Hampstead Heath is beautiful in the early morning sunlight. The dew sparkled on the grass giving it a magical appeal. Where I stood, the ground was elevated and I could see the city. People were waking or heading off to work. It was just a normal day for them.
For a moment, I looked over at the trees and breathed deeply. I could feel her. Exhaling, I took another breath and my feet moved in her footsteps. Briefly, my eyes closed as I advanced. This was where she was, where she walked, stumbled and broke into a run. Her feet became mine as I moved with her towards the trees.
I entered a pathway surrounded by trees and knew beyond a doubt this is where she was killed.
My heart is thumped. My breath was jagged and the adrenaline is surged through my veins as I entered a pathway surrounded by trees. Beyond doubt I knew this wass where she was killed.
I become her as a sob escaped me. I felt him following behind. Moving quickly, I stumbled, my head whiped around and his shadow attacked me. Crying out, I threw my arms forward hoping to knock him away. Instead we rolled together on the ground. Me and a shadow from the past.
We came to a stop having hit an obstacle. A shaft of sunlight hits the trees and a beam of light illuminated his face.
Later, I sit alone in the Danilion café sipping my drink and staring out of the window. The high street is full of shoppers. They carry their bulging bags and have no idea a killer could be amongst them. He probably looked like an average man on his way to do his business, to the pub for a drink, or to meet friends. They don’t know what he did. Or the life he took for his personal gratification.
My fingers worked the fabric in my hand, a bit of cloth that came from an evidence bag.
I felt the girl in my core. Her hopes and dreams for a future she will never have. Poor girl. Poor, poor girl.
Coldness enveloped me and for a second everything went silent. I took a sharp intake of breath – he was here! I felt him strongly.
My mind returned to the café and the surrounding people come back into focus. “Excuse me? Is anyone using this chair?” My blood runs cold. It’s the face of the man I grappled with in the forest.
I shook my head, too stunned to speak. He moved the chair to a different table and joins an older man. They chat and I stared at his profile.
His forehead jutted out a little and his hair is side parted, his nose was sharp and long, and he had a slight double chin.
How can he sit there looking like any normal guy?
Pulling out my phone, I selected Seb’s name and listened to it ring. Seb was my brother and a police detective.
“Cassie,” he answered.
“I’ve got him,” I state.
“Right here. I’m looking at him.” I was staring at the side of his head, unable to take my eyes from him, unable to fathom how normal he looked when he carries such a terrible secret. I suppose I expected him to look the monster he is.
“Where Cassie? Where are you?”
“The Dandelion café.”
“Okay, I’m on my way.” The phone went dead.
The man’s companion gets up and I hear him say, “Thanks for the coffee.” My eyes burned into the side of the killer’s head. He glances around as he raised the cup to his mouth.
My blood boiled. How dare he just sit there and act normally! He thinks no one knows what he had done but he is wrong. I know! I couldn’t help myself as I stood and moved over to his table to sat in the empty seat. He looked surprised as I said nothing.
“Can I help you?” he asked sounding like a regular guy. Normal voice open expression, friendly even.
Seb was going to be annoyed. He says I’m a loose cannon and unable to contain my feelings. He’s right. I shouldn’t be taking risks like this.
“I know,” I said quietly.
He stareed at me and says, “I’ve no idea what you’re talking about.”
I wish I could throw the fabric I still have clutched in my fist at him, asking if he remembers it, but because of where it came from, I can’t.
“Yes, you do. I can see it in your eyes.”
He continued to stare, and I could hear the sound of him breathing. “I think you’ve mistaken me for someone else.”
“No, I haven’t. I know who you are, or rather what you are.”
His Adam’s apple bobs. “And what’s that?”
I looked around. “Do you want me to say it out loud?”
He leaned forward and I flinched as my back pressed into the chair. In a whisper, he said, “You’re crazy, I don’t know you.”
As his breath washed over me, I realised she wasn’t the first one he’s killed.
The shock of his evil breath made me rise to my feet. I shouldn’t have confronted him. He stood up too, scraping his chair on the floor.
Glancing out of the window I urged Seb to hurry. The man gives me a hard stare and strides out the door.
Damn! I rushed after him while putting the phone to my ear and pressed redial.
Seb’s voice comes through and I heard he is on hands-free. His blues and twos echoed down the phone and in the distance, as he approached.
“Can you still see him?” he asked after I explained.
“No, he’s gone. Where are you?”
“Two minutes. I’ll be two minutes. Stay there,” he said urgently, and hung up.
Moving away from the doorway, I looked up and down the high street, stopping sideways to look at the reflections in the shop windows hoping to spot him.
I felt his presence.
Spinning around, he was right behind me. Something sharp pressed against my skin.
“Keep walking,” he commanded. His touch consumed me. My psyche flooded and I saw everything he had done. How those poor girls suffered! I couldn’t do anything except walk with him. I knew beyond a doubt he would plunge the knife without conscience and disappear into the crowd before I even hit the floor.
Where the hell was Seb?
He walked me into an alleyway, and out of sight behind a large dustbin.
Seb! The sirens approached.
The blade was against my throat and his other ha nd was pulling at my skirt and underwear.
“How did you know?” His fetid breath covered my face.
“I know everything,” I told him as the blade broke the skin and I panicked.
“You know nothing!” he hissed.
“I know if you don’t let go, that man over there will kill you.”
He laughed, but still checked as Seb came skidding over. Grabbing him by the neck of his jacket, he threw him to the floor. With a knee in his back, Seb cuffed him.
“Are you all right?” he asked.
I pushed my clothes back into position and wiped the trickle of blood from my neck, Seb yelled at me again. “Yes!” I retorted, and he talked into his radio.
People gathered, wondering what was going on. They shouted in our direction, aiming phones. I tried to keep my face hidden. Seb yelled at them to stay back.
The man, the killer, is struggling on the ground trying to break loose. Seb was having trouble holding on to him. I couldn’t do anything to help as the guy swung round and pulled Seb with him. More sirens got louder as Seb fought to keep a hold on him.
Relief flooded through me as cops spilled into the alleyway. They relieved Seb of his prisoner and he strode towards me.
“You bloody fool!” he sid moving my hand from my neck, shaking his head. “Get that looked at. God, Cass, what the hell were you thinking?”
“I’m sorry,” I said, feeling shaken.
The killer threws us a strange look as they carted him off. My brother, Seb, and I are used to those looks. People often look at us strangely because we look so alike
“At least you’ve got him,” I said as we walked back up to the road.
“Have to link him with the crime yet.”
“Him attacking me will give you time to do that.”
“Don’t tell me my job,” he snapped, and I knew I’m wasn’t off the hook yet, although, he rarely stays mad for long.
An ambulance pulled up and I was glad to get inside, away from the curious eyes and stares. It is just a scratch and a plaster was all that is needed.
Seb drove me home and I took the tongue-lashing, as is par for the course. You see, Seb and I are twins, identical, and it’s unusual for a girl and a boy to be as much alike as we are.
He was a seeker, he always finds what he’s looking for, especially when it’s me. He can zone in on where I am, so I never get lost. Seb has no psychic power, but we work well as a team.
This is the first story in The Adventures of Cassidy Newbold. It is available to download for free with Kindle Unlimited.
Also featuring Cassie is The Haunting
Like many others, I enjoy a good mystery. Stories where you need to know what happens next. Tales that pique your curiosity and keep you turning the page to get to the end.
Over the years, I’ve found missing people intriguing. Why did they disappear in the first place? Was it an accident or something more sinister? Is there a happy ending or does it end in tragedy? Also, just as importantly, how does it effect those left behind?
Before I thought about becoming a published author, many of the stories I’d written over the years involved this mystery.
Did you know there are 300,000 people reported missing each year? That works out at almost 900 a day.
The first high profile case I recall was that of Lord Lucan in 1974. His wife claimed her husband had attacked her, and murdered their nanny. The police investigated, but Lord Lucan was never found and to this day it remains a mystery. You can read the full story here.
Journalist Amelia Hill wrote a fascinating article in the Guardian in 2012 about a girl who became pregnant. Her boyfriend didn’t want to know and her parents told her to get an abortion. She felt she had no option but to run away. She had her baby, but says her life had been a lie ever since.
As part of my research I went onto the missing person’s website. There were many stories about people who had disappeared, and those left behind. One mum showed the bedroom of her son left just as it was in 2006 when he disappeared. The torment she must live with wondering whether he is still alive is hard to imagine.
Another high profile case was that of estate agent Suzy Lamplugh who disappeared in 1985. An attractive young woman who had penciled in her diary she was meeting a Mr Kipper. She was never seen again, her remains never found, and they didn’t traced Mr Kipper. As a result estate agents changed the way they worked and Suzy’s mother founded a Trust in the name of her daughter dealing with personal safety.
Not all cases are as high profile, and in 2012 an appeal was launched for a missing woman who had not long given birth. She was already suffering from anxiety and depression. It could have gone either way and for a few days, everyone lived in hope until they found her body.
Madeline McCann is one of the most famous and still talked about cases. In 2007, the four-year-old girl was abducted while on holiday with her family. She was a beautiful little thing with blonde hair and big blue eyes. She captured everyone’s hearts. Despite a massive investigation and search. The police had no viable leads and no trace of her was ever found. It’s a tragedy and like many others, we all hope one day the truth will emerge.
There are many more stories with no conclusions offered and it’s frustrating not to have an end. I’ve always wondered what makes people want to disappear in the first place. What are their stories?
One day watching a television programme that searches for missing people, it gave me an an idea for a story. What if you were the missing person, and suddenly your face appeared on screen? The secret you had been trying to keep was now out
Found! tells the story of Amanda, who had problems with her brothers. She takes off to Scotland and creates a new life for herself. When she and her boyfriend are watching television, it is her face that comes up onscreen and Jamie, her boyfriend is shocked by what he hears.
The people left behind don’t always know the reasons their loved ones leave. It affects them in difference ways and many suffer for years. So in this story, I’ve included the bewildered family and how they coped with her disappearance.
As mentioned before, some stories do not have ending and we are not always given that neatly wrapped up conclusion. With Found! I wanted to round it up and conclude it, so get your tissues ready for an sweet ending!
Found! is also available on Kindle Unlimited.
by Karen J Mossman
Walking up to the front door, I was about to press the buzzer when the warden appeared. “Your mum’s not herself today, Jennifer.”
“What’s happened?” I asked following her down the corridor to mum’s flat.
“She’s telling everyone John’s coming.”
I pursed my lips, “John’s, my dad. He won’t be coming.”
“That’s what I thought.” She said, pushing open Mum’s door. “I’ll leave you to it, then.”
Mum’s flat was small, a bedroom and bathroom led off the lounge which also incorporated the kitchen. I still felt guilty living in our family home while she lived here.
Mum, wearing a pink sweater with a stain on the front and black slacks was holding a photo of Jessica and me.
“Ah, there you are,” she said, as Jessica came in behind me and sat on the arm of the sofa.
She was stroking the photo with her thumb. “My girls.” She murmured and looked up at me. “Your dad will be here soon.”
I glanced at Jessica who was watching Mum closely. “Mum, dad won’t be coming.” I told her. “Why don’t I make us a cup of tea, instead?”
“Yes,” she said putting down the photograph. “That will be nice. Get an extra cup out, just in case he comes.”
I said nothing as I moved around the kitchen filling the kettle and putting tea bags in the pot.
We sat around the table like we used to, and Mum poured the tea.
“Do you see Dad at all?” she asked.
“I don’t know what you mean.” I stirred my tea. Jessica looked at me and back to Mum.
“Your dad and I said you’d grow out of it, but you haven’t, have you?” I sighed and looked at Jessica.
When I was a child, I talked to people they couldn’t see. Jessica, who didn’t laugh often, thought it was funny until she realised I was serious. She and I were like two halves, she the introvert and me extrovert.
“Who are they and what do you say to them?” She once asked while we were doing puzzles in the front room.
“They’re people who’ve lived and died in this house.” I said, not looking up.
“Aren’t you afraid of them?” Her blue eyes and blonde hair were the mirror image of me.
“No, and you shouldn’t be either.”
“What do they look like?” she asked.
I thought for a moment. “I can’t always tell. I don’t really see them individually.”
She screwed up her eyes in that funny way she has. “What do you mean? I thought you could see them?”
It was hard to describe. “I can, but I see shadows, I suppose; wisps of people doing what they’ve always done when they lived here. I don’t even know if they’re aware of each other.”
Jessica and I had been born in the house on Webster Street and had lived there all our lives. The shadows had been there for longer than we had.
“Wow!” Jessica seemed transfixed as she looked around the room trying to see what I saw. “Cool, you better not tell Mum and Dad, though. They’ll think you’re silly.”
I never did, which was why Mum’s question lingered in the air. Jessica looked glum.
“You haven’t grown out of it, have you, Jennifer?” Mum repeated.
I couldn’t discuss it with her and especially not now. “Mum…”
“We knew you were different but didn’t know what to do about it.” She was having one of her lucid moments and it made my heart ache. “You were the only one who didn’t cry at your dad’s funeral.”
Without thinking, I said. “That’s because he was standing next to you.” Jessica put her head in her hands and groaned.
“You can’t do this!” Mum shrilled, getting to her feet and knocking over the dining chair. “I’ll get Jessica to stay with me. She was always the nicer one, now get out!”
There was no reasoning with her when she went off on one like this. It would end up with us all being upset if I tried. So, I left and went down to find Megan, who was sitting in her office chatting to a Home Help. I tapped on the door to get their attention and they turned to look at me.
“Sorry to interrupt, but I can’t reason with her and it’s best just to walk away. Will you keep an eye on her? She should calm down now I’ve gone.”
The Home Help looked sympathetic and Megan said, “Of course. I’ll pop down there in a minute to see if she’s okay.”
I nodded, “Thanks. Give me a ring if there are any problems.”
“She’ll be fine, I’m sure.” Megan said with a smile.
It wasn’t far to walk home, that’s why I liked the accommodation Mum was in, convenient to get to day or night. I put my head down and with hands in my pocket tried not to think of the how it always hurt when she did that. I wanted my mum back, and that would never happen now. Even her lucid moments were getting less.
I didn’t notice the car till the horn blared and Tom, my boyfriend got out. I say boyfriend and although I liked him, it was hard being in a relationship when Mum was this difficult. Tom was a good man who didn’t push me and was always supportive.
Three years ago, I dialled 999 when Dad fell off a ladder hitting his head on the paving stones. He died instantly, and Tom was one of the first police officers on the scene.
Mum, who already lived her life in profound shock, went downhill from there.
Tom got out of the passenger door. “Jen?”
“Oh hello, I was miles away. I’ve just been to see Mum. She’s had another turn.”
He walked with me and the car crawled alongside us driven by his colleague. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I know it’s upsetting. She can’t help it now. I think it’s time to make that phone call, don’t you?”
I knew in my heart of hearts I needed to ring Social Services and have them assess her again. But even though her lucid moments were getting less, they always made me hesitate. “I know you’re right.” I said giving him a half-hearted smile. “It’s just so…” I trailed off.
“Difficult,” he finished for me.
“Yes. I know I have to face it sooner rather than later.” We stopped at my garden gate. “I just feel so guilty all the time.”
Tom put his hand on my arm and said, “I know you do and you really shouldn’t. It’s not your fault, Jen. You did the right thing for her and you must do it again. Make that phone call.”
Tom was so always so wise. “I know.”
Tom turned to his partner in the car. “Des, I’m going to walk Jen inside.”
“I’m fine, honestly.” I told them looking at Des as well. I didn’t want to get them in trouble.
“He had a curry last night, so yeah, it’ll give me a break.” Des quipped.
“Ignore him,” Tom said, and I smiled.
There was always banter between those two and they often made me laugh even when I didn’t want to. We walked up the path to the from door.
“Do you want a cup of tea?” I relented, as he seemed intent on coming in.
“Never say no to a cuppa. You know me.”
I put the key in the lock. “Well, your daft mate better come as well.”
Des didn’t need telling twice, and I knew they would take it as an opportunity to skive. Tom went straight up to use the toilet and Des lingered in the hall talking on his phone.
I went through to the kitchen, put my coat over the chair, and filled the kettle trying not to think about what Mum had said when Jessica appeared.
“Don’t say anything, favourite child,” I told her, forcing a smile. It wasn’t Jess’s fault, poor love.
As Des came into the kitchen and Tom down the stairs, Jessica retreated.
“So, what happened this time?” asked Tom, leaning against the table.
“Just the usual really. You know what she’s like.”
Des looked out into the back garden, “My nan was like that, normal one minute, unreasonable the next. We never knew what mood she would be in.”
“It’s more than that, Des,” said Tom as I put the bags in the teapot and filled it with hot water.
“Oh, I know, I was just saying. I sympathise with you, Jen. I know what it’s like.”
“Let’s go out tonight?” Tom suggested.
“Oh! I’d love to, thanks for asking,” said Des and I laughed. Tom picked up a tea towel and threw it at him before turning back to me.
“Ignore him. We could try that new Italian place on the high street.”
“Yes, that’s the one. It would be good to get your mind on something else for a change, what do you say?”
I nodded. “Yes, okay.”
“I take it I’m not invited, then?” said Des.
“No!” Tom and I said at the same time and grinned.
“Seriously though.” said Des. “I went the other week, and it was nice. The food’s really good.”
I handed them the tea, and we all stood in the kitchen drinking when their radio burst into life. They had a shout and quickly left. I emptied their tea down the sink just as Jessica came back into the room.
“I know,” I said, as she always knew what I was thinking. “I shouldn’t commit to a relationship when he doesn’t know about this?” I swept my hands around the ghostly images. “And there’s Mum, she needs me even if she doesn’t always know it.”
Jessica remained impassive as I turned away and washed the cups.
A couple of days later Mum walked in through the back door.
“What are you doing here?” I gasped, abandoning the meat I was frying.
“I want to see Jessica and I want to see John!” she demanded.
She went into the front room where Jessica was sitting. “So! You’re keeping secrets from me, are you?”
“And where’s John, where’s your dad?”
“I can’t just bring him back like that. You shouldn’t be here. How did you get out?”
“I walked, how do you think? Anyway, I heard you telling Jessica that you could summon anybody, and I want to see John.”
“I know you do, but I was a child then. It’s not like that now. They need to be left alone.”
She was poking around the room, peering behind the sofa and curtains. “They? Who are they? Where are they?”
“Nobody’s here, Mum.” I said, trying to be patient, but she wouldn’t listen.
“Yes, they are. They’re always here.” She carried on looking determined to find something. “You said that. I heard you say it.”
I looked at Jessica, and she wore that haunted guilty look.
Running out of the room she said. “I’ll find them. I will, I’ll find them.” As she went upstairs, I was just about to follow her when I smelled burning. The meat!
The frying pan had caught fire and ignited the curtains. Panicking, I threw a tea towel over it, but it caught fire too. Thick smoke billowed and engulfed the kitchen forcing me out into the hallway.
It happened so fast and Mum was upstairs! I covered my mouth and nose with my arm and tried not to cough.
“Mum! Mum!” I screamed expecting her to appear.
I was just about to go after her when I was grabbed around the waist. I’d hardly registered someone kicking down the door as they pulled me outside.
“My mum! My mum!” I screamed, but they didn’t listen as the flames headed for the stairs.
Within minutes a fire engine had arrived, and everything became chaotic and surreal. Water hoses spurted at the windows and fireman with breathing apparatus went inside. They put ladders against the upstairs window and I watched with horror as they headed up.
People gathered round to watch and as I sobbed, I could see faint shadows in the windows. Thick smoke poured out of them, and flames licked the gutters through the broken glass.
They brought Mum out, and it was too late. Once I had been checked over for smoke inhalation, Tom took me back to his house as I had nowhere else to go.
The following day I insisted on going back to see the embers of Webster Street. My family home was burnt to the ground.
His arm was around me as I stood and sobbed. “I don’t understand why you need to see this. You’re only torturing yourself.”
One day I would tell him although I’m not sure he’d understand. I took a final look at Mum, who for the first time looked happy. Dad, his arm around her protectively had the twinkle back in his eyes. Finally, standing next to them was Jessica, my depressive, suicidal sister.
This is just one of the stories in The Magic of Stories book. It is available to read for free on Kindle Unlimited. Or to buy from all good book stores.
Flash fiction is a style of fictional literature or fiction of extreme brevity. There is no widely accepted definition of the length of the category. Some self-described markets for flash fiction impose caps as low as three hundred words, while others consider stories as long as a thousand words to be flash fiction.
Fewer words often tell a better story, I think. So I’ve had a play about with words.
Addicted to Love
I saw, I took, I loved and I lost.
That sums it up really. He was handsome and kind and when he asked me out, I said yes. I took the love he offered. It was good, really good. I drank from him and I waded through a pool of caresses and kisses. I indulged, I supped, I enjoyed.
I became dependant, possessive, needful and addicted. It was too much. No good shutting the door after the horse’s bolted, Granny said. It was one of herf avourite saying and its pity I didn’t listen.
How do you wean yourself from addiction? Time will heal, says Granny and this time I’m trying to listen. It’s hard and it hurts. I’ve cried, I’ve yearned and I’ve learnt.
This was a compilation of shorts I wrote a few years ago.
Albert loved to watch the children play in the school yard. Their voices filled hish eart with happiness, but someone reported him as suspicious. Now all Albert watches is trains.
This was a dream I had, so not all of it makes completele sense. But I think you will get the gist of it. It stuck in my mind because of the shock of what happened at the end. It felt so real.
And The Ship Went Down
I’d gone with a small group of tourists back in time. We were observers and everything around us was in black and white. Just like a film except that we were there.
In the corridor people had spilled out of cabins shouting and pushing to get out. They couldn’t see us as we stood watching like observers.
A woman shouted above the noise, “It’s all right we;re going on again.” Just for a moment the panic subsided and then I realised we weren’t going on, we were going down, and at the same time I realised it, so did they. The ship was sinking!
The panic and bedlam rose up again. People began falling as the ship tilted. Among them were children who were getting trampled in the panic. I could hear each individual scream and it was horrific.
We scrambled to the back of the ship and stood waiting. I could see land not too far off as it tilted and the sea was further away. There was no question of jumping, it was like contemplating jumping off a cliff.
With awful suddenness we realised something had gone wrong, we were going down with it, and the water the rushing towards us, “I don’t like this, I want to go,” I shouted above the noise. This was too real, not what I expected at all!
We began to sing the code word, Red Tomato, Red Tomato, Red Tomato, and nothing happened. The wind rushed in my ears and the people in my party started singing, “We are English, We are English.” Did that matter? What was that for?
Apart the abject terror, there was no time to panic as water rushed up my legs and over my head. I will swim, I thought, soon as I’m under the water, I shall swim away, and back up to the surface.
I didn’t count on the whoosh, and of sucking sensation that sent me turning and spinning. Then I stopped and was floating. I waited for the pain that goes with drowning. I looked across the murky water to see other people who had been sucked down too. Inthat tiny millisecond I realised I didn’t know which way was up and I wasn’t going to get to the surface. Then my breath ran out. I had no choise but to breath in and fully expected it to be sea water. It wasn’t. It was fresh air. I was alive! My eyes opened and it was a dream….only a dream…
When I withdrew the knife, I smiled.
This would be better.
I liked to cook in the kitchen, especially on my own.
It was when I got to the sink I realised the knife still had his blood on it.
A pulse was beating in my temple which exploded into a full blown headache as I saw them come for me. I was taken down a white walled corridor as my stomach churned. I felt sick.
A light above me flickered as hysteria bubbled inside. The door opened and he was standing there waiting for me, a glint in his eyes. I didn’t want to look at the cold, sharp instruments lying on the table. I could smell fear in the room as the blood rushed through my veins and pounded in my ears. For a moment, I thought I was going to faint.
I’d seen others coming out, their faces as white as the walls. Somewherea tap dripped. The bright light above was aimed like a spotlight illuminating the area of kill. Oh god!
Hands were on my shoulders making me lay back and terror consumed me. I caught the sight of ametal hook and broke out into a cold sweat.
A hush descended the room, the only sound was my breathing. A sweet sickly smell swept though my nostrils as goose bumps marched down from my shoulders.
Thank god they had changed it to 12 monthly appointments, as I couldn’tgo through this every time I needed a dentist check up.
I’m 30 and I’m single. Is that unusual? I don’t really care because I am happy with who I am.
I’m Christina; I live alone with my cat, Henry. I’ve had plenty of boyfriends and have a good social life. I love men and always have, but haven’t found the one to settle down with.
Life was good, I have a good job and my own my flat, but last weekend my life turned upside down.
It’s hard to put into words and I’m struggling to come to terms with what happened. My whole life has been thrown into disarray. I don’t know who I am any more. My self-confidence has plummeted.
You see I went to a party. My friend dropped out at the last minute and I decided to go on my own. Lots of people were there and I always find it interesting meeting new people. I’m waffling; I know I am waffling, putting off the moment I have to tell you.
You see, I kissed another woman.
There, I’ve said it. It was a full blown necking session with wandering hands. Every time I think about it, my stomach flips and I go cold. I love men. How could I do that?
I feel sick, indeed I have been sick. I’m not a lesbian, I’ve never thought of another woman that way. I love men. I love everything about them. I love sex – with a man. I’m repulsed at the thought of sex with another woman simply because I’m not gay.
So why did I end up kissing another woman? I don’t know. She liked me. She made all the moves. At first Ithought she was being attentive and naively thought she found me interesting. When she began touching me, I didn’t think anything of it. When I realised she being over affectionate, I knew I’d drank too much, and because I lwas enjoying it. Before I knew what was happening, we were outside. She was smiling at me in a way that was disconcerting. Then she began kissing me, it was passionate, it was nice, my eyes were closed. Then I opened them.
I expected to see a handsome hunk, instead there was a pretty women. I felt let down, and cheated.
My friend told me to chalk it up to experience. She said it happens to most people at some point in their lives. At least, she said, you know who you are now.
But then I always did. I love men.
I See Things
I am a normal ordinary person, or I would like to think that I am. I’ve lived in our house for 18 years and was brought up by a loving family. I’ve never had any problems. That was until recently. Now I see things.
I don’t particularly believe in ghosts. I’ve never seen one, at least I don’t think of what I see as ghosts. If they aren’t, what are they?
Well, they are small, dark blobs I see from the corner of my eyes. Suddenly they run across the room or they run up the walls. When I turn my head to look properly, they’ve gone, escaping to wherever it is they are running to.
Sometimes I think things live in this house, things we never knew were here and living along side us. Now I know they are here, I worry. Where are they when I can’t see them? Why do they dash everywhere and why can’t I see them as they really are?
I hear them at night too, as I lie awake in the dark. I can’t describe the soundt hey make but it is there and muffled in the silence. Where are they in the darkness? Are they crawling up the walls and dashing across the floor? It makes me shiver, and worry as to who else is living in our house with us.
Night Time Cuddles
“Do you know I love you very much,” he whispered.
“That’s very nice.”
“Very nice? What kind of an answer is that?”
“I’m just saying, that’s all.”
“You never say nice things to me.”
“Yes, I do.”
“Well, erm, I told you that jumper looked nice.”
“I’d just bought it.”
“Yes, well, I say other things too.”
“I thanked you for washing up, didn’t I?”
“That doesn’t count.”
She giggled and snuggled closer.
“You’re a crazy woman, you know that?”
“That’s why you love me.”
“I do. Very much. Now go to sleep.”
Mrs Horseface was very angry and I hung my heard.
“Somebody better own up or you are all going to be punished.”
Keeping my head bowed, I moved my eyes to Charlie on the right and Ian and Shaun on the left.
“It was her, miss,” said Charlie.
I looked up sharply in time to see the other boys nod in agreement.
Mrs Horseface turned to me and I shrunk from her stare.
“Right, get out, you three.”
And my so-called friends, didn’t need telling twice. They shot out of the door as I hunched my shoulders.
“You better explain yourself, right now Sophie Clark.”
“Erm, I’m sorry Mrs Horsley, I…I….”
“Yes? I am waiting.”
“I…well, you see….”
“Spit it out,”
“It was Charlie, he made me do it, said as my Dad was a gardener and I should pull them up.”
“Do you realise they were only planted in the spring and they were going to flower in this autumn? They’re not going to flower now, are they?”
“I shall be writing to your mother and father.”
“Oh, no, please don’t do that, miss. I shall put them back.”
“Hold out your hands.”
Reluctantly I did.
My hands were smarting so much when I came out of her office, but that didn’t stop me punching Charlie on the nose.
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Play the Game is a book by Karen J Mossman and it has a great story.
“He couldn’t take responsibility for me as it was tough looking after himself.”
This is Stella talking about her dad. All she ever wanted was his love again, but he never recovered from the shock that tore their family apart.
Someone had to be strong and Stella took on that role, always living in hope that her dad would come back to her.
Meanwhile Stella’s own life was non existent as she fought to pay the bills and keep them afloat.
That was until she met Kelly. Taking refuge from the cold in a hotel, there he was and they struck up a conversation.
Dating was never on her horizon and the thought scared her and she almost backed out.
But she went, and knew she had to keep her dad a secret. She never guessed Kelly had a secret of his own.
She found out from the cruel girls as work. Just another way to mock her.
Can Kelly and Stella make it through their secrets?
Read Play the Game to find out!
Play the Game is an Electric Eclectic novelette and can be read in one sitting. All books are just £1/$1/€1
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