Plot twist

Advertisements

Her Path to Hell

 

Normally, these get posted on my blog site http://rqshortstories.wordpress.com However I clicked on the wrong blog. I’m working a few short stories over the weekend to wake my muses up for Camp Nanowrimo July.

Now onto the fictional story. . .

 

She shouldn’t have done it. Stress killed her rational thought, while she was still shattered and crushed from the breakup. She was in pain and still helped him. It was just type of person she was . . .loyal and devoted.

One half of her family yelling at her feeling used, but it was not her intension. It was never her intent, but she is not going back to the looks of bitter disappointment and half yelling lectures of being used with half rolled eyes watching her on her knees while telling her “we told you so.”
She also was not going to cause wedges between members, so she left and didn’t look back. It was best for everyone. She just didn’t know she was going down the dark path.

Everyone yelling at doctors. . . specialist telling everyone different things. Some days she had three or less hours of sleep. She was sleeping in the hallways of the hospital waiting for answer. Then a weak voice ask to go home, and he listened to her advice. The final few days everything declined making her feel like a useless liar.
He left the earthly realm, and so did part of her heart and soul. She felt empty and purposeless. She was simply a walking hallow shell of a human. The dim light of her soul barely sparked, and she bared got out of bed. So many pushed her, encouraged her, but by the time she woke up and everyone was gone. They all moved on with their own lives. She instantly felt lost and alone.

Drama with landlord. . . rules upon rules, she felt like she was in a prison not a rental. There was a prison of her heart and mind locked in her cautious and scared soul. She was locked with “what ifs” for bars. The endless verbal rules made her even more alone. . .
No cats, shoo away the stray cats, fees if you feed them, no guests after ten, payments by third, keep windows close, don’t talk to neighbors in the middle of the sidewalk, do not discuss rent prices.

Soon she just locked herself away until one day the nightmares got louder, scarier, and more confusing.
So she ran, but turned the wrong way. The lifted truck came out of nowhere, she had no chance. Secretly, she didn’t want one.

Extreme scream pain coursed throughout her body with seconds, and then instant black numbing silence.
She waited in a line only to greeted by her ex with the words “What are you doing here?”

Then he begins to step back and panic. . . “It’s too early, you are not supposed to here.” A siren blares hard and like a mixture of flat angels singing blended into bitter souls screaming and slowed aged bells.
“Oh God, gun, what did you do?” his eyes got large in terror as armored angels grabbed her both sides and pulled her out of line.
“You are the wrong location, miss.”

They drug her away and pushed her into a slide. . . whispering words and thoughts twisted.. . .it was bright turned into a redness, crimson shadow into a darker blackness. . .lacking light and warmth. Whispering word of gossip and lies turned into harsh shrieking, blood curdling screams.
She landed on a hard black slab or cold rock. The only thing she could hear was the arguing bitterness and cries of old friends and separated family blaming each other for her death. . .

Time went by . . she wasn’t sure how much because she was alone in her darkness with her past playing over and over in her head.

Finally there was a candle. . .although it was a dim light it was enough to burn her delicate eyes. Her head felt as if someone drilled a screw in her head through her eyes. She squinted and lowered her eyes to the harsh yet dim flame lighting most of the room.
Then a slim man walks into the room, she saw his dirty feet. She looked at him and instantly looked up and memories of her childhood crush replayed in her head.
He was still beautiful with his dirty skin and greasy hair. For one second she was stunned. . .
Until said “no, I cannot do this.” There was no sorry just a look of unattractive disgust.

 


At that moment, she knew she was in hell.

Her Path to Hell

She shouldn’t have done it. Stress killed her rational thought, while she was still shattered and crushed from the breakup. She was in pain and still helped him. It was just type of person she was . . .loyal and devoted.

One half of her family yelling at her feeling used, but it was not hero tension. It was never her intent, but she is not going back to the looks of bitter disappointment and half yelling lectures of being used with half rolled eyes watching her on her knees while telling her “we told you so.”
So she was going to cause wedges between member, so she left and didn’t look back. It was best for everyone. She just didn’t know she was going down the dark path.

Everyone yelling at doctors. . . specialist telling everyone different things. Some days she had three or less sleep, sleeping in the hallways of the hospital waiting for answer. Then a weak voice ask to go home and he listened to her advice. The final few days everything declined making her feel like a useless liar.
He left and so did part of her heart and soul. She felt empty and purposeless. She was simply a walking hallow shell of a human. The dim light of her soul barely sparked, and she bared got of bed. So many pushed her, encouraged her, but by the time she woke up and everyone was gone. They all moved on with their own lives. She instantly felt lost and alone.

Drama with landlord. . . rules upon rules, she felt like she was in a prison not a rental and a prison of her heart and mind locked in her cautious and scared soul. She was locked with “what ifs” for bars.
No cats, shoo away stray cats, fees if you feed them, no guests after ten, payments by third, keep windows close, don’t talk to neighbors in the middle of the sidewalk, do not discuss rent prices.

Soon she just locked herself away until one day the nightmares got louder, scarier, and more confusing.
So she ran, but turned the wrong way. The lifted truck came out of nowhere, she had no chance. Secretly, she didn’t want one.

Extreme scream pain and then instant black.
She waited in a line only to greeted by her ex with the words “What are you doing here?” Then he begins to step back and panic. . . “its too early, you are not supposed to here.” A siren blares hard and like a mixture of flat angels singing blended into bitter souls screaming and slowed aged bells.
“oh god, gun, what did you do?” his eyes got large in terror as armored angels grabbed her both sides and pulled her out of line.
“You are the wrong location, miss.”

They drug her away and pushed her into a slide. . . whispering words and thoughts twisted.. . .it was bright turned into a redness, crimson shadow into a darker blackness. . .lacking g light and warmth. Whispering word of gossip and lies turned into harsh shrieking, blood curdling screams.
She landed on a hard black slab or cold rock. The only thing she could hear was the arguing bitterness and cries of old friends and separated family blaming each other for her death. . .

Time went by . . she wasn’t sure how much because she was alone in her darkness with her past playing over and over in her head.

Finally there was a candle. . .although it was a dim light it was enough to burn her delicate eyes. Her head felt as if someone drilled a screw in her head through her eyes. She squinted and lowered her eyes to the harsh yet dim flame lighting most of the room.
Then a slim man walks into the room, she saw his dirty feet. She looked at him and instantly looked up and memories of her childhood crush replayed in her head.
He was still beautiful with his dirty skin and greasy hair. For one second she was stunned. . .
Until said “no, I cannot do this.” There was no sorry just a look of unattractive disgust.
At that moment, she knew she was in hell.

Camp Nanowrimo July Survival list

Every year in Nanowrimo forums they always ask you what is your survival list. . . Things you need to get through the month of writing your Camp Nanowrimo project.

  • Outlines
  • Notes
  • Character sketches

Most of this is my notebooks

  • Colorful pens
  • Tyneol (between hand cramps and headache)
  • Empty notebooks
  • Backpack (so I can take my writing every where I go.)

As I am writing 30,000 words by hand

  • Calendar (for word count and appointment)
  • Coffee with my creamer
  • Caffeinated soda (I write weird hours)
  • Candy or a treat (word sprints can wear you out)
  • Timer or clock for word sprints
  • Mom to go on walks with. . . (Too much writing can strain my eyes)

I’m keeping it simple this year.

Just Be Productive

I have a list a goals for writing. . . The first one is about my word count. I want 400,000.

I did have a year or two where I hit 500,000 words. . . However I have a lot more on my plate this year. I may not also hit 3,000 as a daily average, but I will be grateful just to get words on a page.

I was punching the numbers for my word count: I would have to have a daily average of 1265 to get to my goal. So far this year my daily word count average is 919. I would be about 70,000 words short of 400k.

Even if I don’t hit the 400,000 word count or 3,000 daily word counts, I just want to be inspired, motivated and productive.

I plan to write in Camp Nanowrimo July and Nanowrimo November, so it will help.

https://rebekahquinne.wordpress.com/2018/06/24/2018-writing-goal/

Overall, I just want to try to write something everyday from this point on.

2018 Writing Goal

  • Word count by December 31, 2018 (400,000 note: up to date I’m at 160,788 just 240,212 to go.)
  • Finish “Driving Lies
  • Work on getting a daily word count of 3000
  • Work on wattpad account https://www.wattpad.com/user/RebekahQuinne
  • Write more short stories http://rqshortstories.wordpress.com
  • Publish something
  • Work on personal project
  • Enter a few writing contests
  • Post up to 200 blogs this year (among all my blogs)
  • Succeed in camp Nanowrimo April 30k
  • Succeed in camp Nanowrimo July 30k
  • Succeed in Nanowrimo November 50k

Note: 30k and 50k are preferring to thousands in word count.

Camp NaNo

I plan to continue my writing project from Camp Nanowrimo July 2017.

I’m giving myself the goal of 30,000 words in 30 days. I did it in April. I can do it again.

I have to reread my previous work, notes, and outlines. I know my characters too well.

If this project goes the way I want. . . I will have a short story project for 50,000 wod goal for Nanowrimo in November.