Friday, September 28, 2012

My Small Room


In the corners of my small room, tiny creatures dwel. They call me when the man in the moon tells stories to the stars. Deep in the night, the tiny ones keep me company. They jump playfully around my bed, making soft laughing sounds. I hear them when they speak, repeating the same sentence over and over again: Don’t be afraid, little one.

I object. I tell them I am not little, nor afraid. They giggle and say the only words their tongues allow.

I toss and turn in my sleep, sensing their intrusion. I open my eyes and follow them bounce from one corner to the next, pointing little fingers at me, mocking me. I jump up and try to catch the slowest one, but she escapes. She hides in my pillow.

Today, I discovered how little I am in this world, and yes, I am afraid. Terrified of what it will wring out of me.

Today, in the bright sun light, I miss my small room. I long to tonight’s moon. I want to run to my tiny creatures, call out to them before they call me, and ask them to tell me what to do with all this lunacy.

End this day.

Bring on the night.

Let the madness begin.

Saturday, September 22, 2012

Matilda: Part 5 - Matilda & Thomas



            
            More often than not, things didn’t go as planned. Thomas learned that lesson the hard way. Matilda, however, decided to ignore it. She had a plan in mind, and she would make sure it would produce the results she wanted.
            Going into Thomas’s email account was easy. Idiot Thomas had written his password in his “secret” journal. Matilda wiped out the account’s history, but not before she was able to track down the truck driver who fled the scene after he hit Thomas. Around midnight, she showed up at the man’s doorstep in the shadiest part of town. Journal in one hand, and a roll of bills in the other, she told him she had a proposition for him.
            The man’s face lit up, and he stepped aside to let her in. Matilda held her breath, suppressing the bile that rose from her stomach because of the stench in the dirty room. She placed the money on the table and pushed her hand in her coat pocket. Lured like a mouse to a piece of cheese, the man stood in front of Matilda and started counting hundred dollar bills.
            Her plan worked. Without hesitation, Matilda drew her hand out of her pocket and planted a loaded syringe in his neck. The man’s body jerked with surprise. He turned toward her, his eyes bulging out with rage. He raised his fist in her direction, growled menacingly, and then slammed the floor face down at her feet. Matilda counted to twenty, bent over to retrieve her needle, and pried the bills out of his hand. She took one look around to make sure she didn’t leave anything that might identify her, stepped over the hungry mouse's body and headed out the door.
            Burning Thomas’s journal was the next step in her plan. She stood in front of her fireplace, watching the flames burn any evidence tying Thomas to that man. Her Tommy was safe. The police couldn’t touch him now.

            It took the homicide investigators one week to arrest her. Matilda had not taken into consideration that the kind of chemical she used to kill the hit man was a special order of the clinic she worked at. Since she was the only one who handled lab work, the rest of the puzzle pieces fell into place. She was charged with first-degree murder. The motive, however, eluded the police.


            In court, Matilda conferred with her attorney during the short recess. Her mind was set. She should change her plea to guilty and take full responsibility for her crime. She would not allow her lawyer to bring up Thomas to get her a deal with the district attorney. She would show Thomas how much she loved him. She would protect her Tommy. Even in Hell, Thomas would be indebted to her forever. The last word was hers.


This story is finally over. It was an amusing exercise to keep my mind busy, knowing that the plot had many logic gaps. I appreciate the feedback and the comments I received that helped me make up the events each week.


Tuesday, September 18, 2012

Matilda: Part 4



          
            Matilda was hurt. Well, her feelings were hurt, a novel experience for someone like her. And there aren’t many like Matilda.
            The law firm she hired gave her case to a junior attorney and flatly informed her over the phone that she was in capable hands. She wanted the top lawyer she originally met with, but the man was too busy to take her case. She knew he did not want to deal with her, not after she had shown up late for her court hearing. Mr. Big shot attorney had to wait for her. What was the big deal? He got paid for his time, didn’t he? Besides, she had made it to court before they called her case. But that was not good enough for Mr. Expensive Suit. Now she was forced to contend herself with the fresh-out-of-college pompous boy by her side.
            Matilda sat in her designated chair, facing the judge. As soon as the proceedings started, she tuned out. Angry and frustrated, she thought of her losses while the assistant district attorney methodically read a list. She lost her Tommy for good. No way he would come back to her now. Not after what she had done. She lost her nine cats, and her precious house too. She had to sell it to make bail. Matilda was alone. Again. What difference would it make if she were acquitted or not? A prison is a prison, be it a jail cell, or a house full of ferns without her Tommy.
            Matilda leaned closer to her attorney and whispered something in his ear. He pushed his rimless eyeglasses up his nose and mouthed, “Are you sure?”

            She parted her lips in what seemed like a smile and nodded her head. Then she placed her hands flat on the table and rose to her feet. The young man shot out of his chair to say, “Your honor, the defense asks for a short recess to confer with my client.”


What did Matilda do to land her in court? And what did she say to her attorney? Next episode will conclude the story of Matilda.