The pain was pretty bad.
It was horrible. Terrible.
Like sucking shards of glass into my veins. Like my whole body was floating in lava. Like someone was replacing my air with rubbing alcohol.
It was the worst thing I’ve ever experienced.
It wasn’t over. Continue reading “I Lived”
The boat sat, as it always did, in the middle of the field. Abandoned, or so I assumed. It never moved. Never swayed. It lived there, in that field.
I was sure.
Because what boat sits in a field and doesn’t wait? What boat sits in a field and thinks “yeah, this is what I was made for?”
It sat in that field.
And it waited.
And every time I passed that boat, gazing at it from my moving mini-van, I couldn’t help but think that, maybe… just maybe…
…it waited for me. Continue reading “Boat in Wait”
“Hey, hurry up! Place your candle, we gotta get going. It’s going to be dark soon.”
Dad looked cautiously around us, as if the trees might reach down and smite him.
“Okay!” I replied.
I lit my candle and set it against the grave.
The grave of my brother.
“Lets go, Mom is probably worried by now,” Dad said, hurrying his way toward the exit of the graveyard.
Usually, Dad and I took our time. We actually paid respects to the dead. Took turns talking to my brother’s grave. Prayed for his spirit, all that good stuff. But today was different. Because today wasn’t an ordinary day.
Today was Halloween.
And we were on an island. No, actually. Not just an island.
The Island of the Dead. Continue reading “Dead Knock”
An envelope flies from the doorway and hits me in the head.
“What…?” I begin to ask, but it’s obvious.
The envelope has my name on it. When I look inside, there’s a small stack of bills for me. Payment from my brother.
“You sure got that done fast,” I say sarcastically.
He snorts. “Next time, I’ll pay Josie to wash the car. She doesn’t bug me half as bad as you about getting paid,” he says and then closes the door.
For someone who’s so adamant about procrastinating, my brother is actually really reliable. And incredibly capable. Anytime I need anything, I ask him. Sure, I have to bug him to death to get him to move, but once he gets moving?
That’s why, when I needed Richie Burt to die, I asked my brother for help. Continue reading “Fair Exchange”