(Author’s note: So, a lot of stuff happened in the last month that’s caused me to lose focus. Being in a shared house provides responsibilities that one has to take seriously. So now that I’m on a vacation from work, and just resting up, I’m back to getting in the swing of it. So, for the last post of 2021… enjoy!)
Get To You
by Miles H. Rost
A historic hotel in a sea of skyscrapers was not where Mitch wanted to be.
Making the most of a family reunion trip, however, it was better than nothing. It was also free, which helped numb some of the sting.
Mitch walked out to the street. As he reached the curb, the slippery ground gave out from under him.
*THWACK*
Within seconds, he was stunned and couldn’t breathe. After a few more seconds, he was staring into the eyes of a passing nurse with the most stunning maize-colored hair.
“Dinner?” he croaked out.
“Breathe first, dinner after,” she replied, smugly.
It was supposed to be a fun filled weekend of paintball and male bonding for the 50 men from Woodbridge Manufacturing. All expenses paid by the company.
It turned into a fight for survival.
In a swamp, close to the cabin, two clumps off reeds stood among old broken tree stumps. Terry and Gonzalo peered through the reeds, fear covering their face.
“I didn’t sign up for this!”
“Quiero ir a casa con mi esposa.”
“I understand that, mi amigo.”
They both held their paintball guns up, looking around for their predator. A rustling made Terry jump.
“GYAH”
*boom*
“OW! I’ve been SHOT! This does NOT HAPPEN to me!”
Terry turned around to find his boss, the expert paintballer, on the ground. A big red stain covered his chest. His eyes went wide. Gonzalo shook his head.
Author’s note: I hope everyone is doing alright. I’ve been in a real big funk when it comes to writing new stuff, mostly due to the fact that my school writing has been taking up most of my time. However, I am planning on putting up a bunch of stuff over the next week as I have a mid-semester break coming up. Whether it gets posted or not, that’s a different story. But we shall see.
Also, there were some questions about last week’s story. The answer It was an allegorical story that was related to a slate of issues on college campuses in America, where men and even some women have been accused of rape. They get taken through tribunals on campus instead of through the legal/police process. It ruins their lives, and indirectly, all parties’ lives. So for those who were curious, now you know…the rest of the story. (RIP Paul Harvey)
The young lady was pulled back from the railing, the man holding her back against him.
“You’re going to be fine,” he whispered, clutching the crying woman as she let all her misery out.
He didn’t plan to be there. He was just driving, and there was someone where he was just a few months ago.
He just held her close when he heard a loud bang.
He turned around, and saw the bright lights of another car bearing down upon him. She looked up and screamed.
He pushed her away, seconds before the car hit him, carrying him over the side.
She screamed in horror as she heard nothing but the sound of the car hitting the water.
She sat, screaming and shaking as the ambulances approached.
Brian Charles looked up at the second-floor bedroom window of his ex-girlfriend’s house.
“Shandie! C’mon! We need to talk!”
No answer came.
“Shandie, if we talk this out, you won’t have to see me again. I just need to get this out.”
After a few moments, “Shandie” came to the window. A beautiful redhead with long hair, she wore the mean look of an Irish lass.
“You got me here, Brian! Spill!”
Brian looked up at her with eyes that were near overflowing to tears. This was a man with a mission whose heart seemed to be ready to pop things open.
“Do you want to know why I did not make it to the hospital to pick you up?”
“Does it involve some lame excuse? If so, I don’t want to know!”
“This is the problem, Shandie! You won’t listen to what happened! If you were willing to take a second and actually hear what happened and look at the report in my hand, you’ll know that there was a very good reason why I was not there.”
“I’ve seen you do this before, Brian! You did it to Elena before you met me! You did it to Raisa! And now you’re doing it to me! I don’t want to hear it!”
Shandie stopped smirking. As his loud sobs resonated through the neighborhood, she slowly walked back and picked up the paper. She looked at it, a police report. She noticed the time and the date, the location, and what had happened. It was as though everything she had thought about started to crack right at that moment.
She looked down at him, and those cracks in her mind got larger, and more spidery.
“Brian,” she said, a bit softer, “I…I think I need to hear what you have to say after all.”
Brian choked out the story in between tears, about how he was running late due to a long line at the local Target store. He tried to use a shortcut, but it was blocked by a creek that was flooding due to an ice jam. He drove down a hill and lost control of his vehicle as it slid downhill. He cried as he recounted the old man who just entered the roadway just at the moment he reached the bottom of the hill, and how he went through his windshield, and how Brian went unconscious after the car came to a rest in a yard.
“I…” she mumbled, “I remembered what you did before, with all these fantasy stories with your past girlfriends. I thought that it was just the same thing.”
Brian sniffled, and looked at her with a sorrowful but hateful glare.
“You thought wrong,” he said, his voice calming down, “You’ve always jumped to conclusions about things. Even after we started dating. And now, after today, I don’t want think about you ever again. Not after what you have done.”
Shandie did not know what she could do. She wanted to run down there and comfort him, but she also knew that she couldn’t. He was right, she didn’t listen. And it cost her a relationship.
“Brian, I am….I am sorry.”
Brian just turned around and started to walk out of the yard. He cleared his conscience, she got an explanation, and he found out just how it was to truly end a relationship with honesty. He looked back up at her one last time, and called back.
Music and Fiction 