“Blink”
By
Sarang

I wore a dark-green cocktail dress which emphasized the feminine curves which I was developing. My father wore an angry expression; angry that my Mother and Emma had practically forced him to be there, angry at me for the way I looked and acted, angry at Gloria, who he didn’t like, and otherwise just plain angry.

I have a love/hate relationship with my yearbook.
On page forty eight of the Sentinel High School yearbook, in big bold letters, beneath my senior picture, it says: Monica Preston: Most likely to Succeed.

The Big Day

Saturday morning everyone was buzzing with excitement as they returned from their morning run. On Saturday the run was not required but most of the girls continued with their normal daily routine anyway. To say that everyone was highly motivated to keep their bodies healthy would have been an understatement. Having grown older and much too heavy the first time around Kelli had no desire to repeat the experience. With all of the high calorie foods that would be easily available today she wanted to be able to sample them without feeling guilty.

Other people wear dresses too !!!!!

There’s some surprises in life that you don’t expect. And other surprises that you really don’t want. I thought I was alone. No – I knew I was alone, I knew that there was nobody else exactly like me. Nobody who thought like I did or did what I did. Nobody. How could there be?

Here’s a nicer story. Less harsh, less uncomfortable than ‘Hate, Hell, Hope’. That had some good ideas but quite reasonably vote-wise readers don’t like nasty pieces (or, it seems, multi-parts).

The next chapter, where we learn that cabin fever can lead to bad things. Please enjoy.

Copyright Nagrij, 2017.

I punched the speed dial on my Mobile.
It was a Friday afternoon in early March and I needed some entertainment.

“Hello Jen. What’s up? Your Boss still trying to feel you up then?”

“Hi Kylie. No. He’s not. I’ve threatened to tell his wife if he tries it again.”

They both laughed.

“As it’s the last Friday of the month and I’m assuming that you’ve been paid so how about some fun tonight?”

“I don’t know Jen,” she said with a big Sigh.

“Come on K. It’s been nearly nine months now.”

“BOOM!” Goes the snub nose revolver I test fired making my ears ring. The smell of gunpowder permutated from the gun. I never shot a revolver before, but this is the first and last day I fire one. My body was jittering as I pull back the hammer of the revolver.

I walk into my garage. I was dark and warm. A nice place to end it all. I sit down in a chair and put the revolver in my mouth. I slide my thumb in the trigger guard. I close my eyes and slowly squeeze the trigger.

I tried to take my 'grounding' with grace. I tried to think of myself not as a prisoner of my hotel – which seemed to be crawling with security people... I wasn't sure whether they were from our corporate parent, the local authorities or the hotel's management, none of whom I presumed, would want a violent tragedy associated with their brands. I tried to pretend we were 'ultra-VIPs', so important that the world came to us and we merely 'held court'. That was how I tried to frame this, to keep myself from going stir crazy. It wasn't terribly effective.