jesithepoet's Stories

For an Instant

2008-06-21T14:28:43Z

I had gotten the diagnosis’s five weeks ago. I hadn’t really slept in five weeks. The last night had been the worst; every time I had fallen asleep the demons had come. I was running, but too afraid to turn around. The heat was stifling, I felt as if I had sunburn, but my hands were so numb they felt as if they weren’t even there. The horrible dream images clung to my head, as I watched him make coffee the following morning. He was cute, as slid around the kitchen in his slippers and robe.
I stared absently out the window, watching the sunrise. He came up behind me, slid his arms around me. For an instant it felt as if nothing was wrong. The sunshine and the sent of coffee was more then enough to give me a brief glimpse of peace.
As I turned to face his handsome face the words got caught in my throat.
“Oh, shit” he said suddenly, looking at the clock. “I got to jump in the shower or I will be late for work, we can talk later, love”.
I nodded as the sunshine exploded in the through the window.

Hopeing for no tomorrow.....

2008-05-30T02:59:36Z

Take a trip down the rabbit hole, thought David to him self. He imagined what putting a slug in to a six year old would feel like. He was glad he didn’t have to stab her. There was always that horrible ripping sound as the skin tore open. Then the salty smell as blood eagerly escaped the capture. Always a horrible fucking mess. Not that he ever cleaned it up, but it was there. The last traces of DNA clinging to the carpet. He wondered if six year olds bleed more then other human beings, but didn’t get much time to ponder this when the phone rang.
“She’s going to her aunts house tomorrow, you will have three hours to get it done” replied the gruff voice when he answered with a brisk “what”.
Three hours would be plenty of time. Hell, it might even be enough time to kill the little girl, and have some much needed vodka.
She had seen too much. More then she should have seen, more then she would ever remember but her meeting with the grand jury was coming. David had to shut her up and he would tomorrow.

In the end

2008-05-22T22:17:57Z

The man sat silently and searched. This was not part of his job, and the anger teetered off him. As he took in the words, he sighed to him self, and relaxed. They were paying, and paying him well. The hotel was paid for, the food, and all the vodka he could drink. He needed the vodka to do this job. He searched for records and came up with a kindergarten photograph of the little girl in question.
He had killed before, but killing a child was something he had never even considered. The vodka answered all his question as he thought of his own gangly teenager at home. His wife never asked questions of his work, and he never told her. All she needed to know was that this last job would take care of the down payment on their new house.
He stretched his feet out and looked through the pictures of the little tiny six year old. Her innocence shown through her eyes, and it almost hurt him to have to do his job. Almost.

Summer love

2008-03-08T23:05:18Z

Phylis, Anthony and Fredrick stood around Beth’s grave. Phylis was the only one who had tears on that cold January day. Anthony and Fredrick hung back, knowing their shared guilt might temp them in to telling their closest friend in the world what really happened to her lover.
Anthony thought about the summer everything had changed. The four of them had been friends since first grade. They were so close growing up that the constant teasing and “foursome” joke grew old very quickly. They had spent every waking moment having fun and laughing together.
It was the summer before they were supposed to leave for college that everything changed. Anthony and Fredrick were oblivious to the two girls falling in love all around them. They missed the shared glances that lasted a moment too long. They weren’t part of the all night phone calls.
By the time September came around, things had heated up for the girls. They may have been putting more clothing on to stay warm, but they were taking more off around each other.

The driver

2007-10-28T21:52:47Z

The night air crackled with thunder, as the road stretched out in front of him. He crushed the cigarette out in the ash tray, and took a long sip of his Jack Daniels. He knew the 200 miles he was driving would be worth it. They had messed with the wrong man.
That was the trouble with most kids these days, they had no respect for their elders. He had respected his father, god how he had no choice. His father had beaten respect, and abuse in to to his brain on a nightley basis growing up. The man had never maired, couldent really understand woman.
His work, as truck driver, had alowed him to let him self go. He was unshaven, his clothese smelling vaguley of sweat and piss. He really didn’t care what he looked like, he wasen’t going where he was going to make friends. He was going to hurt people.
As he made a sharp right turn off the highway, the clank of a chainsaw hitting a sharp blade poped in the trunk.
The man smiled as he pulled in to town. It was going to be a fun night.

Just a halloween ish poem, a classic

2007-10-28T20:23:42Z

Because I Could Not Stop for Death
Poem lyrics of Because I Could Not Stop For Death by Emily Dickinson.

Because I could not stop for Death—
He kindly stopped for me—
The Carriage held but just Ourselves—
And Immortality.

We slowly drove—He knew no haste
And I had put away
My labor and my leisure too,
For His Civility—

We passed the School, where Children strove
At Recess—in the Ring—
We passed the fields of Gazing Grain—
We passed the Setting Sun—

Or rather—He passed Us—
The Dews drew quivering and chill—
For only Gossamer, my Gown—
My Tippet—only Tulle—

We paused before a House that seemed
A Swelling of the Ground—
The Roof was scarcely visible—
The Cornice—in the Ground—

Since then—’tis Centuries—and yet
Feels shorter than the Day
I first surmised the Horses’ Heads
Were toward Eternity—

Not Alone

2007-10-19T18:28:11Z

The rain still clung to the window. The inexplicable feeling that there had once been many happy people here clung to the air. In the empty, but discussing kitchen (mold clinging to several blue and white dishes) were several “family” pictures. Clearly drawn by a small child, Sandy wondered where that child was now. As she walked toward the back bedroom a feeling of unease kept in to her skin. Resisting the urge to vomit, she griped the cold handle of the doorknob, and shoved the door open. Sandy knew the body was here, and her job as a crime scene photographer meant she would have to get close to the now rotting corpse. When she finally stepped in to the room she felt eyes watching her every move. As she survived the mostly empty small room, her eyes watered with the smell of blood. On the center of the small bed, a woman laid, in what once had been a nightgown, her skin now ripped to shreds, the blood still pooling on the silk sheets. Once again, Sandy felt as though she was not alone.

Her name was Lola

2007-09-27T00:55:44Z

Monkeys make horrible spouses but James has seen uglier woman. This deal, if he survived the first year of marriage, would leave him a very rich man. James knew the money was the biggest factor in marrying the monkey, but all he could think of was the down sides.
The monkey would not clean the house (most likely would leave even more poop on the floor), would not have a hot meal waiting for him when he returned home from work, and he didn’t even want to think about his sex life.
Her name was Lola, and she was a very cute monkey, as far as monkeys go. She chattered nonstop while James read through the paperwork, and signed away 365 days of his life to the TV producers. He wasn’t only giving up his privacy, self-respect, and any chance of a real marriage on down the road; he was also going to be on reality TV.

The Never ending night..

2007-09-25T21:25:13Z

I sighed as I watched him sleep. So content, his eyes moved with sleep. I wondered if he was dreaming of me, or dreaming of a baseball game. He watched so much baseball; I almost had to compete for his attention.
I looked up at the moon, as the soft breeze feel on my naked shoulders. The empty house creaked around me. I heard our kitten Tiger yawn in his little kitten way. These were the sounds that normally put me to sleep, but tonight they brought no comfort. I buried my head in to our comforter and wondered what the next day would bring. As I feel asleep, I knew I had to tell him everything.
We had been together for too long for me not to tell him everything. It brought tears to my eyes; I hadn’t kept anything from him in years. He was my best friend, my everything, and I had no idea how he was going to react.
The soft scent of lavender filled my nose as I closed my eyes. This night was never going to end, and I wasn’t sure I wanted it too.