31 Day Writing Challenge #2: Day 15 - 'A Priest Walks Into...'

Father Adrian Fallon walked into the great hall, his confusion evident as he took in the grand ceiling, as well as the scorch marks that scarred the floor and bottom four feet of the walls and columns. This wasn't right. This wasn't where he was meant to go.

"Thought you'd end up somewhere else?" Father Fallon's gaze followed the voice to a raised altar and a tall, lean man draped across a large throne. An entertained smirk played on the man's lips.

"Who are you?" The priest demanded, feigning confidence. The man's smirk widened.

"Oh, I think you know exactly who I am. You just don't want to admit it because of what it would means."

"But I'm a priest. I have served the Lord for decades. I do not belong here."

"Yes, You do. You belong here. Well, not here exactly, we have a place reserved for people like you."

"I do not belong here. I have earned my rightful place." 

"You earned your placed HERE." The man's smirk disappeared and made way for an angry scowl. He had stood up from the throne and was bearing down on the priest. "Every penny you took from collection; every choir boy you touched; every trust you violated, earned you your fate. You paved your way here."

"I repented for my sins, I was forgiven."

"No. You weren't. Not by Him and definitely not by me. You think because a book written by mortals says it'll work, that it will?"

"On Earth as it is in Heaven." Father Fallon countered.

"Nope. Wrong again. No mortal, not even the clergy, decides what God does. And the Lord does not play by your rules. Now you, you committed heinous sins agains the Lord's children and have been judged on them. We both know how Father loves his children."

"He wouldn't abandon me."

The man chuckled.

"He hasn't abandoned you, he has sent you to me to be taken care of. I'll see you're treated exactly as you deserve." A devilish glint danced in his eye. "And you should know, I take special care of those who harm kids. It's a particular thing I despise."

"But you are the Devil, You are pure evil."

"I'm an angel. Fallen, but still an angel. And, I am not evil, just exceptional at punishing it."

With those words, the flames engulfed the room and Father Adrian Fallon was sent to Hell. 

31 Day Writing Challenge #2: Day 14 - 'He Clenched His Fist...'

He clenched his fist, frustrated, he started pacing but after five seconds, he banged the side of fingers and his forearms against the window and just leaned there, helpless.

He knew he'd lost control; the window was freezing over; the once warm air was now decidedly chilly. The cold air surrounded him. He didn't care, he didn't rein in his power. Then he saw her shiver in her sleep. Through the rapidly freezing window, he saw her stir and wake up. Then she was gone, the frost so thick that the window was useless. T.J. was about to draw the cold back when he was handprints appear from the other side of the glass. Then they were gone, replaced moments later by imprints made by someone leaning their back against the window. Even her arms were pushed against the cold. It was like she needed as much skin to feel the frost as possible. That wasn't like her. Amber didn't over-heat. Ever. Her power meant she couldn't.

They had always been a couple of contradictions: both individually and together. Amber's power was heat; his was cold. Their personalities opposed each other and their own powers. Amber was level-headed and calm. Cool and collected. T.J. was the hot-head, the fiery one with hands of ice. But they worked, you couldn't have one without the other. Cold and hot, T.J. and Amber. It just made sense.

But then Amber had announced she was taking part in a medical trial to suppress her power. She wouldn't be able to use it - even if she lost control. She'd been in the clinic for weeks and was getting sicker by the day. The coughing and nightly nose-bleeds came first. She could deal with them, had been able to go on with daily life. Then her body temperature went haywire. She was always an ice-block or an inferno. It made sense, her power and body temperature were directly linked. Her power caused her to always be warmer than everyone else and automatically regulated her body so that intense heat or cold didn't get to her. But now, even heat bothered her. That wasn't right.

Well, if his girl needed cooled down, that was easy done. T.J. directed his power towards Amber, swirling the cold around her. He saw her body relax in relief and heard her giggle.

He'd missed that sound. He hadn't heard it in so long, not since before they had stopped letting him into her room.

31 Day Writing Challenge #2: Day 13 - 'Dear Anna'

Dear Anna,

You have it all now. Everything you wanted. Every single thing you coveted of mine, you now have. You are married to my handsome, charming husband; you are living in my dream house with the big bedrooms and cozy reading nooks; you are raising my three beautiful children and are living my idyllic life.

Is it everything you hoped for, dear Anna?

Or has the bubble burst, oh dear, sweet, Anna? You aren't the hot, forbidden girlfriend anymore, you are the every day wife. Do you spend more time tearing off his clothes or picking them up? Does he spend more time whispering sweet nothings in your ear or mumbling under his breath? Has he asked you to make his grandmother's cake? And then complained that it doesn't taste right? Are you sick of socks on the floor? Or are you too busy being ravished to care? Are my kids the little angels you always thought they'd be? Or have they turned out to be human, after all? Do they remind you a little too much of me? Is the fact you are just 'step-mum' a bigger deal than you thought? Have they let you in the way you hoped they would? Are you both equal parents or does he get the final say?

Have his views on how you dress changed? Has he told you how his wife should look? Has he made it clear who and how you should be? If he hasn't, he soon will. If you want a happy husband and a long marriage, bow to his every whim and swallow your pride (amongst other things). Don't do what I did, and stand up for yourself and on your own two feet. I was strong enough to fight for me, maybe you wont make the same mistake.

But tell me, dear Anna, are you happy now?

31 Day Writing Challenge #2: Day 12 - 'Scene After Scene'

Scene after scene lay scrunched up and scattered on the carpet. Paper balls of frustration surrounding a stooped embodiment of petulance.

All he had to do was his job. All he had to do was write a screen play, like he'd done so many times before. But this time was different. This time he was writing it for her...and for him. How could he write a romance knowing it would be acted out by his girlfriend and the man she used to fuck?

They'd asked for sex scenes and a few scenes of steamy build up. Simple as that. Like he wouldn't picture that asshole's hands all over her porcelain skin every time he put pen to paper. She's fallen for that dick on the first movie they'd worked on. That thought made him uneasy. This wasn't him: jealous, possessive and angry. This wasn't the person he was.

He trusted her. Of course he did. And he was a professional. He could do this. He would do this.

Behind him the door opened, there she stood, looking at him with such concern.

"I quit the movie."  

31 Day Writing Challenge #2: Day 11 - 'I Got This.'

"I got this." Damon's arrogance oozed off him as he slid the bill towards himself. The smug flaunting of his wealth infuriated Zoey.

"No, you don't. I'm paying for what I had." Zoey countered, pulling the bill back to the middle of the table. "If you 'get this', then tonight will have been a date. And I find you repulsive and would never date you." Zoey's stoney expression was met with a smirk from Damon.

"Not too repulsive to screw."

"Hate sex, though hot, does not necessitate or imply affection or lack of disgust." Zoey was getting matter-of-fact in tone, which Damon knew meant that tonight's 'hate sex' would be extra hate-filled. Damon slammed down money for the meal and a generous tip, he wasn't about to wait for change, and walked around the table to Zoey. Looking her dead in the eye, he leaned in close and growled.

"Move. Now." When Zoey went to push him away, he grabbed her wrist with one hand and used the other to hold her chin to keep her facing him.

"You can move now, or I will start what I'm planning right here,"

Zoey knew from experience that this threat was not hollow. Despite how she disliked him, she could not seem to resist him.

"Asshole." she fired, shoving him out of her way and flounced out of the restaurant, head high and not looking at him. He paused a few seconds then followed her out, his eyes fixed on her swaying hips and the round ass he planned to have his hands on before it was properly appropriate.

31 Day Writing Challenge #2: Day 10 - 'iTunes'

"Who's idea was it to let Justin Bieber and Kanye West buy iTunes?" Daria raged as she scrolled through endless streams of self-indulgence and self-promotion of the two self-important jackwangs who had removed all music not recorded by themselves or their friends. 

"Oh look, Justin must be feeling bitter about the break up again. No Selena Gomez available." Daria rolled her eyes at the pettiness.

"Did you notice Beyonce's gone too?" Elle asked, not looking up from her magazine. "Kim must be feeling disrespected again." Elle's tone illustrating how little compassion she had for the dramatic mole hills the celebrities were turning into mountains.

"Seriously? That's the third time this month." Daria shook her head disparaging.

"Eurgh." she groaned, "There's nothing I want to download. I'll just play from my library."

"Mmmmm..." Elle wasn't really listening, so gave a lack-lustre noise of agreement.

"For fuck sake! They've deleted all the country music off my phone! Oh and look! The dickheads have recorded another collab album, and here it is, magically downloaded onto my phone. What the hell do they have against country music? Oh yeah, Swiftie."

Taylor Swift had managed to severely piss off both iTunes owners (and West's demanding other half) and thus, an entire musical genre was eradicated from the world's largest download store.

31 Day Writing Challenge: Day 9 - 'Fall'

"Just let go. All you have to do is fall. Then it will all be over. The voices wont be able to hurt you anymore."

All she had to do was open her hands and fall. He could feel her resolve to hold on to the railings, and to life, weaken. How he loved toying with mortals, especially the truly innocent. He favoured the ones destined for Heaven, that he could make sure went to Hell. They'd live pure lives only for him to consume their minds to the point they choose to take their own lives. With one act, they'd condemn themselves.

She leaned forward into the black abyss, her armed stretched behind her. This was it. Another innocent choosing their eternal damnation.

"Just let go, Be free, From pain. From the voices. Let go. It will be like falling asleep."

Her grip began to loosen and the wind made her body sway. The rain pelted her, adding to her misery and hiding her tears.

He could feel her mind trying to fight against his influence, but her survival instinct was as weak as her hold on the bridge.

"There's nothing for you to stay for. There's no one who cares for you. Look around, you're all alone. You want to do this and no one wants to stop you. You don't have to do anything, just stop holding on. All you have to do is fall."

Suddenly, her left hand lost its grip and she jolted towards the inky depths below.

"Now. Fall now."

"No!" She yelled into the darkness as her brain fought back.

31 Day Writing Challenge #2: Day 8 - 'Sunshine.'

"You know she'll never forgive you for this." Myka said gravely, doubting that her brother had really thought things through. "Sacrificing her so that you can bask in the sunshine."

Reed rolled his eyes. "It's not like she'll be around to forgive me anyway."

"Isaac will be at the ceremony. She may have chosen you, but he will still always choose her. Do you really think he will let her die? Even if you get far enough to complete the ritual and turn human, he will just turn her. She'll be a vampire and you will be mortal. So you had better enjoy your time in the sun, brother, because it will not last long."

Doubt in his genius plan flashed in Reed's eyes. "He might not get there in time. The is no guarantee that the turning to work. You know that." He sneered at his sister, taking his fear out on her. Guilt and pain etched themselves on Myka's face at her brother's cruel reminder. "I'll make sure he is stood far and his view obscured."

"If she dies, it'll be worse for you." Reed looked at Myka skeptically. "Isaac is the oldest and most powerful of us all, in both ability and standing, do you really think he would just let you go if you killed her? He loves her. If she dies, he won't rein himself in. You wont survive long enough to see the sun or feel it on your skin." 

31 Day Writing Challenge #2: Day 7 - 'Traditional'

"I swear to God, if you say 'it is traditional' one more time, I will commit murder-suicide." Layla looked back and forth between her mother and the wedding planner, daring either to not heed her warning.

"Darling, we are talking about a wedding. Your wedding. I just want it to be perfect." Her mother tried to appease her,

"Then you should have let me marry Harvey!" Layla raged. Her mother's disapproval, both at the outburst and the mention of 'that boy', radiated from her. 

"Don't look at me like that, Mother. I am doing what you wanted. I left Harvey; I am marrying the man you forced upon me; at the venue you picked. But do not expect me to be happy about it, or care about any details of the God forsaken event. I promise that I will stand on that altar, and I will smile and say my vows in an Oscar worthy performance, every inch the happy, blushing bride. But I want no part in the planning, or the traditions. I am doing everything you asked, but, please Mother, please don't ask me to be excited about marrying someone I don't love and who wont make me happy, all while my heart hurts so badly that I can barely breath. Please, plan the wedding you want, Mother, you already chose the groom. Just leave me out of it."

No one saw the man standing in the doorway.

31 Day Writing Challenge #2: Day 6 - 'Whiteboard'

Everything you said to hurt me,

Every insult that you threw.

Said with such confidence,

It was as though you really knew, 

What the voices in me head

Yelled each and every day.

But you never knew your power,

Because the words I couldn't say.

So I write them on this whiteboard,

Along with your words of hate,

So that my pain can be released,

Before it gets to be too late.

For I know all that loathing,

Can only come from within.

That it isn't me that you despise,

But your demons that wont let you win.

So I will show you kindness,

Until you face your dark side.

For on the day you realise the pain that you've caused,

My forgiveness will embrace you with arms open wide.

And I will find a way to forgive,

For the end of all this hate, is the only way I will live.

31 Day Writing Challenge #2: Day 5 - 'Terracotta Tile'

Police Officer: Miss Ellis, do you know a Mr Joseph Cook?

Mhairi:(Gingerly) Joey. It's Joey.

Police Office: OK. Joey Cook. Please state whether you know Mr Cook or not.

Mhairi: Yes, I know him. I'm his girlfriend.

Police Officer: And you witnessed the events that occurred at twenty-six Ripley Road yesterday, July eighth, which resulted in Mr Cook falling off the roof of said address and his subsequent coma

Mhairi: Yes. (Mhairi clearly trying to hold back tears.)

Police Officer: You understand that Mr Cook has been accused of climbing a tree in order to watch the sixteen year old daughter of Mr and Mrs McDonald of the previously stated address.

Mhairi: (agitated/defensive/shocked)  That's ridiculous! Joey would never...

(Mhairi stops, becomes composed. Clearly forcing herself to remain calm and co-operative.)

Mhairi: He shouldn't have been in the tree. And I get why it could look like that, especially knowing my neighbours. But that wasn't why he was in the tree. At all. Joey being in the tree had nothing to do with Rachel. She wasn't even in her room.

Police Officer: Can you tell us why he was in the tree?

Mhairi: It was my fault. This whole thing should never have happened. Why did I have to be so stubborn? (Fighting back tears.) All I had to do was let him in the door. We'd had a fight. A bad fight. I just thought he'd get pissed off and leave, you know? He'd go back to 'the guys' and give me some space. But he didn't. He jumped the fence and started to climb the tree. He was just trying to get to me, to talk to me. He must have really thought he was losing me to climb that stupid tree. I mean, he is terrified of heights. I can't imagine how scared he was. To get to my window, he'd have to walk past Rachel's window then jump the small gap between the houses. They must have spotted him in the tree. And, them being them, immediately jumped to the conclusion that of course he was a pervert. (barely contained rage.) By the time Mr McDonald came raging out of the house, Joey was going past Rachel's window. When he heard all the shouting, he turned round, swiveling on his foot. That's when the tile came loose. And Joey...he...he....That's when Joey fell, (cries/sobs/wails)

Police Officer: Miss Ellis, we have more questions. Are you able to continue?

Mhairi: Yes...ahem...yes.

Police Officer: In their statements, Mr and Mrs McDonald informed us that they had often seen a man loitering around their home and garden, usually fleeing to avoid being recognised. They believe it may have been Mr Cook as the man often fled towards your garden.

Mhairi: Really? They think that it was Joey? They have a sixteen year old daughter, who is not allowed out after nine, with a seventeen year old boyfriend who has a car, but it is totally my boyfriend who has been sneaking around their house.

Police Officer: So you know who has been hanging around outside the McDonald residence?

Mhairi: Yes, his name is Fred Alderton. Nice kid actually. He finishes work at around nine and stops off to see Rachel on his way home. Never goes into the house. Either stands in the garden and she pops her head out the window; or he climbs up to the window, sits on the roof and they chat.

Police Officer: Can we go back to something you said earlier? You said that Rachel was not in her room at the time of the incident. The McDonald's were under the impression that she was,

Mhairi: They had grounded her, so she snuck out. Probably to see Fred.

Police Officer: Just to clarify, Mr Cook's reason for climbing the tree was to get to you and nothing to do with Miss Rachel McDonald?

Mhairi: Yes.

Police Officer: And Mr Cook is not the man seen fleeing twenty-six Ripley Road on several occasions? It was, in fact, this Fred Alderton?

Mhairi: Yes. Are we nearly done? I'm sorry, but my boyfriend has just fallen from a roof and is in a coma. What they are accusing him of is ridiculous, I've told you everything. Can I please leave?

31 Day Writing Challenge #2: Day 4 - 'Red Plaid Shirt'

It still smelled like her. She's worn it so much, it was as if her scent had become embedded in the fabric. Most girls stole their boyfriend's hoodie or jumper, maybe a t-shirt, but not his girl. No, for Ivy it had to be his red plaid shirt.

He could see her now: curled up on the couch reading during restless nights, wearing nothing but lace boyshorts and that shirt; dancing around his kitchen in that shirt, making breakfast and wearing that shirt; practicing her routines in that shirt; tearing through the house looking for 'her' shirt; movie nights with Ivy wearing the shirt as a dressing gown and Ivy borrowing the shirt to 'complete her outfit'. There were more photos of Ivy in his red plaid shirt than there was of him in it. Any time he wore what was technically his shirt, people would ask why he was wearing his girlfriend's clothes. He could almost hear her laugh and gloat that she'd always said it really was her shirt. 

It was her shirt, Emmet knew that. It may have been from a mens department and Emmet may have bought it long before Ivy ever borrowed it, but it was Ivy's shirt. Always had been, since the first time she tried it on.

Every memory of Ivy in that shirt was bitter sweet and made him smile. All, except one. Ivy's tear-streaked face contorted with pain, fury and disbelief as she threw the shirt at him. The day he got his shirt back was the day he lost his girl.

Ivy would never forgive him for what he did or for the words he said. Pretending that he didn't feel the same, that he didn't want her anymore, had been the hardest lie he'd ever had to tell. It had torn his heart to shreds. But he had to do it. She wasn't going to go, she was going to stay trapped here, because of him. She was going to give up her dream, for him. She was going to give up her chance at everything she had ever wanted and worked for her whole life, solely because she loved him.

He couldn't, he wouldn't, let that happen. He wouldn't let her make the wrong choice. Ivy O'Neill deserved better than a life stuck here with him.

31 Day Writing Challenge #2: Day 3 - 'Tick Tock Tick.'

Tick. Tock. Tick.

Tick. Tock. Tick.

Tick. Tock. Tick.

The constant heartbeat of the antique grandfather clock echoed through the house. Each beat a twist in Lauren's gut.

Tick. Tock. Tick.

Amid the beating of the clock, Lauren could hear footsteps climbing the stairs and the other end of the hall. She knew who it was and what was about to happen.

When Aiden entered the room, she didn't turn to greet him, she just steadfastly faced the grandfather clock.

"What are you doing? It's time to go. Grab your bug-out and...wait...why are those weapons not packed? We have to go. Now. You know that. It's your plan. What the fuck are you playing at?"

Lauren steeled herself and squared her shoulders.

"I'm not going." She forced herself to remain strong and standing tall. "Aid, you have eight minutes. Go. Get everyone out of here. Now, Aiden."

"What the hell do you mean, not going? You really think that I'd...we'd leave you behind?"  Confusion came out as annoyance.

"You have to or you'll die." Lauren's voice, still aimed at the clock, remained expressionless and flat as it had for the entire exchange. Matter-of-factly, she continued, "We both know how stubborn I am and that, therefore, it will take more than seven minutes for you to change my mind. You will miss the window of escape; everyone we have fought to protect will die and you and I, we will be tortured. So you will leave without me, because, you and I both know that you will not sacrifice multiple lives to save one. No matter who the one is. Seven minutes, Aiden, go." Lauren sensed Aiden beginning to approach her slowly. "Aiden. Don't. Just go." Aiden stopped.

"Lauren...please. Come with me. Why wont you just come with us?" Aiden pleaded.

"To do what we swore we'd do: protect the group at any cost. We've lost so many already. Ava's pregnant now, that's a new generation to defend. There is more at risk so the price is higher too." Lauren's shoulders slumped ever so slightly in defeat. "It's me they want, Aiden. I can hold them off a little, give you a bigger window. Once they have me, it's unlikely they will stop hunting you, but they might back of a little, enough for you all to get away. That maybe, that extra chance for everyone's survival is worth what I'm going to do." Emotion had crept into Lauren's voice. She paused and regained her composure. "It's worth my life."

"They wont just kill you, Lauren, they'll...they'll..." Aiden faultered.

"They wont get the chance." That's when Aiden saw them. The bright, yellow pills.

"That's why you wouldn't let me tell you which safe house or what route. You knew what you were going to do. If you don't know where we are, you cant tell them. You knew all along."

"We both knew it would come to this, Aiden. You know it's what needs to happen. I have to stay behind."

"Lauren...I..."

"Dont. Aiden, please, I know but please don't say it. Please, Aiden, just go." Lauren fought back tears, still not turning to face the man she loved.

"Goodbye, Lauren."


Moments later, Lauren was left alone in the abandoned house,

Tick. Tock. Tick.

31 Day Writing Challenge #2: Day 2 - 'Then the light changed...'

A drop of sweat slid down Saffie's spine as she smiled into the sun. The sound of the waves crashing on the beach to her right seemed to bring peace to her soul, which was what Saffie needed after what she had left behind back home. Yells and cheers of surfers on the beach and conversations of passersby on the street, mingling with the ebb-and-flow of the sea was music to her ears. After four months, the novelty of being surrounded by the Australian accent had not worn off, even slightly. The Aussie sun warmed her skin as the salty perfume of the sea filled her nostrils. The pain and confusion of the last year, of what she had left behind in Scotland, was far from her mind. Moving Down Under had meant moving towards her happiness.

Saffie walked along the sparsely occupied street, as cars stopped on her left, in a queue starting the the traffic lights just up ahead. Out of the corner of her eye, Saffie saw something that stopped her cold. In a trance, she turned and stared into the black car paused next to her, Jake. Saffie felt like she was looking at a ghost.

She stared, unblinking, at the profile of the boy who went missing. His chocolate hair was longer and lighter and skin more tanned, but it was definitely him. It was definitely Jake Masson, sat there in the back seat, leaning forward to talk to the two sun-bleached, laughing men in front.

Memories flooded Saffie's senses: kisses; whispered 'I love you's; the feeling of fingers interlocked, of being in his arms; the smell of him, the one she'd been craving for a year. She went numb. All she could think was 'look at me. Jake, look at me. Please.' Saffie wanted to knock on the window, to make him look at her. She wanted to look into those eyes. But she couldn't move.

Jake sat back slowly, leaned against the headrest and turned his head to look out of the window.  His eyes met Saffie's and shock was suddenly written over every feature of his face.

"Jake." Saffie breathed as her hand began to reach out to him.

Then the light changed.

31 Day Writing Challenge #2: Day 1 - 'But You Said...'

"But you said..." 
"Fuck what I said." Bish's frustration shouted through his words. "I was talking shit and we both know."
"So how do I know you're not talking shit now?" Ellie challenged him, keeping her gazed steady on him.
"Because you can always tell when I'm lying. And because I'm about to do some stuff that I fucking never do and don't come fucking natural to me...and I'm gonna do them without any fucking beer," Bish's attitude was still on the angry side for someone trying to win a girl's heart. Ellie stayed silent; watching him, and when Bish finally made eye contact she raised her eyebrows in expectation. Bish gave a gruff, resigned sigh.
"I was wrong." His shoulders slumped and he looked at the ground.
"Well, that is a first." Bitterness filled Ellie's words. Bish scrunched his eyes and steeled himself to keep going.
"You were right." 
"Holy shit. Are you feeling ok? Or have you been replaced by the alternative universe version of yourself?"
"Ellie. I fucked up. OK?! You loved me and I left you alone. It was the stupidest fucking thing I have ever done. Shit Ellie, you're the only thing that made my life bearable." Bish stamped his feet pacing, looking anywhere but at her. Then he forced his gaze to look Ellie dead in the eye. "I love you, Ellie."
"Shit." The full weight of Bish's words hit her. "Bish...I...You don't say that. Ever. To anyone. I mean, you're almost allergic to the 'L' word."
"I'll say it to you every fucking day if you'll just take me back. I miss you, Ellie. It fucking hurts like hell." Bish stood there, desperate for the girl he abandoned to trust him again.
"Bish..." Ellie almost ran to him but fear stopped her.
"Ellie, I'm here and I am not going anywhere. I fucked up once, it will never happen again. I can't lose you again, I won't. I am in this. I promise. Fuck sake, Ellie. I'm talking about my feelings. Would I be doing this if I wasn't fucking in this a hundred percent?" Ellie looked at Bish, he was right, he wasn't running from his feelings; from her or from a tough situation. He was here. And, after all this time, he was telling her how he felt about her. 
"Say it again." Bish looked at her with a mix of surprise and confusion while a slow smile spread across her face.
"I love you, Ellie." Bish said softly as he walked towards her, pulled her close and kissed her. "I fucking love you." A huge smile lit up his face as he kissed the girl he thought he'd never get back.

31 Day Writing Challenge #2

I am doing another month long writing challenge. The prompts for the next 31 days are below.

Bring. It. On.

Why Haven't You Killed Me Yet?

Lying naked, her body intertwined with Cole's, his hands stroking her face as he kissed her, Allegra's mind was consumed with the burning question. She knew the answer, but she needed to hear him say it. She had no idea why, but it was all she could think about. She ran her hands through his chocolate brown hair as her eyes searched his face, as if any answers she found there would be enough. She snuggled closer, Cole's arms constricted around her, holding her closer to him. Allegra placed her cheek on his, her lips now next to his ear and whispered:

"Why haven't you killed me yet?" Cole's body tensed. "Don't worry, I'm unarmed." Allegra said exasperated, shifting her body back to where it had been moments before, snuggling into him. Her fingers running through his hair once more. Her features were soft, hopeful, as she looked into his eyes. 

Cole relaxed, his life and heart seemed to be safe, At least from her, at least for now. He tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear tenderly.


"How long have you known?" Cole inquired, unsure how this conversation would go.

"The whole time. Why do you think it was so easy for you to find me? To get close to me?" 

"You were going to kill me?" Cole was a bit taken aback.

"I was sent to. My father trying to protect me. Offense is the best form of defense, and all that."

"You'd be more vigilant in watching out for my attack if you were hunting me." Pieces were falling into place. Allegra just nodded. 

"I know you were sent to kill me. And I know your reputation. So, why haven't you killed me yet, Cole?"

"Probably for the same reason that you haven't killed me." Cole stared intently into Allegra's eyes, 

"That's not an answer,"

"I haven't because...." Cole hesitated and broke eye contact.

"Because you cant." Cole's eyes shot up to look into Allegra's gaze. "Because everything that makes you the assassin that you are refuses to make this kill. Because..."

"I love you." Without even waiting for a reply, Cole moved his head to Allegra's and kissed her passionately. Allegra smiled.

"I just wanted to hear you say it." Allegra grinned broadly. Cole rolled his eyes and went right back to kissing her, Allegra pulled away slightly, her hand caressing his cheek. She stared into his eyes and whispered:

"I can't kill you either." Cole smiled, and ran his finger tips softly from the back of the hand Allegra still had on his cheek, along her arm, across her shoulder and down her spine. Allegra's eyes closed as she gave into the sensation of his touch. As his fingers made their way to the small of her back, Allegra's hips jutted towards Cole's body, her hand moving into his hair and gripped. Cole rolled them over so that he lay on top of her, then bringing Allegra up with him, his hands under her shoulder blades, his arms supporting her back, raised himself up to kneel back on his ankles. Allegra, now straddling his thighs, bent her legs under herself so she was kneeling too, with him between them. Cole pulled her closer to his body, holding her there as his mouth began kissing and biting her ear, neck and shoulders. One of Allegra's hands was leaving scratch marks all over Cole's back, trying to grip him to her, while the other hand was in his hair, holding his head to her, Her head was thrown back as her breathing became panting. Of it's own accord, her pelvis had began moving against him. Cole's hands steadied her hips, holding them where he needed them, and thrust into her. Allegra gasped in pleasure. She brought her head back up and looked into his eyes.

"I love you." Allegra caressed Cole's cheek and kissed him. Cole slowly moved his body forward, laying her onto the bed, following her down with them still locked in a passionate kiss and joined at their most intimated places. Cole was now laying on top of Allegra, supporting his own weight. He broke the kiss and looked down at the woman he was sent to kill. He stroked her cheek and kissed her gently, knowing that, not only would he never kill her, he'd do anything to protect her.

As Cole brought Allegra to pleasure again and again, while struggling to hold off his own release, despite everything she was doing driving him to desperation. Both could sense a change, a shift, between them. They had crossed the line between sex and making love. The truth was out, both about the feelings they had for one another, although they had been there for some time, and about why they met. It was as though any walls left between them had crumbled.

Afterwards, they lay in each other's arms, talking about their various attempts at ending the other's life. They chatted about it easily, like it wasn't out of the ordinary to try to kill the one you love.

"What I don't get is, why I was sent to kill you." Cole almost flinched at the thought, "Why not just send me to kill your father?"

"Killing him, it only gets rid of him. And it's quick, especially if he sent you. Graymond's too angry for that. Dad would quickly be replaced by his deputy and he wouldn't suffer. But me, I'm one of his best trained killers and I'm always his little girl. Killing me leaves a massive chink in his armour, partially crippling his defense but it also cripples the man himself. Letting him live knowing his daughter was killed because he made enemies, that's the way to really exact revenge on Hugo Bertrandt Vincent." Cole pulled Allegra to him, almost crushing her to his chest.


"Hey. It's OK. With the exception of you, no-one's ever gotten close enough. Plus, not many people know I'm his daughter. I'm more worried about about you."

"Me?!" Cole pulled back, looking at her in confused surprise.

"Well, you aren't going to kill me, right?" Cole shot Allegra a look that screamed 'what do you think?'. "Well, Graymond is going to find out. He'll send someone to kill me and another to kill you."

"What do we do?"

"I don't know. We could go to my dad."

"Oh, yeah, I totally see him welcoming the assassin targeting his daughter."

"I'll fix it."

"How?"

"I'll figure it out."

"Are you always this optimistic?"

"I just fell in love...With the man sent to kill me. At this point, anything seems possible." Cole chuckled and kissed her.

'Sweet Angel'

He gently ran his fingers through her long, golden hair; he never got sick of playing with her tresses. She was asleep, and looked so peaceful, so innocent. But he knew the truth. A slow, sly smirk spread across his face at the thought. He stroked his thumb across her cheek. He soft, pink lips were slightly parted and looked so enticing. He had an intense urge to kiss them, but resisted. Waking her would be a mistake that would only result in too much fuss. He remember the last time. No, it was better for her to stay asleep - at least for now.

He stood watching her for a few minutes. Knowing that she was naked underneath the covers that currently shielded her from his eyes, was intoxicating. But it wasn't the time to make his move. So he satisfied himself with stroking her hair and watching her as she slept.

"Sleep tight, sweet angel."

A light giggle escaped her rosy lips, but other than that she didn't move. She didn't even open her eyes.

"Seriously?" She said sleepily. "Could you be any creepier? You're standing over me; watching me sleep and stroking my hair. And 'sweet angel'? What the hell was that?" She chuckled sleepily. "Forget what I said about you being more affectionate. Just, forget it. OK? Now, please, get into this bed and spoon your girlfriend. Idiot." Rolling her eyes, she sighed contentedly, stretched a little and snuggled deeper into the warmth of her bed. 

The Boy in the Lake

'LUCA!' 

Selene wanted to scream, to yell, to explode. But she couldn't, the sight had paralysed her. His head was bowed, and he was submerged up to his knees in the lake. His arms were bound out to his sides; leather straps tethered his wrists to two wooden posts protruding out of the murky water. His body was slumped, but upright enough that Selene knew he was still alive. Possibly barely.

Selene's instincts began to kick in; she surveyed her surroundings, listened for sounds of anyone watching and tried to formulate a plan of how to get Luca out of the lake as quick as possible. Seeing no other way, she resolved to wade through the lake, untie him and drag him back to the shore. As she was about to make her move, she was tackled to the ground. She was about to fight back, when she saw the flames on the forearm of her assailant. Rafe.

"Stay. Down." Rafe ordered in a whisper. 'But Luca' Selene thought, her desire to run to Luca was so strong, but her trust in Rafe won out and she listened to him. 

"He's bait." Rafe explained, like it would make her feel better. Instead, it just made her look at him with like she was going to kill him. Rafe rolled his eyes. "We have a plan. OK? Just stay down until we need you. You trust us, right?" Selene's angry gaze stayed on Rafe, but he knew she was wordlessly agreeing to listen to him. Mainly by the fact that she wasn't fighting him right now.

Selene lay on the ground, she could see Luca through the branches and foliage of the bushes that Rafe had launched her into, he looked so vulnerable. Luca as bait? Why was that a plan? She just wanted to get to him, to help him. This wasn't a feeling that she was used to, or really ever had. Instead of focusing on the danger he was in, Selene decided to fixate on Luca. The light coming from the trees was highlighting the muscles in his arms and shoulders. Selene just wanted to be wrapped in those strong arms again. He deserved better than this, this wasn't what he was raised for. He shouldn't be tied up like that, waiting to be captured, all because he wanted to help her save Rafe. 

Suddenly, Selene's senses sprung into action. She could here far off sounds of people approaching. Clipped, military voices sounding off. The enemy. LUCA. Rafe felt Selene's body jolt underneath him as she tried to spring herself up and towards Luca. He used all of his body weight to keep her still.

"We know what we are doing. You'll get to save him. I promise. Just not just yet."

The men were getting closer and closer, straight for the lake. And Luca was still the boy in the lake, tied up and alone.

Eye Contact

The bandages were beginning to get really uncomfortable; mostly due to her impatience at the immanent moment the doctor had been talking about for the last ten minutes - and she had been dreaming of her entire life - the moment when they would find out if the surgery had worked.

She could hear the doctor explaining her recovery, the chances that the surgery hadn't worked and what could be expected when the bandages came off. Jenna just wanted to tear the damn things off! The anticipation was physically making her skin itchy and her muscles felt like they were contracting. She wanted to scream.

"OK, Jenna, I think it's time." Jenna could feel the expectation, the nervous energy in the room.

"Jenna, I need you to have your eyes closed when we remove the bandages." Jenna closed her eyes tightly, like a child waiting for a surprise. She could feel the bindings around her head loosening, then disappearing. As the last of the material fell from her eyes, she could see light through her eyelids. She could see light. Jenna's heart rate accelerated and she wanted to open her eyes wide. But the doctor had told her to take things slow.

Jenna could feel someone stroked her hand, from sensory memory, and a life time of getting to know the feel of those hands, she knew it was her mum. 

"OK, honey, when you're ready, open your eyes." Jenna was beaming, and could hear her mother's voice break a little. 

Slowly, Jenna opened her eyes and, bit by bit, let the world in. At first, it was all a blur of light, colour and shapes. But then things began to come into focus. 

She. Could. See.

As the world around her came into focus, there was only one thing Jenna wanted to see: her mum. 

"I thought you said you had blue eyes, mum, they look grey." As tears fell down her mother's cheeks, at the age of seventeen, Jenna Fox looked her mother in the eyes for the first time.

Teddy Bear and her Boys

"Here's to one whole year with our Teddy Bear." Harry beamed as he raised his glass high. His was joined by five glasses, held by his best friends, his brothers, each one smiling at the only girl sat at their table. Teddy was smiling, and Harry she could see her blushing a little too. Teddy raised her glass.
"And here's to my boys." They all clinked glasses before taking a drink.

Dan looked across the table at Teddy. Her green eyes lit up with her smile at something Harry was saying. When she replied, a loud, belly laugh erupted from Harry as Mitch, who was sat at the other side of Teddy, yelled 'Burn!'. That girl could dish it out as well as any of the guys. It was hard to believe it had only been a year since Teddy had come into their lives. She had been so shy then, so quiet. She was still as private now, she kept so much to herself, but she could be just as loud and boisterous as the guys, And, boy, did she know how to put all six of us in their place. 

Dan and the boys had been a tight-knit group for over ten years, since school, and the group had always been all male. That was until Teddy. All the guys looked at Teddy like a little sister. Someone to protect. All of them - except Dan. He damn sure wanted to protect her but it was not brotherly love that Dan felt for Theadora Louise McCallum. He wanted to explore every inch of the curves of her body; to hear her tell him that she loved him the way that he loved her and he was constantly fighting the urge to grab her and kiss her and more. A lot more. Nope, nothing brotherly about it. Teddy looked up and her eyes locked with his, and she smiled. Dan smiled back. Something passed between them and he knew he should look away. He knew that if they kept this up, she'd work out what was going on with him. Dan saw a blush creep across Teddy's face,
"You know, Teddy, it's been a whole year and we know sweet F.A. about your life before us. You never talk about it." Mitch piped up. Teddy turned to look at him, breaking whatever was going on between her and Dan.
"Mitch. Leave it." Dan didn't raise his voice, but made it clear he was to be listened to. The guys had made a deal: no asking Teddy about her foster homes. Why the fuck would Mitch bring it up now?
"It's OK." Teddy's voice broke through Dan's anger. "I'm actually surprised you guys have never asked about it before." The boys all looked at Dan, the main reason the subject had never been broached.
"It was tough." Teddy looked down at her hands, which were clasped and resting on her lap. "Waiting to be adopted, but instead, being moved from foster home to foster home. Some were good, some...not so much. One that lead to too many hospital visits." Teddy glanced up to see six jaws, clenched in anger at the thought of her being hurt, She looked at Dan, his hand was in a fist and his eyes were darker. He wanted to hit something. Seeing how the boys reacted, she was reminded that she had found people who truly cared about her. Finally,
"Then there was my last foster home, with Jean and Paul. They took care of me, they really tried. But I was sixteen, and angry. My walls were too high and I was only there a little over a year, I never let them in. Jean died and Paul went not long after. Broken heart from losing his Jeanie." Teddy could feel the tears welling in eyes. "By that time, I was eighteen, and had a part time job, Social services didn't need to find me a new placement. I was on my own. I worked and went to college. Then I met Harry-Bo here," she smiled at the man who had introduced her to this band of brothers. He beamed back. "Then I met the rest of you clowns, and now, here we are," She looked around at her boys, smiling. "I guess, I never had anyone that I meant that much to," she shrugged. "until I met you guys."
"Aaahhh." Will, who was sat to Teddy's left, got up, walked up behind Teddy and wrapped her into a massive hug. "We love you, Teddy Bear."
"Yeah, we don't let any girl join our fun." Eddie piped up from his seat next to Dan. Teddy laughed and joked with the guys for a few minutes, but after talking about it all, some of the thoughts and memories had surfaced. Most of them painful. She tried to push them to the back of her mind.

The thoughts, combined with the noise and the crowd in the bar, began to get to Teddy and a feeling of claustrophobia was starting to set in. She told the guys she'd be back and headed for the door. She just needed to stand outside for a few minutes to get some air in the quiet street.

Dan had seen Teddy get uncomfortable and when she left the table, he went after her. He needed to tell her, and now was his chance. He loved the guys but being part of group who were always together had it's disadvantages. Not getting a chance to talk to Teddy alone, for example. Not without questions being asked anyway. Dan caught up to Teddy after she had left the bar. 

"Oh hi, Dan. You needing some fresh air too?"
"Not exactly."
Dan looked at Teddy in the eyes and grinned. He stepped closer to her and cupped her cheek with one hand, while the other arm wrapped around her waist. He leaned in and his lips met her's in a gentle kiss. The kiss intensified when he felt Teddy's hands hold him to her: one hand on his shoulder, the other on the back of his neck. Dan pulled back slightly.
"Just so you know, you don't mean 'that much' to me." he said shrugging the way Teddy had when she'd used the same phrase. Dan saw the hurt flash in those beautiful green eyes.
"You mean damn near everything to me." He held her tightly to him, both arms wrapped around her waist, not wanting to let her go. His forehead touching her's and he could see a smile that reached her eyes spread across her face. She tilted her head back slightly and gently pulled his down until his lips touched her's again.

Emma

Emma Darcy

Beloved Daughter

Cherished Friend

Born: 16.10.1992

Died: 04.03.2010

"Beloved daughter? BULLSHIT!" was all that Blake could say after reading the gravestone for the fifth time. "After all the black eyes and hospital visits, they write 'Beloved daughter'?" Blake's temper flared as he remembered what Emma's parents had put her through.

"They got the next line right though." knowing full well how angry this topic could make Blake, Gwen changed the subject as best she could. After getting no reply, Gwen turned to look at her brother and saw a familiar look on his face.

"Do you regret it? Not telling her, i mean?" Blake was thoughtful for a moment before replying.

"No, if she had said no, then well it'd be shit, you know, but if she had said yes, and we'd gotten to be together, losing her would have fucking killed me."

"If someone knew what her answer would have been, would you want to know?"

"She told you?" He asked flatly, not taking his eyes off the gravestone,

"Yeah, but she didn't need to."

"I don't know."

"OK." The twins stood in silence, looking at the last physical reminder of the girl who had been cruelly taken from them.

"Maybe you should tell her now, get it out but you wont get an answer. I'll go, you say goodbye." Gwen walked towards the large grey slab, placed his hand on the top and whispered, 

"Goodbye Emms." Tears welling in her eyes. And with that, she walked away, and didn't look back.

Forgiveness

It's not what we did that is unforgivable to her. She's forgiven me. at least a little. It's that it was you that did it, that she cant forgive. We both did the exact same thing but we didn't hurt her the same way. I hurt her as the idiot ex who stuck around. Someone she cares enough about to forgive but not enough to truly hurt her. You hurt her as a guy she loves beyond all reason, the person she truly trusted not to betray her. Then you did it. I inflicted the equivalent of a a fractured finger, but you? You're a few broken bones, possibly a stab wound. You want her forgiveness? You want her? Then go earn it, earn her. Apologise. Not once, but over and over and over again. Be sincere. Hell, grovel. Embarrass yourself. Promise her that you will spend the rest of your life proving to her that you wont betray her ever again, and mean it. Don't just tell her you love her, SHOW her. Make it your life's work.

'Missing: Snow White'

Looking through the clear plastic lid at where is true love should have been, all Prince Flaurien could see was a small bouquet of wild flowers, that the dwarves had lovingly picked and placed in the coffin, lying lifeless where once a beauty with skin as white as freshly fallen snow, had been in a deep sleep. She was gone. This was wrong. This was all wrong.

Had someone taken her? Or had someone else shared true love's kiss with is princess and woken her? Surely, they couldn't have happened. He was her prince. He had danced with her at the ball and spoken words of love to her as she stood high above him on the balcony. It was he who had searched the kingdom, spent nights, devoid of comfort and luxury, in the woods, succeeding where the Queen's men had failed - he had found where the Princess had fled to. It was improbable, no impossible, that another could be capable of breaking the spell.

"She'd have said 'Goodbye'." a voice reassured from across the royal resting place, "to us, I mean, if she'd woken up."
"Which means she's been taken." Prince Flaurien asserted, "I don't know if that's better or worse,"
"Both. Neither." The voice replied, Prince Flaurien looked up, reluctantly tearing his eyes from where a mass of ebony hair should have been fanned across the pillow. The voice had come from the apparent leader of this band of brothers, Doc.
"What it does mean," Doc continued, "is that she still needs help. It means, she is still your's to rescue."
"It's your destiny." Piped up the cheeriest of the Princess' new friends.
"Do we really think he's up to it?" a sour-face with salt-and-pepper hair and beard to match grumbled, " The fool's been staring at the box like it'll bring her back. It wont."

Determination once again filled the Prince. He would find his Princess, he would rescue her, he would prove Grumpy wrong. Feeling resolute, he opened the box and began to inspect the interior for clues. Anything to help him solve the Kingdom's biggest mystery: who had kidnapped the cursed Princess? Who had taken Snow White?

Secret Message.

I begged you, Walk away my darling,

You were never meant to be so near.

You should have listened to their dogma

For it would have gotten you away clean.

Instead, you claim, you followed your heart. 

To my love, you did succumb.

Enough to turn away from Mamma,

So it could be, forever, you and I.

But this is where that got you, my dear,

To this spot, married and loved but shunned and dead.

Light to Dark

"How do you know Barbie isn't a slut?" Lucy shrugged, waiting for the punchline of her best friend's, likely terrible, joke. 
"Because her legs don't open." Lucy laughed along with Julie, who evidently found her own joke hilarious. Julie always had a new joke to tell; all of which Julie would inevitably find hilarious, and the majority of which would cause Lucy to roll her eyes and laugh. 
           The Coffee Bean Inn was mostly quiet, except for the two seventeen year olds laughing about the sex life, or lack thereof, of the world's most famous woman-shaped lump of plastic. The girls had met at their favourate caffeine dispensary not long before. The night was early and, like all teenage best friends, they had much to tell each other while they sipped hot chocolate with marshmallows.



D.I. Colin Matthews stood, with his brow furrowed, looking at the body of a young girl slumped across the table of the corner booth. There were no signs of a struggle, no blood and no other indications that would make cause of death apparent. However, what struck Matthews most, was that he recognised the victim. Lucy Halloway. Lucy was one of his wife's drama students, one of the most talented too.
          Across the table from the harrowing sight of a young life ended before it had begun, was an empty booth seat covered in spilled hot chocolate, which was now the same temperature as the skin of the late teenager. The puddle had been smeared across the seat by someone leaving the booth. A Paul's Boutique bag had been left next to the window by the person who had previously occupied the space. A purse found in the bag contained the I.D, of Julianna Louise Marcus. Upon seeing the name, Matthews quickly left the coffee shop and interrupted his colleague's interview with the potential witness without apology or explanation. Matthews led his colleague to his car and took a deep breath.
"You cant work this case, Andy." Confusion became etched on Andrew's face.
"What? Why?" 
"The victim in the coffee shop is Lucy Halloway." Matthews watched as his colleague tried to work out how he knew the name, why it was so familiar,
"We believe there was a second person in the booth. There is evidence to indicate it. We don't know how they are involved, but they are missing and they left their bag," Matthews closed his eyes, took another deep breath and broke the news.
"Andy, it's Julie. We found her I.D." He handed D.S. Andrew Marcus the card. Marcus' face drained of colour as he looked at the smiling face of his niece.

'Blue Dress'

"This would look so good on you!" Mazzie squealed, holding the electric blue, body-hugging dress with lace sleeves and detailing.
"I am trying to crack a safe here! Do you want to shut up so I can think?" Esme snapped before groaning upon realising that her intel on said safe had been off - it had been modified to make it harder to crack. Still no match for her skills, but that wasn't the point.
"But it's your colour." Mazzie pouted.
"Fine, Fine. Just put it in the bloody bag."

'Fireworks'

It took everything I had to focus on the obnoxiously bright and loud explosions currently colouring the sky pink and gold. BANG! Again, 'look at me, look at me!', this time in green.

Why did I agree to come tonight? It wasn't like me being here made any difference to anyone. BANG! POP! I didn't have to come just because he asked me to. I could have said no. I should have said no. He shouldn't have asked me to come. BANG! Bang in red and blue. It was bloody selfish of him. Asking me to come here, so I could see what? Stand a few feet from him with his arms holding her to his chest? He's with the wrong girl.

BANG! Gold whizzes through the air. I know it. He knows it. Hell, even his friends repeatedly comment on it. I never believed in the whole 'fireworks when they kissed' idea.

POP! POP! POP!

Until I kissed him. But he didn't want a relationship. Wasn't in that place. We're better as friends, at least for now. But it was going to happen. Something in me knew it. 

Then with a BANG and some sparkle, she exploded between us.

'Bending to his will.'

He placed his fingers under her chin, forcing her look at him.
"I want to be with you for a long time, you know that right?" The words were sweet but Lisa felt it was more of an order than a statement of affection.
"You are mine." Ricky's hands now clasped Lisa's arms, which were still tender under the newly forming bruises. Lisa's wrist was still tinging with pain, and images of what he had done to her less than sixty minutes before kept flashing through her mind. 
"I love you." Ricky kissed Lisa, coldly and possessively. "I don't think you should see that guy from work anymore, don't you?" 

Lisa nodded solemnly and, in that moment, she felt weak and pathetic. Bending to his will; sacrificing everything thing she had and wanted, piece after piece of her soul broken, chipped and sanded off, everyday just a little bit more. A friend from work she'd only known a few weeks wasn't that big a deal. She'd given up worse. She could only really blame herself, she knew that her getting close to another man, even if it was completely platonic, would make Ricky angry. She'd done it anyway, made friends and brought it on herself. 

But people made friends all the time, even with the opposite gender and while in relationships, and those people weren't currently nursing a sprained wrist. Those people could go out with their (female) friends and not come home to suspicion and accusations. Those people could choose to change their hair cut without having it almost ripped it out when they got home. But if she did something she knew would lead to Ricky getting angry, wasn't his reaction kind of her fault?