Some short stories i've written...

The pain was intense. She was running for her life. Well, not technically, but yes, she decided, maybe she was. She didn't want to hurt anymore, the emotional stress, the verbal abuse, all at the hands of the one that promised to love, promised to cherish, promised to care. To always be there. She looked to her left and her right, turning her head slightly to look behind her and finally up ahead. No one in sight, so that must have been a lie. Maybe if she had been the only one getting the lies she would have felt just the tiniest bit special, like he didn't want to lose her. But the sad realization is, he didn't care. Girls like her flock all over him. Or so he thinks, but no. Not girls like her. Girls like her are loyal to a fault, filled with passion, and willing to go that extra thousand miles without even being asked. She runs harder, feet pounding on the pavement in rhythm with her heartbeat, both of them crushing with each step. She could still see his face, hear his words, the hallow, broken, empty promises. She wasn't running fast enough. Kicking up speed she began to have trouble breathing. Good. Then she would have to concentrate on her running, on making sure every breath counted instead of thinking of every fight, every tear, every lie. Running even faster, her side starts to hurt and pains emanate from her chest, still, she pushes herself harder and harder, making herself run.

She supposes she is stupid. Its easy for her to think this, as every time she saw someone going through what she had she had the very same thought "she's stupid." It's only fair she critique herself as well. Still through the pain of running she can still feel his embrace. She can still see his face when he said I love you the first time. She can still remember every word they spoke on their first date from "What's your favorite shape" to "your strange...So are you". She didn't want to believe that it was lies then. She really didn't but in sad actuality, if not lies, then definitely deceit, not against her but himself. She almost feels bad for him. She almost stops running to go back and shelter him in her embrace. To stop him from hurting himself with the life he leads, the lies he tells, and the risks he takes. Instead, she pushes harder.

She can now feel the pain throbbing through her legs, up her shins, down in her toes. Her arms feel strangely numb and tingly, and still, she pushes. The chest pain is getting unbearable. he heart is in a rhythm all its own and it doesn't feel right. Well of course not. he has broken it she surmises. It will just take time. Time and running. Pushing herself even faster she then realizes that she is slowing down, panting, in pain. She lays on the green way looking up into the night sky. She thinks as she lays there, "I'm about to die." A smile crosses her face. A smile that is so genuine, that no one has saw it in a very long time. "Yes." she thinks. "Now i can't go back." As she lay there dying alone she thinks "It could be worse, he could be here and I could not want to die." Instead she lays there, not calling out for help, using the cell in her reachable pocket. She just lays there and welcomes the embrace of death.
________________________________________________________________________________________________


"I do love you."

She almost wanted to turn around. To believe that was the truth. Instead she keeps running. She can hear him gaining speed, so she pushes herself, harder than she should. harder than she wanted. But hard as necessary. At one time the thought of running away was almost funny.

Almost.

Grabbing her side and trying to slow her breathing to a nice, even, calm pace, she hears the distance between the two start to close. She closes her eyes and says a prayer, hoping this time she would be strong enough. Hoping this time, it wouldn't hurt. Hoping this time, she wouldn't cry. She was almost done with the prayer.

Almost.

Feeling the push from behind she falls to the ground, rolling and tumbling as she goes. Crying out in pain, another sob escapes her lips and she looks up. There he was. Standing before her, so familiar, yet a stranger. Calmly she stands and brushes the dirt off of her pants, looking at the scrapes and bruises that once again he has caused. Taking a deep breath, hoping not to shake to her core, she said...

"Hello lies. I was almost gone."

Lies looks at her, in the humanly form of the man she used to, hell, still does love. Then he says

"Almost."
___________________________________________________________________________________


Its strange how pretty she feels. Standing in her black and pink gown, looking across the room filled with stars and people of power and importance. Holding the glass of wine that came from a bottle that she was sure cost more than her first car, she can't help but smile. He was laughing. She hasn't seen that in so long, the smile was so big it hurt. To anyone else the fact that his smile and laugh was for her, the other woman, may have dampened her mood. But not hers. She was just happy that he was happy. She thought back over the time that they had shared. In the beginning it was great. But i guess that's why there is a beginning after all. Its always great then. They were a power couple. He making beats and recording, she keeping the finances and customers happy.

Then life took over.

The first child came and then 1 year later another arrived. Between the feedings, changing, and runny nose, she had gladly taken to the house wife role. He supported her decision 100% and shortly after the arrival of the first child she had trained her, the very girl on his arm tonight, to take over her job at the company. Except the new girl was getting paid. Ah well, she thought, nothing to be bitter about. She had 2 beautiful kids and years of laughter with him.

He had called earlier in the week and asked her to be here. She played it off, saying she was just to tired, but really wanting to surprise him. Well, I guess this was her surprise. As he was leaning over to kiss her, the new her, the younger improved her, she downed her glass of wine and sat it on a nearby table. Well, she thought, no sense in ruining his night. She turned and left.

Later that evening, during his routine call to her cell after the children's bed time he asked how she was. She contemplated telling him to go fuck himself, she thought about telling him she knew and it was OK, but instead she did what any self respecting woman with children did.

She said she was fine.
___________________________________________________________________________________________

She watched as he lay there, sleeping. He was the man that she loved. He was lying beside a sleeping baby, innocence on both faces that made the setting perfect for a book set in a small town in Montana, where things were probably greener, probably more pure, and probably a lot simpler.


The scene almost took her breath, over and over, as she watched them. Both of them full of so much love and need. But then she remembers. She remembered the decision he made. Not to cheat, we're all human. Just because she finds her joy in only him doesn't mean he should find joy only in her. She only wanted respect, a line right before indecency.

It was strange, such a small thing. Just a tiny tear, a fragment of a magnum wrapper carelessly spit to the side as he fumbled with what was once hers to enter the embrace of another woman in their bed. The bed they made memories in, the bed that was their own. No one else has dared to enter into the magical kingdom of long talks, love making, and movie watching. Until now. Now there was proof. She almost wishes that she had not saw the piece of foil. She almost wants to blame the magnum company for making their wrappers so delightfully shinny.

Almost. But she won't.

The baby will be gone tomorrow and there will be nothing to preoccupy her mind other than the scratch marks on his back, and the tiny piece of foil that sits in an obvious spot in the trash can. She is so tired, burning to the touch from a fever but she won't tell him. She doesn't want his pity. She knows she has his love, but she also wanted respect. In a perfect worldly setting, this may have been possible, but instead she finds herself sitting through an episode of life.

Her throat burns from all of the cigarettes that she has smoked, wondering what to do. She could wake him now, and try to explain to him what hurt. The intrusion of another onto something so completely theirs. She could wait, let him wake on his own. Casually mention just how much she loves him as she skirts the issue and leaves with him never really knowing why. She could wait until the baby leaves, just trying to keep her mind off of the bed that now burns to lay in.

But the bottom line is the same. She won't leave. She will sit here and love. And long. Once again she thinks back to the beginning. Before there were Mr and Mrs Rogers, when they were terms of endearment. When they couldn't pass one another without a hug or a kiss. When they would


lay awake and laugh and cry and talk and sit in silence together.

The baby wakes crying, then falls asleep again quick. He looks up and notices her watching, but silently lays back down as he realizes that once again, he has caused the worry lines on her face.

She sits in the agony of a broken heart; but welcomes the chest pains. After all, if she dreams enough maybe this place will become Montana and a heart attack will ensue. She doesn't feel strong enough to deal with her own emotional baggage, let alone Lorelei's. He knew nothing about her, not yet. She lost the last baby before the first trimester was over so just a positive at 6 weeks isn't something she wants to rely on. He is a wonderful man and father. How could she take her from him before he even knew of her existence? How do you have the strength to fight the emotional torment for another person when your own is gone? So how is she supposed to leave? The simple answer is she loves him. And that makes the struggle ok. So you don't.

http://www.associatedcontent.com/article/1120642/memories_of_a_happier_self.html?cat=44

TiffaniLane wrote:She watched as he lay there, sleeping. He was the man that she loved. He was lying beside a sleeping baby, innocence on both faces that made the setting perfect for a book set in a small town in Montana, where things were probably greener, probably more pure, and probably a lot simpler.


The scene almost took her breath, over and over, as she watched them. Both of them full of so much love and need. But then she remembers. She remembered the decision he made. Not to cheat, we're all human. Just because she finds her joy in only him doesn't mean he should find joy only in her. She only wanted respect, a line right before indecency.

It was strange, such a small thing. Just a tiny tear, a fragment of a magnum wrapper carelessly spit to the side as he fumbled with what was once hers to enter the embrace of another woman in their bed. The bed they made memories in, the bed that was their own. No one else has dared to enter into the magical kingdom of long talks, love making, and movie watching. Until now. Now there was proof. She almost wishes that she had not saw the piece of foil. She almost wants to blame the magnum company for making their wrappers so delightfully shinny.

Almost. But she won't.

The baby will be gone tomorrow and there will be nothing to preoccupy her mind other than the scratch marks on his back, and the tiny piece of foil that sits in an obvious spot in the trash can. She is so tired, burning to the touch from a fever but she won't tell him. She doesn't want his pity. She knows she has his love, but she also wanted respect. In a perfect worldly setting, this may have been possible, but instead she finds herself sitting through an episode of life.

Her throat burns from all of the cigarettes that she has smoked, wondering what to do. She could wake him now, and try to explain to him what hurt. The intrusion of another onto something so completely theirs. She could wait, let him wake on his own. Casually mention just how much she loves him as she skirts the issue and leaves with him never really knowing why. She could wait until the baby leaves, just trying to keep her mind off of the bed that now burns to lay in.

But the bottom line is the same. She won't leave. She will sit here and love. And long. Once again she thinks back to the beginning. Before there were Mr and Mrs Rogers, when they were terms of endearment. When they couldn't pass one another without a hug or a kiss. When they would


lay awake and laugh and cry and talk and sit in silence together.

The baby wakes crying, then falls asleep again quick. He looks up and notices her watching, but silently lays back down as he realizes that once again, he has caused the worry lines on her face.

She sits in the agony of a broken heart; but welcomes the chest pains. After all, if she dreams enough maybe this place will become Montana and a heart attack will ensue. She doesn't feel strong enough to deal with her own emotional baggage, let alone Lorelei's. He knew nothing about her, not yet. She lost the last baby before the first trimester was over so just a positive at 6 weeks isn't something she wants to rely on. He is a wonderful man and father. How could she take her from him before he even knew of her existence? How do you have the strength to fight the emotional torment for another person when your own is gone? So how is she supposed to leave? The simple answer is she loves him. And that makes the struggle ok. So you don't.

http://www.associatedcontent.com/article/1120642/memories_of_a_happier_self.html?cat=44

Good stuff, Tiff we sure do have a lot of talented writers here in this group.

TiffaniLane wrote:She watched as he lay there, sleeping. He was the man that she loved. He was lying beside a sleeping baby, innocence on both faces that made the setting perfect for a book set in a small town in Montana, where things were probably greener, probably more pure, and probably a lot simpler.


The scene almost took her breath, over and over, as she watched them. Both of them full of so much love and need. But then she remembers. She remembered the decision he made. Not to cheat, we're all human. Just because she finds her joy in only him doesn't mean he should find joy only in her. She only wanted respect, a line right before indecency.

It was strange, such a small thing. Just a tiny tear, a fragment of a magnum wrapper carelessly spit to the side as he fumbled with what was once hers to enter the embrace of another woman in their bed. The bed they made memories in, the bed that was their own. No one else has dared to enter into the magical kingdom of long talks, love making, and movie watching. Until now. Now there was proof. She almost wishes that she had not saw the piece of foil. She almost wants to blame the magnum company for making their wrappers so delightfully shinny.

Almost. But she won't.

The baby will be gone tomorrow and there will be nothing to preoccupy her mind other than the scratch marks on his back, and the tiny piece of foil that sits in an obvious spot in the trash can. She is so tired, burning to the touch from a fever but she won't tell him. She doesn't want his pity. She knows she has his love, but she also wanted respect. In a perfect worldly setting, this may have been possible, but instead she finds herself sitting through an episode of life.

Her throat burns from all of the cigarettes that she has smoked, wondering what to do. She could wake him now, and try to explain to him what hurt. The intrusion of another onto something so completely theirs. She could wait, let him wake on his own. Casually mention just how much she loves him as she skirts the issue and leaves with him never really knowing why. She could wait until the baby leaves, just trying to keep her mind off of the bed that now burns to lay in.

But the bottom line is the same. She won't leave. She will sit here and love. And long. Once again she thinks back to the beginning. Before there were Mr and Mrs Rogers, when they were terms of endearment. When they couldn't pass one another without a hug or a kiss. When they would


lay awake and laugh and cry and talk and sit in silence together.

The baby wakes crying, then falls asleep again quick. He looks up and notices her watching, but silently lays back down as he realizes that once again, he has caused the worry lines on her face.

She sits in the agony of a broken heart; but welcomes the chest pains. After all, if she dreams enough maybe this place will become Montana and a heart attack will ensue. She doesn't feel strong enough to deal with her own emotional baggage, let alone Lorelei's. He knew nothing about her, not yet. She lost the last baby before the first trimester was over so just a positive at 6 weeks isn't something she wants to rely on. He is a wonderful man and father. How could she take her from him before he even knew of her existence? How do you have the strength to fight the emotional torment for another person when your own is gone? So how is she supposed to leave? The simple answer is she loves him. And that makes the struggle ok. So you don't.

http://www.associatedcontent.com/article/1120642/memories_of_a_happier_self.html?cat=44

Good stuff, Tiff we sure do have a lot of talented writers here in this group.