Hello hello and welcome to this week’s response to the Girlontheedge’s prompt CONCEQUENCES. There are consequences to our actions and this week’s narrator was willing to face what was coming to them, and got quite the surprise. Follow our non-gender specific narrator, as they explain how they go to where they are today, and why they made the decisions that they did. You may want to check the tags for triggers if last week’s squicked to, as this piece could be a follow-up.

I stood there, numb, in the wake of the verdict being read, too number to cheer at my good fortune, too numb to flinch from the wailing accusations of a mother saying I took away her baby, and it felt like all I did was blink my eyes and the courtroom was empty save me and my lawyer.

In my wildest dreams I had never expected this ending, when I bought the gun, I knew that there would be consequences to my actions, but I did it anyway, and so I never thought to make a plan for after.

The gun was registered to my name, purchased for only one purpose, I didn’t even learn how to shoot, because I knew that I would do it up close, and even someone who has never held a gun before can hit the target at point blank range.

I didn’t run after I did it, just stood there, waiting for the police, watching him die, knowing it was over, that he couldn’t hurt anyone else the way he had hurt her, and I felt free for the first time since I found her bruised and broken after the attack.

I let my lawyer choose the strategy, not-guilty by reason of temporary insanity, a parade of experts displayed before I sat on the stand telling the story of my sister, how he killed her, how I felt he had killed her, how she wasn’t dead but she wasn’t herself until she ended it after the judge read not guilty, how it wasn’t just her but there wasn’t enough evidence, and that I couldn’t live in a world where he walked free to do it again, because he would do it again, they always did.

My lawyer was smiling, jury nullification, he called it, them knowing that I did it, but in knowing why they understood, choosing not to charge me, and I knew I should have been happy with that, with being free, but I also knew that there was a mother mourning a son as I result of my actions, making the sweet taste of victory turn to ash on my tongue.


Don’t Blink

Welcome to this week’s six-sentence story, based on the word of the week, SECOND, and oh my, this one is not for the faint of heart. This one has trigger warnings a plenty, and while there is nothing explicit in the story at all, there are implications a plenty, the least of which is that the narrator was a victim of a crime, and how far you take this, is really up to you. I suggest you read the tags if you are triggered by ANY kind of crime or assault, because again, there are implications a plenty here. For those who choose to go on, I hope you find this interesting.

Blink, he was gone, it was over, it would never be over, it had changed nothing, it had changed everything, and she lay stunned, alone, unable to do anything, even cry.

Blink, she was surrounded by people, all asking questions that she couldn’t answer, not knowing what had happened, how long ago, or why, and she allowed herself to be guided into the ambulance, flinching from the bright lights and screaming siren.

Blink, the fabric of the hospital gown was rough against her skin, but nowhere near as abrasive as the cloth cleaning the sticky blood from her forehead, and she stared uncomprehendingly at the officer by the door, holding her clothes in a a clear plastic bag labelled evidence.

Blink, there were more of them here now, voices overlapping to form a sea of sound from which she could not pick the words, and she wished she could remember something about what happened, but they told her it was Thursday, not Tuesday, scoffing at her unreliability.

Blink, she walked down to the cab wearing gift shop pajamas, since she knew no one who could bring her clothes, and she clutched the voucher in her hands, along with the cards for the detective, the counsellor, the hospital follow-up appointment, hoping someone would be there to let her into the dorm because she didn’t have her keys.

Blink, she answered the door, listening as they told her that the case had gone cold, no leads, no cameras, no descriptions, and she forced herself to keep her eyes open, even as they began to burn, because she knew now what could happen in second it took to blink her eyes.

Rustling in the Dark

Hello Hello and welcome to Write piece under 300 words about someone who realizes too late what is about to happen. Follow our narrator of no specific gender as they go home and realize that there is someone in the house…

I knew that Tom wasn’t supposed to be home, and his car wasn’t in the driveway, which is why I hesitated in unlocking the door.  I could hear a rustling sound within, a hushed whisper, and I wondered if it was too late to run.

It was dark now, the moon new, and the cul de sac, surprisingly absent of the usual door lights that would give them entire place a dim glow.  I know that some of them have to be home, if I ran, if I yelled, would they even look, or would they ignore me the way they did the day I screamed bloody murder after walking into the spider web between my car and fence.

Every instinct told me to flee, there was someone inside, and that they felt the need to hide it said everything.  The sound of my phone ringing betrayed my presence, and I could barely hear it over the sound of my heart pounding in my chest.

I shifted my keys to between my fingers, braced myself for the fight, and opened the door, knowing at once what was going on, but too late to do anything to stop the assault.

I was overwhelmed by the bright lights, the roaring noise, and it took me a moment longer than it should have to decipher the screams.


Three of a Kind

So this week’s story is a little out of character, and I am not sure what I was thinking when I was writing it. It feels a little like a summary of a longer story, but follow the story of Shilah, Stephan, and Grayson, who find a different way to look at happily ever after.

Every morning she woke up, miserable, exhausted, over tired, and then she remembered. A smile slowly crossed her face as she turned at the edge of the bed to take a long look at her lovers.

It wasn’t common, and most people would never be able to handle this kind of relationship, but for them this was it.

Shilah and Stephan had been friends since they were kids, and half way through high school they met Grayson. Until that moment Shilah had been able to ignore the crush that Stephan had on her, and it seemed that Gray changed everything, throwing it all out of balance.

Soon Steph was more into Gray than Steph, and then it seemed he bounced between them until her and Gray finally started dating.

It flamed out after two and a half years, not due to lack of love, but due to lack of resources. They both had things they wanted more than each other, and at some point there just wasn’t enough time being made.

They said they would be friends after, and well, they were. A year later when Gray and Shilah went to a fundraiser for her Mom’s work, it was as friends, and soon it spiralled into more. A year and a half later it started to spiral back out.
By that time Steph was living with them, a small door-less office had a bead curtain to delineate the transition into bedroom. He had tried dorms, living alone, roommates, and after two months a couch surfing had finally, reluctantly accepted the office conversion.

When Shilah and Gray had started melting down, Steph had stepped up to help out, by going to Shilah’s work events, or watching stupid sci-fi movies with Gray. Gray and Shilah had in turn stepped up their friendship with Steph with treats from the grocers, or an afternoon out at the park to people watch.

When a classmate had casually commented on her partners, Shilah hadn’t even really parsed it. When the subject of polyamory came up, and she got several pointed looks, she explained that they were just good friends.

It was a kind girl with purple hair and big glasses that explained that she understood, but did Shilah know that they could be more?

It was like the genie had been let out of the bottle and from then on, it’s all she could think about.

In the days that followed it was always with her. Even when she wasn’t actively thinking about it, it was still there, lurking in the back of her mind.

Multiple google searches, followed by history clearing just in case, had given her a better idea of what she was looking at and to her surprise it was a lot more than the threesome that she was thinking about.

Honestly, with her own lack of interest in the bedroom lately due to midterms, it was what they were already doing. The thing was though, that sex changed everything and while they had been together in a few configurations, this would be different, more, and if they fucked this up it would be the end of a friendship that she wasn’t sure she could take.

Even bringing it up could ruin everything, and once she put it out there, it was a bell that could not be un-rung.

She was not however as cautious as she had thought, she realized as she looked up at the screen. The three of them were sitting curled up on the couch watching a movie with a triad relationship and she doubted it was an accident, especially with the way that Steph wouldn’t meet her eyes.

It had only taken 5 or 6 times of Steph looking away and flushing before Gray had realized something was up and by the end of the film, he two was flushing.

Bell rung.

So she started to talk, laid out her case, and then fled, mortified, to the small café down the street mumbling coffee as she stumbled out the door.

She sat on one of the overstuffed couches drowning her sorrows in a coffee that was mostly sugar, letting the crappy music wash through her when she heard a familiar cough.

She looked up, and there were her boys, red faced and awkward as they sat on either side of her.

They sat in silence for a while until, almost so quietly she couldn’t here him, Steph said that they were in.

That was 23 years ago, and against all odds, here they were, still together, still happy, still them.