What a Difference a Day Makes

Welcome to this weeks response to the Friday Picture prompt on The Writer’s Mess! With Halloween on the brain, and this weeks image being that of a full moon, it doesn’t take a genius to realise where this weeks prompt was heading.  Follow the story of our narrator, who get’s in a car accident the week of the full moon…

Getting in a car accident sucked.

Getting in a car accident and healing so fast that they thought they mixed up her scans with another patients, really sucked.

Getting in a car accident, and being in a coma for an indeterminate time, that sucked the most.

Losing track of time wasn’t that big of an issue for most people, but when you turned into a bloodthirsty monster on the full moon, keeping an accurate calendar was key.

She only realised that the moon was rising full, when her bones started to snap, startling the nurse who was taking her vitals.

They thought it was tetanus, and so they ignored her pleas for them to leave.

They all died. 

The doctors, the nurses, the other patients, all of them died in that hospital, because she had a brain injury and couldn’t remember the day of the week.

It was a massacre, plain and simple. 

It the morning she called the council, and explained what happened.

The hospital burned, the investigators were bribed to look the other way, and the survivors didn’t retain the title long.

She was tried, and found innocent in a court of law, despite the body count. 

The judge looked at her with sympathy as the verdict was delivered, because she would have to live with the weight of what she had done for the rest of her life.

She never lost track of her dates again.



This is this kind of story I call horror of a different type, as it tells the story of a little girl learning the hard way that stranger danger only accounts for 1% of all child adductions. Its based on that line from Criminal Minds, and my own indoctrination of “Stranger Danger” from school, where they mostly taught us to not take candy from a stranger.

I heard a line once in a show that the concept of stranger danger had made people aware of the man in the white van, but that was only 1% of all abductions. That most children knew those that took them. I certainly did.

He wasn’t a friend, or a family member, or even a teacher. He was the dude at the park. I know on the surface that this makes it sound like he was a stranger, but he really wasn’t. His name was Charlie, and he lived a few streets over from me. He worked at the same place as my dad for a while, until the lay offs. Thats where I first met Charlie, at a fourth of July party that the company was throwing in their heyday, when the money was still flowing.

Then it stopped flowing, and they let most of the staff go. My dad managed to stay on, he worked at the warehouse, and coordinated the shipping, before from the production, and after from the imports. I didn’t get what that meant at the time, but I could always repeat it to people.. All I really understood was that it wasn’t great, but it was a job, and that was what was important, I guess. He worked a lot more hours after the lay offs, Mmom too, at the time I thought they were just really busy, but looking back dad must have taken a pay cut.

Anyway, Charlie had gotten a few part time things, I saw him around a lot, but nothing stable, because the guy spent a lot of time in the park. The other kids refered to him as the dude at the park, but since I knew him, they never really told anyone about it because Charlie wasn’t a stranger.

He was also, a lot of fun. He brought things to the park for us kids, shovel and kites, and trucks, and sometimes snacks. We all quickly learned that a day where Charlie showed at the park with a big bag of stuff, was going to be a great day.

I think it’s why I wasn’t even remotely suspicious of him when he asked for help picking up some goodies for the day. My friends weren’t there yet, and I was SO excited to see what he was gonna get us ,that I got in the back of that car and did up my seat belt myself.

I knew Charlie, Charlie was fun, and he gave us treats all the time, so I took the juice-box without question. It was my favorite flavor, because unlike Dad, Charlie was great about remembering that kind of thing. He always brought each and every one of our favorites, no matter how weird they were.

I dozed off in the car, and it was something I did a lot back then, I didn’t even realize something was wrong when I did wake up. I wasn’t sure where we were, and it was the same amount of bright out. It felt like I had been sleeping a long time though, and when I looked down I realized I was wearing different clothes. I tried to open the window, and the door, but I couldn’t the handles didn’t move. Even my seatbelt was stuck on, and when I tried to kick I realized my feet were tiedd down. I screamed and cried, and Charlie said nothing.

I finally wore myself out, and just stared out the window a while. It was okay, someone would find me, it hadn’t been that long. That’s when I saw the sign “Welcome to Fort Worth, TX”. I remembered seeing it on a map once it school, when my teacher drew a big circle showing hour far away you could go in a day if you drove the entire time, and my heart sunk. It had been a day, and I was very far from my home, and Charlie didn’t show signs of stopping any time soon.

Eventually I whined I was thirsty, hoping he would stop, but he just gave me another juice box, and I drank it thirsty, and hungry. I felt myself getting sleepy, and I realized that the juice had tasted a little funny, the same as last time.

When I woke up this time, I was in a basement. Later I would discover that we were in San Ysirdo, in south San Diego. I didn’t leave the basement for a long time. Charlie home schooled me, called me his little girl, and taught me to be good.

I did get good enough eventually, to be allowed out. I went to high school there, and Charlie even let me go to South Western when I graduated. There were two rules, I was Shelly Wright, and I had to live at home.

I miss them, from time to time, my birth parents. I think they would be happy for me here though. I had a good life with Charlie, he took care of me, and I loved him like a Father. I wasn’t part of the 1%, but things turned out well enough for me.

Weird add on to this, about the “taking candy from a stranger” thing. In high school, two of my friends actually did get into a strangers van for candy. They were lucky, because this person ended up being a parent, making a donation of candy to the school for Halloween, but I often think back on that, and think how badly two fifteen-year-olds getting into a stranger’s van could have ended…

In Any Universe

Hello Hello, I realized that I wrote this on Monday and then never scheduled it for release, but here is this week’s response to the six-sentence writing prompt of BRANCH by girlontheedge. I am writing this one for Asexual Awareness week, about a Aiya, who is enduring the most boring/out of touch lecture of her life.

Multi-verse theory stipulates that every time a decision is made, there is a branch made for every possible outcome, and so there are infinite universes, with infinite diversity.

That said, sitting in a classroom, listening to a seventy-year-old white guy lecture her on women’s sexuality, Aiya couldn’t imagine that there was a universe where she didn’t think that this guy was full of shit.

Intellectually she understood that humans, as a species, had evolved in ways that meant that the animal homo sapiens sapiens had certain natural inclinations when it came to sex, but that all ignored the effect of civilization on humans as a whole, and she wasn’t having it.

A few students walked when he droned one about “deviant” sexual behavior, but Aiya always enjoyed a good train wreck, and besides, when she did file her complaint after the end of class, she wanted to make sure she had recorded the entire lecture, lest he later pretend that she missed the critical piece.

It was however illegal to record someone in a conversation you were not a part of, so she spoke up, and asked the question about her own orientation, only to have the man just about self-destruct in his rant on how asexuality does not exist.

It wasn’t even the most offensive response she had gotten to the ace question, doctors, therapists, friends alike, all recoiled when faced with someone that simply did not have interest, and it was then that she was saved from hearing more this day, by a member of the administration showing up to stop the man mid-lecture, but she did wonder, what else he was going to say to cover the second half of what would likely be his final lecture at the university.

The Last Petal

Hello and welcome to this weeks Friday Picture Prompt response. This one is a follow-up/ AU ending to a tale as old as time. What is a certain curse ended a different way. Follow our man or well, monster, as a rose goes up in smoke.

He watched as the rose began to evaporate, his hope along with it.  He howled, as he thought of what it would be like to be stuck like this for all time, but it seemed he was mistaken.

The curse, was not as he had, until know, interpreted. There was no endless life cursed as a beast, or even growing old and dying like this.

As the first spasm racked his frame, he felt fear, and then he rejoiced, the spell, it was breaking. This is how it had felt when he had become this animal, and now it was being undone, he would be human again. 

It grew more and more painful, but he bore it, for the reward would be sweet, as he now knew that she loved him. When he finally passed out from the pain, it was with the knowledge she would be there when he awoke, but he was wrong.

She liked him well enough, but she didn’t love him. How could she love someone who would keep a prisoner? The pain, was that of the curse finishing its work, ending the life that had been spared all those years ago, and freeing his staff. The witch had given him ten years to learn, grow, and that he chose to brood, and sulk, rather than change was proof that he did not deserve the gift he was given.  It was better to end him now, than allow such a tyrant to rule over the people.