The ravens cawed and hovered above. “It’s just rubble, piles and piles of destruction,” Mother said “how do you know when there’s somebody, anybody alive and still breathing under all this?” Continue reading Below the Destruction – Life.
On a new and unexpected diet, unexpected because this sudden change was unplanned, I stopped eating red meat.
Backtrack: I married an ex-butcher.
Backtrack: That sounded like the title of a horror flick.
“I just wanna sl-zzzz” said the insomniac.
Lucy was in a semi-permanent state of self-medication. But she had goals. Lucy had dreams and aspirations. She knew she was placed on this earth for something big, something major. She wanted and yearned a fully and complete state of self-medication.
Semi was just not good enough.
Lucy read the stories, and watched the movies. Unlike the others, she didn’t start with squirrels or neighborhood cats. This little girl did not waste time. She wanted to touch real flesh, she needed to be up close to actually watch the pupils dilated with fear and witness the sweat glands working in overtime. Most cringed the acid smell of fear in others, she wished it could be bottled and sold.
Eau de Frisson.
She liked to imagine a bottle in the shape of a claw. Something mid-evil like. A gargoyle-shaped bottle of perfume.
Lucy’s medication of choice was complicated. She debated on if it was the actual fear of death in others, or the sensation of a fading heartbeat in her tiny little hands when she wrapped them around a stranger’s neck. She was addicted to feeling the sweat, she was addicted to the smells and the exhilarated sensation she got afterwards when she simply skipped away.
On most days she felt like she could leap upon tall buildings, such was the power she got.
“Oh dear, another mysterious death. The police are saying we may have a serial killer on our hands.” Said Lucy’s mother to her father as she folded the newspaper throwing looks of concern towards their daughter. Lucy pretended not to hear her parents’ whispers at the kitchen table while she played with Malibu Barbie, humming to herself.
They armed her with a multi-use swiss army knife, the one for campers with a small wood saw “Just for your Girl Scouts expeditions” they said. Lucy kept that knife neatly tucked away in its holder on her belt and wore it to school, wore it to church, wore it to bed…
She scratched a little notch in its shiny red plate each time she used it. She knew that one day, the red paint would no longer be seen.
This week’s prompt is a line pulled from Katy’s story: In a semi-permanent state of self-medication. The image is licensed under the Creative Commons attribution. It was taken by Florian Siebeck.
Frisson translates to “shiver”.