Memories

She reached up for my fingers, her tiny little hand fit perfectly in my palm.  I looked down at this beautiful creation.  Her long brown hair was straight and stopped just at her shoulders.  Those amazing green eyes stared up at me, begging for knowledge.

“Daddy, I love you!”  A smile formed on my lips.  Hearing those words from this perfect tiny being, this little human I created with my wife made my heart skip a beat.

“I love you too kiddo.”  I grabbed both her hands and started twirling her in a circle.  Her feet lifted off the ground and her laughter was like a sweet melody that danced across the wind.

I slowed down only to allow her feet to graze the grass before they lifted off again. Just as we had lift off I looked up and noticed her mother staring at us both with that look in her eyes.  The look she got when she first saw me holding our daughter.

She smiled. “Are you two ready?”

I stopped twirling in a circle and tossed our little girl on my shoulders. I started to walk back towards the house.

“As ready as we can be sweetheart.” I smiled and stopped dead in my tracks, because there in front of me stood the perfect woman.  She had a passion, a fire about her that I have failed to find in anyone else. 

Her slender body leaned against the doorframe.  Her arms were crossed not in a defensive manner but a relaxed pose.  The skinny jeans she wore hugged her hips and legs perfectly.  Her worn brown converse shoes were tattered but she always said it is what gives them character.  Her eyes were a stunning grey but she loved to fight me that they were blue.  Her hair flowed down her back and rested at her waistline. My heart skipped a beat every time I laid eyes on her.

I walked over to her, pulled the precious cargo off my shoulders and sent her in to the house to get her coat.  I place my hand on the doorframe and leaned into this amazing woman. I gently pressed my lips to hers.  She wrapped her arms around my neck and melted into me.  I placed my hand on the small of her back and pulled her as close as I could get her. 

“Mommy, Daddy I can’t find my coat.” We both giggled and looked down at our little girl.

She pulled away from me. “Come sweetie, lets go check in your toy box.”

I watched the two most important women in my life walk upstairs.  A few minutes later I got a tug on my pants.

“Daddy look, mommy found my coat.” She hugged my leg and ran out the door.

I chased her to the door; she bolted down the stairs and skipped across the yard.  She started singing to herself.

“Daddy, Daddy come push me.” She hopped on the swing and stared at me with her big green eyes and a huge grin on her face.

I jogged over and grabbed the chains that held the swing above the ground; I pulled her back and let her go.  She started laughing.  Her tiny fragile body cut through the air like a hot knife to butter.

“Daddy look at me.” She started pumping her legs out of rhythm.  Her purple converse shoes were untied and her shoelaces were slapping her legs.

“I see you pumpkin, Good Job!”

The sun illuminated her hair brining out the streaks of natural red as her hair flowed through the breeze.

In one fluid motion she jumped from the swing, ran up and slapped me on the leg.

“What was that for?” I stared down at her with a glare of disapproval.

“Your it daddy.” She turned and ran as fast as I have ever seen her run.  She ran past the play equipment and was headed straight for the street.

“STOP Baby, STOP!” I was screaming at the top of my lungs.

“I can’t stop the baby is coming no matter what.”

“Just hold her in for a few more minutes were almost there.” Her breathing was more labored, and the thought that this was it made my heart race faster then ever.

I pulled into the maternity ward parking lot. I stopped right in front of the door, jumped out to help my wife out of the car. God she is amazing carrying life inside of her and yet she still manages to take my breath away.

I got her inside and they took her straight to a room.  She got changed and was trying to get comfortable when they walked in with a huge needle.  I got the privilege of holding her as they got the epidural in place.

Not even ten minutes later she started pushing.  I stood right by her head and brushed away matted hair off her forehead.  She screamed in pain.

“Two more pushes and she will be here, hang in there sweetie.”

She looked up at me and smiled, I gently kissed her forehead.  She took a deep breath and one hard final push my daughter; my baby girl was brought into this world.

She came out letting the world know she was here.  How could something that tiny be so loud?  They placed the carefully wrapped bundle on my wife’s chest.  Tears began to flow as I watched for the first time my wife and baby girl together.

“Here, hold her, hold your daughter.” My wife extended her arms holding the cargo.  I gently slipped my arms in and swooped up this precious gift from God.

She opened her eyes, and stared up at me.  For that split moment I never thought I could love someone so much in such a quick time.  I pulled her head close to mine and kissed her little flushed cheek.

“Daddy loves you kiddo, now and forever.” I looked down at her tiny doll like face and at that moment she smiled at me.  My heart melted into goo and I knew she had me wrapped around those tiny little fingers.

Two days later I was loading my women up in the car.  It was a dream come true healthy wife, healthy baby girl.  My wife insisted that she sat in the back for babies first ride.

“Everyone set?” I looked back as my wife buckled her seatbelt and gave me a thumbs up.

We made it out of the parking lot and to the first red light, it turned green and I started to go when I heard the screeching of tires.

She was paddling her bike as fast as she could.  Her bike flopped from side to side as her training wheels did their job.

She looked back at me. “Daddy I am doing it on my own!”  I started laughing as I watched her little pink princess helmet bob from side to side.

I ran and caught of with her. I could hear she was out of breath.  It was hard work for a little girl.

“Are you ready for a break princess?” 

“NO!” She screamed at the top of her lungs, and looked back at me.

“Watch Out!” As she turned the corner her bike slammed into the car and flipped her bike over.  She lay there for a second before she got up.

“I am sorry Daddy.” She tucked her head down, and started crying. Huge tears rolled down her cheeks.  She turned and bolted down the driveway before I could say anything.

I saw the car coming out of the corner of my eye; it was driving way to fast.  I screamed for her and started to run towards her.  She stopped in the middle of street and stared at me.

“I said I was sorry daddy, please don’t be angry with me.” She held her hand out towards me for acceptance, for forgiveness.

I reached out to grab her only to feel cold steel brush my fingertips.  I could hear the crack of my little girl’s bones as she hit the front of the car.  The tires came to a screeching halt.  I looked up and in that split moment I watched my baby girls body fly into the air and hit the ground with a deafening thud.  My heart stopped beating as I ran to her side.  I scooped her up and wiped her hair from her face.  I held her tightly to my chest.  I could feel her heartbeat slow.  The tears poured from my eyes.

Her green eyes that were full of life was draining right in front of me.  Blood was pouring from her nose.  I wiped it away gently.

“It is okay kiddo, daddy is here.”  I started to rock her slowly; I stared up at the dark clouds that began to form overhead.  The clouds opened up and the rain began to pour. It was like God himself was crying for me.  Why? Why my little girl?  I then heard this tiny voice, the sweet melody I thought I would never hear again.

“Daddy I am sorry, please don’t be angry with me.” Her tiny body went limp in my arms.  I pulled her close to my chest.

I leaned down and kissed her rosy cheek for the last time and whispered in her ear. “Daddy loves you now and forever.” 

I could hear the sirens, as they got closer.

She popped through the doorway of my office.  She was all decked out in her fairy wings and tutu.

“WOOOO, WOOOO, look daddy I am a fire engine.”  She spread her arms and ran around my desk making her siren noise.  I started laughing and scooped her up in my arms.

“Time for bed kiddo.”

“Aww, but daddy can I play for just a few minutes longer?”  She batted her long eyelashes at me.

“No, sweetie, we have a big day ahead of us, we need our rest.”

She sighed “Fine I will go to bed, if you read me a story.”

“Of course.” I grinned, I flew her upstairs and into her bed, removed her wings and tutu and hung them on the bedpost.  I tucked her in, layed down with her and read her a story.

The next morning I awoke on my stomach.  I could feel this weight on back.  Then the tickle of hair on my cheek, little fingers tapping my shoulder.  I turned my head to see my daughter staring at me with tears pouring from her eyes.

“What’s wrong pumpkin?”

“Daddy, I have been watching you day after day.  I can see the memories you play in your head.  I can feel the pain and see your tears.”  My heart sank.  I kept the memories of my daughter close to my heart.  She was my life, every time I hear a siren, screeching tires, laughter of another child, I think of her.  Her bright green eyes how she was full of life.  How in a split moment it was taken away. 

She kissed my cheek. “Daddy, I am okay now, please don’t cry for me anymore. Mommy needs you and so does my baby brother.”

I looked at her with a puzzled look. “You don’t have a baby brother honey.”

She took my face in her little hands.  “Yes I do daddy, he is in mommies tummy.” She pointed at my wife laying next to me. “I love you so much daddy, its time you let me go.”

“I love you too kiddo, and always will.”  The weight was gone, and I woke up and sat straight up in bed.  My cheek was still wet.  I looked over at my wife who was sleeping next to me.  I leaned over and kissed her stomach.  The pain was lifted, and new hope began to grow.

Hang tight

Hang tight i am working on a new piece as we speak, just taking little bit longer then expected with the kids, and whatnot.  i hope you all stick around!

Thank you
Bable

A Thirst To Kill

“Skinny Vanilla Latte’.”

“What size?” The barista patiently waited for me to reply.

“Tall.”

“What is your name?”

My name? I thought for a moment.  I could give them my real name, or I could go with something a little more exotic then Samantha. Plus I don’t want my name tied to a possible blood bath.

“Lexus.” I smiled and walked away, waiting for that hot cup of pick me up.

I sat down and started to survey the room. I was to choose my next victim from this ses pool of people? I really wish I could go somewhere with more to pick from, it looks like a redneck convention was let out, but I cant be picky I have to stay as low key as possible I was almost caught last time.

There were a few tables with chairs that littered the corner of the coffee shop, a few lounge chairs and an oversized green couch that took up one wall.

The first person I noticed was an older man in a tie-dye shirt, he had one of those aussie style hats you know the ones with the string that goes under the chin, the corners were bent down. His old brown slip on sandals made me laugh. On his left wrist he wore a black leather watch, that’s when I noticed that shiny bit of silver on his ring finger. Blah, married.  I’ll pass.

Behind him and to the left was a heavyset woman; she had short 50 style bangs. She was one of those women who do not own a mirror.  She had blue fingernail polish dark rimmed glasses, and large disk hoop earrings. She wore a spaghetti strap white dingy shirt with no bra, which I am 100 percent sure she needed, she had a short flower skirt to match.  To top off her mess of a look she wore blue converse shoes. She was prime pick if it wasn’t for the sandwich she was shoving in her face, which would not have been bad but a bit of the cheese lingered on her lip which was not appealing to me at all. She reminded me of a pig eating slop.

I turned sideways in my seat and noticed two older women sipping on there cold iced tea. Once mentioned something about a train in a book she had picked up. The woman on the right was sporting a purple shirt; she was rather large and had on these tight black shorts.  She wore white running shoes and her hair was a dirty blonde, her friend was dressed in a black shirt, she was large but not as large as the first, she had on what my grandma use to call pedal pusher jeans, black clog flip flops, he hair seemed to be more maintained then the other woman’s it was a dark brown with a hint of blonde and red streaks through it. One smack with a hammer to the back of the head, and her boring train story would be over. I think everyone in here would thank me.

Out of the corner of my eye, closer to the counter on the couch was a small child that looked to be watching a movie on her mothers laptop, she had dirty blonde hair was wearing a white shirt with cut of jean shorts and white runners. Her mother was sipping coffee and was pouring over a stack of books in front of her.  If I got pleasure out of killing children I would have to say she would be prime target she was not being watched and the mom was oblivious to anyone around her.

Before I finished surveying the room she walked in.

She wore a long black dress that snuggly fit her body, black flip-flops, large black glasses that hid her brown eyes. Long bleach blonde hair that was dyed black underneath.  Her hips swayed as she made her way to the counter.  She was the one the one I wanted. The one I needed to carry out my plan, this dark part of me that screamed and clawed inside of me begging to be released.  My eyes followed her as she rounded the corner and made her way into the three-stalled bathroom.  I slowly got up and grabbed my bag hoping that no one was watching me as intently as I was watching them.

I slowly pushed my the bathroom door open with my foot keeping my eye on the people to see if anyone else was to get up and follow us into my work station.  As I turned the door slowly closed behind me I reached over and grabbed a brown wedge and shoved it under the door.

There she was standing in from of the mirror admiring herself, she better take it all in, because in a few moments those eyes will no longer be full of life. I pulled out a white cloth from my bag and walked up behind her, and quickly placed it over her mouth and nose. I took the knife I carried in my pocket and slowly eased it into her left side.  I could smell the iron from her blood dance across my nose, taunting me with more of what was to come.  The warm blood trickled down my hand it splattered onto the ground.

She went limp; I layed her down and watched her chest move up and down. I lowered my head onto her breasts I could hear her heart beating as if daring me to make it stop.

I reached over and grabbed my black bag, my heart started to race.  The demon inside of me was being fed, and man did he have thirsts.

 I stopped for only a moment to study her, to take in everything I could about my kill.  Her face was oval, she had a small upturned nose, and her eyes were honey brown, long, full, black eyelashes layed tranquilly on her cheeks. She was slender, on the verge of too skinny.

I grinned and went back to digging in my bag; I pulled out a pair of black gloves, the slipped right on, using the blood from my hands as lubricant. I grabbed the knife I used earlier, and slowly started to push it into the right side of her chest.  Now with every breath bubbles escaped the wound.  The hot liquid of life pooled out of her.  I eased the knife out of her chest. 

The demon was getting excited as death was near.  I could feel the hotness of my own blood rush through my veins. It was like liquid fire that made my black heart pump wrathfully. 

I got up and straddled her, one knee on either side of her body, her breath was far and few between, I placed my ear to her mouth, I want to take in her last ticks of life, to feel her hot breath against my skin as she nourished my demon.

  With my ear closely pressed against her red full lips, a small whisper escaped her it rang through my ear, Tall Skinny Vanilla Latte’, astonished I leapt from her lifeless body.

Then again with more force, I heard. “Tall, Skinny Vanilla Late for Lexus’” My mind suddenly snapped back to reality, I got up out of my chair to retrieve my hot cup of pick me up!

Baseball

I hold the red and white sphere in my hands, the smooth leather pressing against my palm; my fingertips graze the red stitching. I tossed it in the air just to hear the ball smack into my leather glove.

I take my position, not a base, nor pitcher but the openness and remarkable view of centerfield.  The smell of the fresh cut grass dances with my senses, the wet clippings stick to my cleats. 

I turn and face the infield; I adjust my baseball cap to protect my eyes from the contemptuous sun, a bead of sweat escapes from underneath my cap and rolls off my nose.

“Batter Up” The short, stubby umpire pulls down his facemask. 

The first batter steps into the box, the pitcher rolls the ball around in his hand and with his arm extended, his leg gracefully cuts through the air, the first pitch was released.

The ball grazed the bat only to tip it into the air, the catcher held out his mitt and like a magnetic force the ball falls into his glove.

“OUT”! The stubby man screams.

One down two to go, I take my stance as the next batter makes his way to the box, the ball is released and the bat makes contact sending the ball up into the air and into centerfield.  I look up calculating what path the ball is going to take, smack, into my glove it goes.  I throw the ball back to the pitcher. 

Two down one to go. The third batter hits the ball sending it down third base, giving him enough time to take his place on first.  I punch my glove.

The next batter hits a liner to short stop, the sound of the ball hitting the leather sent a chill of excitement down my spine. That was our third out, our turn to put up the numbers.

I grabbed the bat twisting the handle in my hands, I take a swing, the air rushing over the barrel of the bat was like music to my ears.  I stepped up to the plate.

The pitcher stared me down. He pulled his arm back and released the ball; I had to wait for that right second, that perfect moment where the ball hits the sweet spot, sending it flying into the outfield.

CRACK, like thunder the ball connected with my wooden bat, the ball went flying out in left field. I dropped the bat and took off down the baseline, my cleats digging into the hard ground sending dirt and chalk into the air.  I round first only to be met by a ball getting sent to my next destination, I kicked my right leg out and pulled my body down as my foot hit the second base.

“SAFE!” I stood up and dusted the dirt of my shirt and pants.  My right leg on the base and my left leg leading me to third, I stood there waiting for the pitch.  The pitcher pulled his arm behind his back and looked at me. 

His arm extended and the moment the ball left his fingertips I took off for third. I could hear the ball and bat connect, as I hit third, I turned for a split second to the see ball in mid air to first.

 I rounded third. All I had to do was run 89 feet and I would be home.  I tucked my head down and sprinted as fast as I could.  The opposing crowd was screaming home, home, throw home.

I did the mistake of diving for home plate, my hand connected with the white rubber, the deafening crack of bones breaking echoed through my ears as the catcher’s cleats dug into my batting glove.  The pain shot up my arm, I tucked my arm in and rolled onto my back rolling over home plate.

“SAFE”! Holding my left hand close to my torso I got up and made my way to the dugout. I was rushed to the emergency to room only to be told it was broken, my heart sank, the season had just started and I was officially out!

My glove now sits under my bed collecting dust.  Whenever I smell leather, or smell fresh cut grass, it sparks old memories of the game I grew to love and respect!

Waiting

The skies grow darker, darker then the blackness that engulfs her empty soul.

She peers down at her fingers, slowly tracing in her mind where his soft, warm hand molded with hers.

Her eyes slowly gaze into the night feeling an icy breeze dance across her exposed skin.

Like molases she closes her hand slowly around the ring he so carefully placed on her finger.

A single tear rolls down her cold cheek, the salty drop makes its way to her soft wanting lips.

Her eyes close tightly remembering the way his lips tasted. The way his hand fit perfectly against her cheek, how her body melted into his.

She screams for him, only to get deafening silence in return.

She pulls her legs to her chest and weeps as her heart breaks in two, waiting for him to return to her.