The 365 Stories Project – Month Two
Liane Little
The Prisoner Copyright © 2008 by Liane Little
All Other Stories © 2010 by Liane Little
Published by Liane Little at Smashwords.com, 2010
Smashwords Edition, License Notes
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
Cover Graphic: © nuttakit – freedigitalphotos.net
Cover Design: Liane Little
Acknowledgements
I would like to thank, as always, my friends and family for all of their support.
I'd also like to send a shout out to everyone who has been following The 365 Stories Project blog. You're terrific!
The 365 Stories Project started off as a challenge. A challenge to write a short story, usually under 1000 words, every day for a full year.
As the first week passed, writing every morning got to be routine and now I find that, in addition to being challenging, it is also a way to steal some relaxation first thing in the morning.
I hope that you continue to follow the blog and read the stories as they come out.
The theory behind it is that one story is posted on the blog each day and each month will become an ebook. Paperback version containing all of the stories will be released when the project is finished. This particular volume contains the stories posted between November 16th, 2010 and December 15th 2010.
Enjoy!
The Calling
“Do it,” it whispered in her ear. “Do it.”
The strange voice had been giving this order since the moment Savannah had first turned on her iPod after the plane had reached its intended altitude.
“Do it. Do it,” it repeated again.
She had never heard the voice before, even with listening to the iPod every day on the bus to work. It was almost psychic the way the inflection seemed to match the beat of the music, no matter which song was playing from the randomized play list. More than that, it was compelling. There was nothing she wanted more than to listen to the voice and do what it wanted.
The current song ended, the first bars of the next began and something snapped. She just couldn't resist any longer.
Savannah paused the song, undid her seatbelt and stepped into the aisle, waiting for her cue.
The other passengers gawked at her openly after the pressed play and began to move. There was even one man filming the event on his cellphone to post on YouTube later on. She ignored everyone easily, right up until she grabbed someone at random from their seat and got him to join her.
When she was finished, she returned to her seat. The voice was no longer whispering in her ear. The compulsion was gone. The only thing left was the fact that the song kept replying in her mind, leading her to hum it for the remainder of the trip.
“Dale a tu cuerpo alegria Macarena
Que tu cuerpo es pa' darle alegria y cosa buena
Dale a tu cuerpo alegria, Macarena
Ehhhhhhhhhh, Macarena”
Jealousy
The beautiful lady was the most amazing thing he had ever seen. So lithe, a classic beauty. Unfortunately, Colin wasn't the only one to think so. There was another man standing there holding a bottle of champagne and waiting for her.
Seeing him was just enough to push Colin over the line and send him into a jealous rage. “She's mine!”
“No, she's not! She's mine!”
Within seconds the two were embattled in a fight more vicious than either of them had ever participated in before.
“Aha!” Colin shouted victoriously. He had just slammed his fist into the other man's head. The guy fell hard, beaten and fairly bloody. He refused to get up, surrendering. “I told you she was mine!”
At that moment, Colin heard the sound of slow, sure footsteps and someone clearing their throat. He turned to see a well-dressed but severe-looking old woman glaring at them both furiously.
“If either of you are here to see about buying my husband's boat, you can forget about it. I will not let The Beautiful Lady to owned by animals like you!”
The Ghost in the Attic
It had been a long time since Daniel had seen anyone. He'd been locked away in the house so long he could remember. His wife, Cara, and son, Nathan, had left him long ago so Cara could marry the object of her affair. He had been so depressed that he'd locked himself in the attic and had barely moved since, as dead inside as he felt outside.
Most people even thought the rickety old house was abandoned. Every once in a while, he heard noises downstairs, child fulfilling a dare or a real estate agent making a half-hearted attempt to sell the place. Daniel never showed himself to anyone. He was invisible and it was easy to leave them to continue about their business and would figure out what to do when someone moved in when the time came.
It wasn't until one late spring day that the van came. It was a sound he hadn't heard in years. It drew him to the window and, as he tried to see who was moving in, a young boy caught his attention. The boy was about the same age as his son had been the last time they had seen each other.
The van was unloaded quickly for its size and the family began unpacking. Daniel tracked the family below, relishing the happy and optimistic tones that drew him from one side of the attic to the other depending on where they were downstairs. It was no surprise that he found himself eavesdropping during breakfast.
“Did you hear anything last night?” the boy asked.
“No. Should I have?” asked the father.
The boy looked down at his cereal. “I just thought I heard footsteps or something in the attic. No big deal.”
The father took a large bite of his toast and swallowed brushing off the topic. “It's an old house. There's bound to be unusual noises.”
The boy nodded and dropped the conversation. He didn't mention it at all for the rest of the week while Daniel spent the time trying to be even quieter.
Saturday morning came and Daniel thought that there would be no better time to make proper introductions. He paced nervously, waiting until lunch time to make himself known. At last, he heard the family sit down in the kitchen and made his way there.
He reached the doorway and stood silently, waiting for the perfect moment. When he realized that there didn't seem to be one, he cleared his throat. Two of them snapped their heads up and gawked at him before mother and son began speaking over each other.
“Who are you?” the boy asked curiously.
“Get out of our house!” the mother ordered.
Surprisingly, the father said nothing, only watched with a smile on his face. “It's alright,” he told his family calmly. Turning to Daniel, he said, “I knew you would come out eventually.”
Daniel was speechless. It was like this man knew him. Who did he know these days? Absolutely no-one. He stared blankly, unable to place the man.
“Don't you recognize me?” Receiving no answer, the man stood up proudly and walked across the room. “Hello, Dad,” he said wrapping his arms around Daniel.
Daniel pulled back and held his son out at arms length, completely amazed at this turn of events. He should have seen the resemblance.
“Nathan?”
“It's been thirty years, Dad. I'm glad to see you're still alive and kicking.”
“I thought I was dead,” Daniel replied in such a low voice that the boy couldn't hear.
Nathan smiled. “No, you're not dead. You've been here the whole time. I have no idea what you've done for food, but you're definitely not dead. Come and eat with us.”
Daniel followed his son to the table. He let his gaze travel from son to grandson to daughter-in-law and his heart warm with love. He was the happiest he had been in decades. His son had returned to him and brought his own treasured family with him.
He was not as dead as he had thought, inside or out.
White
It was white for as far as the eye could see, which was actually not very far given how Graham was goggled, scarved, toqued, and hooded as much as possible. This basically meant that, for all intensive purposes, that he was pretty much blind.
It hadn't been his choice. It was his mother's. He had fought her with everything he had and still he lost. He had to go to school or else he would be in big trouble.
It felt like Graham had been walking for hours, his many layers weighing him down. He knew there was no way that he had walked too far yet, but it was a fear that was definitely sitting in the back of his mind. He was about 99% certain, but was that enough?
If Graham didn't show up for school, Mom would hunt down his frost clad body and give him a smack and a grounding. If it weren't for this threat, he would have turned around and went home long ago.
He sighed and continued, dragging his huge, and seemingly fifty pound, boots as he went.
Two or three intersections later, he caught a vague sight of an even whiter expanse. “The school yard!” he thought gratefully.
He suddenly felt lighter as he tried to bolt to the school, visions of warmth floating in his head. He flew by the monkey bars and he ran even faster. Graham sprinted up the steps. Unable to stop on the icy patch he slammed into the doors, making his teeth rattle.
He ignored it and yanked on the doors, eager to get inside.
Nothing happened!
Graham walked around the entire school and found that each and every entrance was locked.
Apparently, Graham's mother had been so intent on making sure her son was warm for his trek to school that she had failed to remember that, although it was Friday, it was a long weekend!
The Prisoner
“It was supposed to be easy,” Leon began. His unapproved visitor listened with barely contained anticipation. “Just get in, get the stuff and get out. The couple was supposed to be asleep, their dreams keeping them unaware of what was happening under their very noses. I couldn’t tell you how they knew, but they did and I got caught, red-faced and red-handed.”
Leon’s guest gasped from the other side of the window, her voice sounding just a bit tinny through the screen they had to speak through. She shifted her position slightly, getting more comfortable and settling in for the long story. While she did, Leon could do nothing more than look out at the vast lawn and blue sky behind her, wishing that he, too, was able to go where he wished, when he wished instead of being locked away indefinitely.
“I can’t tell you what went wrong. I’m still not sure. I had been prepared. I had observed them for months. I knew their habits, their dreams, their secret fears. I knew everything about their lives. I knew perfectly well how easy it was to trick them, fool them into trusting me without question. One sad look and a few sweet words was all it took for them to turn into putty, willing to do anything I wanted.