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NeoGAF Creative Writing Challenge #6 - "Playing With Fire"

Status
Not open for further replies.
C

Cyan

Banned
Theme: "Playing With Fire"

Word Limit: 1,000

Submission Deadline: Wednesday, 5/7 by 11:59 PM Pacific.

Voting begins Thursday, 5/8, and goes until Saturday, 5/10 at 11:59 PM Pacific

Results:

1st Place: Aaron - "Chasing After the Sun"
2nd Place: Cyan - "Light"
3rd Place: Iceman - "Camelot, 90210"

Submission Guidelines:

- All submissions must be written during the time of the challenge. We don't want a snippet of your doctoral thesis from 1996 being used here.
- One entry per poster. You can submit and then edit if you'd like, but finalizing before submitting is encouraged.
- Spelling and Grammatical errors can be used to great effect when the story, characters, and setting demand it. However, proofreading and spell-checking your writing will probably result in a more positive attitude towards it when people are voting.
- Using the topic as the title of your piece is discouraged. These challenges get a large number of submissions and if entries share the same title, it's difficult for the readers to separate them out come voting time.
- Any writing style is welcome, but remember that most people are probably going to vote for the well written short story over an elementary acrostic poem.
- There are many ways to interpret the theme for this assignment, we are all writers or wannabe writers, so keep that in mind when writing and critiquing others' works.
- Thousands of people read GAF, so if you don't want some masterpiece of yours to be stolen and seen in Hollywood a year from now, don't post it on here.
- Finally, there is a handy word count checker at www.wordcounttool.com. Nobody wants to be a word count nazi, but please keep your submission under the limit.

Voting Guidelines:

- Anyone can vote, even those that do not submit a piece during the thread.
- Three votes per voter. Please denote in your voting your 1st (3 pts), 2nd (2 pts), and 3rd (1 pt) place votes.
- Please read all submissions before voting, it is only fair to those who put in the effort.
- You must vote in order to be eligible to win the challenge. Critiques/comments are encouraged but not required.
- When the voting period ends, votes will be tallied and the winner will get a collective pat on the back and will be in charge of picking a new topic to write about and pick the word length.

Have fun!


The Entries:

bob_arctor - Heavy-handed - and then Sean Bell was a zombie.
Davedough - Confession - an ancient, destructive power battles his brother for supremacy.
Barrage - Children of All Ages - inmates visit the circus.
nitewulf - Protected - a little girl's father helps her to be brave and protect her mother.
Aaron - Chasing After the Sun - Running Shadow seeks to overcome the curse put on him by the Frog God.
Iceman - Camelot, 90210 - OMG, Lance <3 s Gwen 4eva!
ronito - The House - a Vegas floor manager is sure the house always wins.
AlteredBeast - The Weight of All Things - a man makes a deal with the Devil for eternal life.
bjork - Cocky - bjork was full of crap.
batbeg - Man of Fire - a jewel thief gets chased down by a superhero.
Cyan - Light - a cave explorer is trapped in the dark.
Memles - Matchmaker - he doesn't create love connections, entanglements, couplings... just little sticks that make fire.
Scribble - A Different Challenge - a dragon-hunter encounters a new kind of dragon.

Previous Challenges:

#1 - "The Things Unseen" (Winner: beelzebozo)
#2 - "An Unlikely Pair" (Winner: Aaron)
#3 - "weightless, breathless" (Winner: Azih)
#4 - "On the way" (Winner: DumbNameD)
#5 - "The End" (Winner: Cyan)
 
C

Cyan

Banned
I made a few changes to the OP. Mostly clean-up and clarification. Go ahead and let me know if you object to any of the changes.
 
D

Davedough

Member
Ya know, during the last challenge, I was thinking that if I had won, I'd make a new challenge with fire as the theme. Thats awesome. Cant wait to see what everyone can make of it.
 
B

bjork

Member
Davedough said:
Gotta love the confidence. =) Cant wait to read what you got in store.
Click to expand...

I'm trying to have more confidence in my non-skills. People keep saying I should do a webcomic or even a book, but I keep doubting myself and my ability to do anything entertaining. So hopefully my story here is a good first step. :)
 
N

Napoleonthechimp

Member
Believe in yourself, but remain humble.

I've got an idea for a story that could sort of fit the subject, but I doubt I'll have time to write it (despite the short word limit).
 
M

Mike Works

Member
bjork said:
Placeholder post. I'll re-edit with the winning entry soon.
Click to expand...
ugh, don't do this. i'm not going to spend all week re-reading the entire thread to see if people have edited stories into their posts.
 
C

Cyan

Banned
Davedough said:
Ya know, during the last challenge, I was thinking that if I had won, I'd make a new challenge with fire as the theme. Thats awesome. Cant wait to see what everyone can make of it.
Click to expand...
:) Cool. A month or two ago I thought that if I ever won, I'd do this theme. I had second thoughts this morning ("oh noes! it's too cliche!"), but hopefully we'll get some good stories out of it.

bjork said:
Placeholder post. I'll re-edit with the winning entry soon.
Click to expand...
Oh, bjork. :lol I thought your haiku for challenge #2 was awesome, so go for it.

But yeah, I gotta agree with Mike. Don't make us reread old posts!
 
W

water_wendi

Water is not wet!
The One Thing i Will Miss When im No Longer a Man: an autobiographical smut story or Several Things Wrong All at Once: A Wive's Tale

Bear with me.. its 25? minutes after the moment i realized that there will be one thing after i have SRS that i will no longer be able to feel as a woman. im extremely high right now so ill be quick.

My girlfriend was fucking me. And i came as always, into a condom as to minimize any mess that might make it to the carpet. Standard weekend stuff. So afterwards, im heading to the bathroom to clean up. i then drop the spent condom DOWN THE FUCKING DRAIN. On accident of course. So i start freaking out because i realize how totally shitfaced i am. You see, thats when it hit my brain that i would post my condom dropping experience with Gaf.. so i started to like hyperventalite.

i had to do something.i was spiraling out of control and needed to ground myself to this realm. Simultaneously, while searching my inner expanded mind for solution, my autonomic trance state started to urinate. The pleasure i felt! Urine passing along my urethra.. expelling out whatever watery hormone beaten gelatenous liquid i produce that passes for semen. It felt so marvelous.. but this slowly over 6 seconds or so.. became a miracle of "pleasurable stupidity". The kind where a goofy smile makes it way onto your face irregardless of any conscious attempt to stem it.

i knew i had to this message onto GAF. My good internet video game playing (and few computer game playing) chums. The problem was that doing so would most certainly get me banned (and i would prefer to not get banned because i need to sell my game collection to help pay for my surgeries). Thats when i remembered the "Creative Writing" thread. Maybe if i bullshit my way though i can post my crazy existential sex trip as some kind of hippie/beatnik art. They surely might let this slide. Just this once?

Nah. ill still get banned.


(i dont have to put a cheesy line about "thats what you get with playing with fire" for this to qualify right? i mean.. i read it back with a similar line added at the end and i think if i have to spell everything out it cheapens the whole effect)
 
D

Davedough

Member
(neutral) Number 2
Member
(Yesterday, 10:31 PM)


His screenname sums up just about how I feel about his post.


Dude, there are 3 billion other posts you can trash with your adventures of learning how to have sex properly. I dont want to read them here. Grow up and GTFO.
 
B

bob_arctor

Tough_Smooth
The undead shambled into Manhattan this afternoon. They sought flesh of course and found it in mounds, particularly by the affluent outposts of 73rd & York. The ensuing carnage lasted approximately two hours. New York police, brave souls all, gunned down their last zombie with whatever firepower afforded them, many stopping to reload their spent clips in an effort to make sure the dead finally remained so.

Every last corpse, some say thousands, turned out to be a black male summoned from the void by the psychic anguish of the Sean Bell verdict. Witnesses claimed Bell was even there, though they also muttered recriminations about the company he was apparently still keeping. Nobody gave a shit. The police had done their job, the people were safe again, and a law was immediately enacted stating that any recently killed black males had to be shot once in the head prior to interment to avoid any and all future protests.

The situation presented a special sort of paralysis for local law enforcement. Statistics show that the majority of their lethal force was expended on those very same black males. The new ordinance therefore required a stringent and stubborn adherence to the letter of its intent. At every funeral for every black male, particularly those dead due to police action, a ranking officer was placed in attendance. He or she was allowed their service revolver on the condition of only one bullet remaining in the chamber.

The NYPD simply could not afford any mistakes.
 
C

Cyan

Banned
RumpledForeskin said:
I was kinda hoping the word count would be changed a few times by now for different challenges.
Click to expand...
I thought about making it 1500, just to change things up a bit. There's sort of a logistical issue, though, which is that it becomes harder to read all the stories in order to vote if they're longer.

If there's an outcry in favor, I could always change it right now, before people have really gotten writing.
 
B

BrodiemanTTR

Member
Cyan said:
I thought about making it 1500, just to change things up a bit. There's sort of a logistical issue, though, which is that it becomes harder to read all the stories in order to vote if they're longer.
Click to expand...

This is my big concern. I know 1000 words can be a little stifling creatively, but it's a bit easier to read.
 
S

Scribble

Member
On one hand, I'd want it to be 1500 because all of my stories so far have landed perfectly around that mark -- on the other, the 1000 words makes it more challenging.
 
Cauliflower of Love

Cauliflower of Love

Banned
It's becoming a "write your 1,000 word story this week" thing, instead of a "challenge" really.

Like maybe having a more direct challenge( i.e. 500 -700 words in narrative, with the theme of _____).

I know people are taking it upon themselves to write in different styles though.
 
R

ronito

Member
Cyan said:
I thought about making it 1500, just to change things up a bit. There's sort of a logistical issue, though, which is that it becomes harder to read all the stories in order to vote if they're longer.

If there's an outcry in favor, I could always change it right now, before people have really gotten writing.
Click to expand...
no bigger than 1000 otherwise it will be too long to read all the entries
 
C

Cyan

Banned
RumpledForeskin said:
It's becoming a "write your 1,000 word story this week" thing, instead of a "challenge" really.
Click to expand...
For a lot of us, that was kind of the point. Get a theme to draw inspiration from, and see what you can come up with. The challenge/competitive aspect is there to make it more fun, and to make us try to get better every time. Which is the ultimate goal, no?

We originally took inspiration from the photo assignment threads, where they are usually given a one-word theme and can run wild from there. I think that works pretty well.

Like maybe having a more direct challenge( i.e. 500 -700 words in narrative, with the theme of _____).
Click to expand...
I think that could be a lot of fun if done once in a while, but it might limit variation and creativity. I really like the wide variety of stuff we get, from heartfelt poems to surreal humor to hard sci-fi.

Anyway, definitely give this a try when you win the challenge. I'll be interested to see how it turns out. :)


With three against and no one in favor, I'll just leave it at 1000 words for this challenge.
 
M

Mike Works

Member
there's really not that much difference when it comes to reading 1500 words instead of 1000.

if i had won the last contest, i was either going to make it 500 or 1500 words. i think it'd be a good idea to mix things up too.
 
C

Cyan

Banned
hey_monkey said:
Think I might actually get around to participating in this one!
Click to expand...
Cool! We need some women in these threads.

Mike- it's not much of a difference for one story, but it's a potential 50% increase in total words read... I do think it might be time to change it up a bit, though. We could have an increase to 1500 for one challenge, see if we still get the same number of voters. Anyway, maybe we can convince the next winner to do it. :)
 
A

AlteredBeast

Fork 'em, Sparky!
1,000 words should be fine 90% of the time. :p It will be really fun if we do a crazy one sometime that is like 200 words or something and make people do something that they have never done...poetry! :p
 
D

Davedough

Member
Cyan said:
Cool! We need some women in these threads.

Mike- it's not much of a difference for one story, but it's a potential 50% increase in total words read... I do think it might be time to change it up a bit, though. We could have an increase to 1500 for one challenge, see if we still get the same number of voters. Anyway, maybe we can convince the next winner to do it. :)
Click to expand...


Yeah, you shouldn't have to work very hard to convince me. =P
 
C

Cyan

Banned
Davedough said:
Yeah, you shouldn't have to work very hard to convince me. =P
Click to expand...
Not so fast my friend!

P2_g_fea_EORadio_Corso1.jpg
 
D

Davedough

Member
Man, I'm actually having troubles with this theme. I thought I'd like the theme since it was one I wanted to start, but I just cant get the ideas in my head down on paper. I've re-written the same story 3 times in different narratives and it still feels dull. =(
 
D

Davedough

Member
~Confession~

820 Words


My mother has always shown more appreciation to my brother. Having given birth to the both of us at the same time, you would think she’d love us the same. Yet the love is clearly on that side of the pendulum. I assume it’s due to the fact that he shares her affinity for purity and cleanliness while I’ve always had the knack for destruction, fear and turmoil. Should I be cast aside because of the way I was created? I think not. I can’t help the way that I am. That’s OK; I take after my father anyway. Without him, none of them would be here anyway.

I remember the first time I was brought from our ethereal inhabitance into your world. Some foolish creature resembling an ape more than a man stumbled across my enchantment. Being the harder of the two siblings to conjure, it appears that this monkey-man found a way to bring me into your world and I quickly saw what a fine playground it could be indeed. A world ruled by my brother who boasts occupying an astounding 2/3rd of your world’s surface. Surely there was room for me to play for a bit. And play I have.

For years your kind has tried to harness my power, but you’ve never graduated past the foolish first attempts so long ago. Sure, you’ve grown as a species, but you still think you have what it takes to contain the likes of me. Everything you trifle little people have done has either begun or resulted in my presence. You must either conjure me to begin your petty experiments, or your errors result in my fury being unleashed upon you.

Such inconsequential creatures you are. You measure time in such small increments. Sometime around what you would call 64 B.C., I showed you my wrath and decimated your kingdom of… Rome, was it? At that point in time, you named me. I became Nero in your eyes and I appreciate your acceptance of my existence.

Further down your timeline. In a quaint little place that you call London was home of a baker. A baker that would unknowingly unleash me upon the denizens of your town and allow me to tear down your walls to mere kindling. Several days you let me burn furiously and I thank you for it.

In the desert area of your world, a place I feel most at home, one man gave me the most generous of offerings when he allowed me to consume fields of thick black oil for months on end. I have never felt more alive. He was my best servant and will surely be treated kindly in the next life.


Why haven’t you people learned yet? Your town of Chicago, built entirely of wood. I can’t help but be grateful to the sheer generosity of your species for allowing me to consume an entire town in such a short amount of time. But alas, your people have become increasingly one-sided in your affirmation of my brother. You have called upon him when I’ve been at my greatest to squelch my outstretched tongues, lashing out to taste yet another victim. His impedance has caused my impudence.


Thus has begun the Great War that he and I have waged upon each other. Eternally, I quest to rule this place as my brother has for so long. You enshrine him for his “life-giving” qualities, but forget that he can be just as deadly if left unchecked. How many have perished in his wrath as well, yet you actively consume him and accept him as one of your own? How long before I have my day and you people learn to bathe in flames? Far more purifying if you ask me.

For a time, the two greatest nations in your world were at a stand-off. Each boasted more knowledge of my existence and threatened to unleash my greatest creation upon each other if terms weren’t reconciled. Such a pity that you people worked out your indifference. Now I must rely on other, lesser people to carry out my will and bring this place to the inferno it yearns to be.

So I leave you with that in hopes that you too will stumble upon the enchantment which brings me into your world once again. I’m already sprouting up in various areas of your world just to let you know that I haven’t gone anywhere. I believe you call them “wildfires”. I call it strategic planning. With nearly every motorized device asking for me to lend it my power, you’re bound to make a mistake somewhere along the line. Whether it be you creatures emphatically reaching out to space and my power proves too much for you to bear again, or your own self hatred leads you to total annihilation; I will have my day. You will know my name. My name… is Fire.
 
C

Cyan

Banned
Hmm, that's an interesting take that I hadn't anticipated. I like the concept, but I think the format that you chose limited your narrative options a bit. I wonder if it might've worked better if you'd chosen one of the events mentioned (the Chicago fire, the London fire), and told a story from the same perspective, but specifically about that?
 
Barrage

Barrage

Member
Davedough said:
How long before I have my day and you people learn to bathe in flames? Far more purifying if you ask me.
Click to expand...

GREAT line.

After missing the last few challenges due to Life rearing it's ugly head , it's time for me to try my hand once again. Hopefully this theme will lead to great things!
 
C

Cyan

Banned
AlteredBeast said:
I have a great idea for this challenge!

Nobody steal it and I promise that I will get it done this time. :p
Click to expand...
Is it about a high school football player who lost one of his balls in a tragic childhood accident, and his teammates call him "Onette," claiming that it's after the level in Smash Bros*, and the coach is kind of a dick so he ignores the obvious lie and covers up a laugh every time someone says it, and the kid cries himself to sleep at night?

Because if so, I'm stealing it even as we speak.



*They never played Earthbound.
 
Barrage

Barrage

Member
Children Of All Ages
Word Count: 1000



My incarceration is entirely due to boredom.

You see, I have never been someone who cares for the mundane in life. I shirk Routine; I chase off the Ordinary . And if someone gets hurt in my pursuit of the unusual, so much the better. It's quite stunning how little thanks i've recieved for all the good deeds i've done with a phone. So what if there wasn't really a bomb inside of my local high school? So what if Father McLern wasn't really molesting children? So what if i'm only pretending to be a serial killer? The kids got out of school for a day, Father McLern recieved many unusual letters and phone calls, and i've gotten to meet some very unusual people. Truly a win for everyone.

Of course, some people i've met have been more unusual then others. Take my encounter with Warden Hollander in Des Moines Recreational Facility. I've never seen a man coddle inmates like he did. He was lenient, joking, and always attempting to rehabillate us. In his mind, we were a prison full of broken dolls he intended to fix. (" Now I know you boys are in a bad spot. But remember-I'm always here to help.")

You could see him often in The Yard, laughing at a prisoner's tasteless joke("Haha! I would've raped her too!") He was a sickening excuse for a human being.

I'm sure he thought it was a ravishing idea to take his "favourite" inmates to the Clemmenson Circus. He probably thought we would dote on him afterwards like satisfied children. So he sent us (why I was included, I have no idea- maybe he took my apathy towards his affection as a challenge) to a small, run-down facility with no guards ("Who needs them? They're good boys. They'll behave.")

The circus was located in the dead center of Nowhere, so noone considered escape.The circus had an odd air about it that fascinated me-it seemed to be caught between eras, every performer moving in an syncronized format that was almost inhuman.

We sat down in the bleachers of the empty main tent. The chosen inmates were some of the most cruel in the prison-good old Hollander, always willing to give a second chance.

There was Charlie Barson, eyeing the scantily-clad Peanut Girls with an appetite hunger could not fill. There was Menas Sunchez, whose immense, seven-foot frame and cinder-block hands led him to be a feared physical prescence.

And in addition to the rest of the thieves and killers , there was Henry Jay Maxwell. He was a small man compared to Menas, yet much more feared. His rap sheet read more like a novel, with hideous atrocity followed by hideous atrocity. He was a powderkeg whose exploits led him to be nicknamed The Cannibal Scythe. ("He's a pussycat! You just have to pet him."). He sat on his own,in the front row of the bleachers, smoking a cigar with a smirk on his face.

The show went on without incident. Towards the end of the night, a clown became the first act of the night to venture close to Henry Jay. He juggled apples that had long ago gone rotten, while trying to choke back coughs from Henry's smoke. Henry sat back, bemused.

The clown stopped, the apples plummeting to the ground. He whipped out a seltzer bottle from his flourescent jacket, and sprayed Henry in the face, putting out his cigar while soaking the killer's shirt. Every criminal eye turned towards Henry- watching intently, whether with fear or curiosity, what he was going to do. Even the clown now seemed unsure of his decision.

Henry tilted his head back and laughed, the harsh sound ringing through the old tent. He laughed until tears ran down his cheeks.

Then he bit into the clown's nose.

At first, a humorous honk came out, as Henry's teeth tore through the fake red coating. Then a hideous crunch as Henry ripped into the cartiledge. The clown fell to the ground, weeping. Every circus performer turned, fury etched onto thier faces.

Suddenly, Charlie Barson fell forward, moaning as two peanut girls beat him across the head with peanut bags. As one young blonde pulled back her arm, I caught a glimpse of a brick concealed in the brown container.

The battle was on. The performers swarmed, with more intensity and ferocity then thier job titles belied. I ran quickly from the carnage, catching glimpses of astonishing sights as I sought the exit. Sunchez standing in front of a tiny clown car, grabbing each miniature clown as he exited and firing them into the front window of the car. He grabbed two at a time with his huge ,callused hands, flinging one after another into the broken glass.

Yet more came spilling out.

I saw trapeze artists expertly holding each other as they reached down, deftly lifting unsuspecting inmates into the air- never to appear again. I saw a ringmaster snap his whip, and a lion react to his master's call, quickly seizing his jaws onto the exposed throat of a prisoner.

Before I ran out of the tent, I turned and saw Henry Jay stand up slowly, the affronting clown held in his hands. The blood pooled around his lips contrasting with the paleness of his skin led him to appear as a ghoulish clown himself. He laughed, long and hard.

I fainted.

When I awoke, police had ended the insane melee. The remaining employees of the circus later commited suicide-they knew they wouldn't last a day in Des Moines.

Warden Hollander wasn't so lucky. He was found to be criminally negligent and was appointed to the prison he once ran. He assumed the many "friends" he had made would protect him, would in fact make this experience almost enjoyable.

He was found dead his first day, in The Yard with a Barbell collapsing his chest. Apparently, his spotter had "accidently" stopped paying attention on his third set.

A bad spot indeed.
 
D

Davedough

Member
Cyan said:
Hmm, that's an interesting take that I hadn't anticipated. I like the concept, but I think the format that you chose limited your narrative options a bit. I wonder if it might've worked better if you'd chosen one of the events mentioned (the Chicago fire, the London fire), and told a story from the same perspective, but specifically about that?
Click to expand...


You know, I wrote that 3 separate ways and I still hate it. I just couldn't get it out of my head the way I saw it. Unfortunately, my time between my job and family life doesn't lend well to creative writing, so I have to take the opportunities when they present themselves. I dont like this submission and even considered asking if anyone minded that I omit this one and submit a new one. Oh well.... there's always next challenge. =)

Edit: And dont think that I'm insinuating that you hated it or are talking bad about it. If you did, thats fine too. I hate it. I actually enjoyed my last few submissions, but this one is by far my least favorite.
 
A

AlteredBeast

Fork 'em, Sparky!
Shit...I just posted my writing and the stupid Server Error erased it...I did NOT copy and paste.

I don't know if I have the heart to go back and rewrite it. :(
 
D

Davedough

Member
AlteredBeast said:
Shit...I just posted my writing and the stupid Server Error erased it...I did NOT copy and paste.

I don't know if I have the heart to go back and rewrite it. :(
Click to expand...

Wow that really sucks. I know it doesn't help now, but I always do things in Notepad or Wordpad that way I have a local copy. You cant trust the interwebs.
 
A

AlteredBeast

Fork 'em, Sparky!
:( I had copied an old draft of it, but don't know if I can get it back to the same quality as when I first wanted to submit it, but we will see. I will work on it when I get home from work.
 
C

Cyan

Banned
AlteredBeast said:
Shit...I just posted my writing and the stupid Server Error erased it...I did NOT copy and paste.

I don't know if I have the heart to go back and rewrite it. :(
Click to expand...
Damn. I hate when that happens. I've done the same thing--frustrating as hell.

Have faith! You can make it just as good again, if not better!
 
2

2DMention

Banned
I might be able to come up with something on this one, but GTA4 and Mario Kart beckon me this week!

Maybe next week.
 
L

LordMaji

Member
Alright, considering I have a few days this time and this weekend w/ nothing much to do (excluding my daughters cheer leading comp on sat) I will be able to sit and type something out. Hopefully it'll work out this time.

I still have to submit my song to the gaf compilation tonight. ack!
 
N

nitewulf

Member
word count: 934

Protected

Amparo waited quietly behind the heavy, wooden doors of the master bedroom. Silent. It was cool upstairs. The thick sun-burnt brick walls kept the heat out. The large, west-facing windows were draped with heavy curtains that danced intermittently with the soft breeze.

Her tiny body was stiff, tremors ran through it as the thought of that big, ugly, monster laying on top of her mother ran through her mind. With each creaking noise of the bed downstairs she gritted her teeth tighter. The monster locked the doors from the inside after that first time.

Amparo liked to think of her father at times like these. The way she used to run to him as he walked back home after work. Sweaty. The way his face used to light up as he used to sweep her up and twirl her in the air.

She missed that smell. Very familiar. My little angel, he used to say. Finally putting her down and conjuring up some sugary confections from his pockets. Like magic. She’d take the candy, kiss his sweaty cheek and run off to play with her friends.

Then suddenly he got sick and died. The big, giant of a man just shriveled up within a few months. He laid in that decrepit, old, hospital bed and just stared out the window. Day after day. Amparo by the bedside, holding his hand tightly, not wanting to let go. He’d try to squeeze back, with no strength left in those long, bony fingers.

“Amparo, I’ll always be up there, looking out for you and your mother. Don’t you ever forget that.”

She replied back with a few salty teardrops that ran down her cheeks, the drops were warm on their dry hands.

“When you were born, you had a very weak heart Amparo. They didn’t think you’d live. I stayed by the tiny hospital bed every night and your mother prayed for you every waking hour. Then suddenly your tiny heart started beating regularly, and we knew our prayers were heard. You are a miracle. So we named you Amparo, because you are protected, by god. God watches over you. Don’t forget that when I’m gone angel.”

That was six months ago.

One night, four months after Raul passed away, as Amparo lay in bed next to her mother, in her bosom, like a little bird who wasn’t ready to fly yet, the big, ugly landlord stumbled in.

In the dark he was a monster from the fairy tales. He reeked of alcohol.

“Doña Vazquez, you’re two months behind on the rent. I’ll take what’s coming to me one way or another.”

He was unreal in the yellow light that seeped in from the hallway. A nightmare creature with yellow teeth that Amparo wished away like a fairy tale princess.

“Give me a few more days Señor, with Raul gone, I’m working day and night to pay for my daughter’s school and I sold all my jewelry to pay the rent so far. Just give me a few weeks, I’ll pay you bit by bit, even if I have to work like a dog. I’ll pay you I swear.”

He was quite real though. He licked his lips and looked at Amparo, then back at her mother.

“Your daughter is growing up quite nicely Maribel. In a few years she’ll be like one of the actresses you see in the movies.”

“You take your eyes off her you filthy bastard.”

“You owe me Maribel, and no one owes me and gets away without paying. No one in this town will protect you from me. I won’t wait, Doña Vazquez. I’ll take my payment tonight.”

Amparo was frozen, as if she was one of the statues from the courtyard. She wished, and wished and wished to wake up from the nightmare.

No.

“Amparo, my morning sunshine. Go. Run away, run away my heart.”

And she ran, ran, ran. Through the courtyard, through the cobbled narrow streets, guided by moonlight, all the way to her schoolyard. There she sat unable to move, unable to go back and kill that monster. Unable to do anything as her mother was raped. There she sat, till morning.

It went on like that every weekend, for the past two months. They couldn’t go anywhere. None of their relatives could afford to take them in. The monster owned most of the tiny town and no one would stand in his way. No one could hear her mother as she cried herself to sleep every night, holding Amparo as tight as she could. They couldn’t run away anywhere. Her mother didn’t speak much anymore. But she said, “Amparo, make sure you do good in school, you have to be somebody so you could go away from this place. Forever.”

No more.

Amparo knew god was protecting her, and she would protect her mother. She quivered as she waited in the dark. She couldn’t control the tremors. A hot wind blew outside, wailing through the streets like a dazed siren. The type of wind that blew during hot, summer nights and drove people crazy. Mad wind they called it. It spoke to her. Amparo knew her father was watching her from above. She had to be brave. The wind stopped blowing. All was quiet now. Amparo stopped shivering.

The stairs creaked. He was coming. Amparo became absolutely still and held the knife closer to her tiny breasts. And she waited.
 
A

AlteredBeast

Fork 'em, Sparky!
Wow, my writing has really taken a turn for the dark...

I need to do some cleanup on it, but hope to post it tomorrow. :)

EDIT - Great story nitewulf. :) Enthralling!
 
C

Cyan

Banned
Man, I still haven't even started on mine. Been sick the last few days. :( I'll have to do it this weekend.
 
C

Cyan

Banned
Wow, we're headed for a record low in numbers of submissions. Are people getting tired of these challenges, or just writing slowly this time around?
 
S

Scribble

Member
I don't know...maybe it's because people know they've got until Wednesday, which seems a long way. I think we'll get plenty of submissions tomorrow and last minute.

My problem is that I've got half a story done, and I'm not entirely sure where it should go. I may be thinking about it a tad too much.
 
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