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The Weight Of Days

11 Sunday Dec 2016

Posted by stevenjohnno in poems, stories

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

aged care, dying, getting old, memories

It is five in the morning and the kookaburras are laughing

in the trees.

The crickets are scratching outside my bedroom window.

And the neighbours rooster is welcoming a brand new sunrise.

With the sun comes the flies and the heat.

Five in the morning and i am already feeling the weight of days.

Let me introduce myself.

My name is  Bart Matthews and i am a resident of an aged care facility.

I am 82 years old and i have lived in this place for over five years.

As i listen to the kookaburras and crickets that means that i get to live

another day on this earth.

But that rooster could do with a bullet to the head.

I also the sounds into my head.

Sounds that remind me of my yesterdays.

Oh the weight of days.

All kinds of human sounds resonate around the facility.

The sound of a nightmare.

The sad cries from the lonely.

And the sound of the tormented.

But the sound that i hate the most is the sound of silence.

That can only mean one thing.

Someone has just departed this planet.

And i know that it will be my turn soon.

Oh the weight of days.

I lie in bed thinking about my yesterdays.

Because at my age it is no use thinking too much about

tomorrow.

But when you think about the past the memories are twofold.

Most of my memories are good but every now and then a bad one

will creep up and have something to say.

Oh the weight of days.

After a little snooze i go over to my rocking chair to catch the afternoon sun.

Another day is almost done and dusted.

One more day spent staring out of my window.

The world outside is just there but still beyond my reach.

I cant escape from this place i am here to stay.

Oh the weight of days.

I remember back when i was a kid playing with my siblings and friends.

Getting into mischief and all kinds of trouble.

Going camping on nanny goat hill only five hundred matres from home.

But it was like we were in the middle of nowhere.

I remember the horrible years i spent at high school where i was treated

like a mongrel dog.

I can also remember smoking and drinking  and losing my virginity with a friends

sister.

I was slowly becoming a man leaving my childhood behind

Oh the weight of days.

I am thinking back to my marriage and the birth of my two children.

When a nurse taps me on the shoulder and tells me that it is time to take

my pills.

I swallow them down with some water.

Now where was i?

The interruption has messed with my train of thought.

I cant remember what i was thinking about.

Oh the weight of days.

The next morning i am having breakfast in the common room.

A bowl of gluggy porridge and a cold cup of tea.

I look at my fellow residents all frail and feeble.

And i realise that i must look exactly the same.

As i look at them  i know that every one of them will have their

own memories inside.

And maybe some stories to tell

But none of us get many visitors so their stories will go untold.

There is no one around to listen to any word they have to say.

Oh the weight of days.

I am laying in bed reading a well read magazine.

When the nurse tells me that it is time for a sponge bath.

All i can do is lie there as she washes me all over.

It is degrading not being able to wash myself.

Pretty soon i will start to forget things maybe even my own name.

Oh the weight of days.

When i go to bed at night i find it hard to go to sleep.

Usually i only manage two or three hours.

And with every hour that i am awake all i do is think.

Insomnia is the curse of a lot of old people.

They are afraid that when they go to sleep they might not wake up.

We all just lie there knowing that the end is nigh.

Oh the weight of days.

My wife died a long time ago and both of my children are middle

aged.

And between them they have given me six grandkids.

They all visit once a month looking at their watches like they need

to be someplace else.

While the grand kids look at me like i am an exhibit in a museum.

I know that i am a burden and that my family is waiting for me to die.

Oh the weight of days.

It is a pain in the arse getting old.

I am still young at heart but my mind and body refuse to co-operate

I need a walker to get around and glasses to watch the world flash past.

And my hearing isn’t what it used to be.

But worst of all sometimes i need to use a bedpan.

With the indignity of a nurse having to wipe my rear end.

My bodily functions are no longer my own.

Oh the weight of days.

It is the morning of the 20th of November 2017.

Just another day in the twilight zone.

I go to the common room for my usual breakfast.

I am talking to another resident when i start to feel dizzy and

lightheaded.

Than before i know i am on the floor.

I am rushed to the hospital in an ambulance.

In a lucid moment i hear the word STROKE.

I drift halfway between life and death.

And a white light at the end of a tunnel is calling my name.

There is no pain

Lust a blessed relief that my time has arrived.

I eyes are closed and i know that they will never reopen.

Even though i am dying.

I haven’t felt this good in years.

The weight of days no longer sits heavy on my shoulders.

I say goodbye and die with a smile on my face.

Thanks for taking the time to read one of my stories and now could you please help me reach my goal in becoming a fulltime writer by making a donation. Thanks again Steven.

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Pigs Can Fly

03 Saturday Dec 2016

Posted by stevenjohnno in Uncategorized

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

bush pig, human flesh, kakadu, modified food, revenge, shooting

In the dense scrub at Kakadu National Park Northern Territory

Australia.

A sounder of bush pigs are feeding on mushrooms roots in fact

anything that there snouts dig up they will eat.

They don’t sense any danger.

But it is right behind them.

 

Bush pigs are their own worst enemies.

An introduced species they cause havoc and destruction wherever

they go.

They dig up the soil destroying the landscape causing erosion.

They also wallow in the waterholes and billabongs.

Turning them into fouled up stinking piles of mud.

 

Shane Frazer is a professional pig shooter.

For over ten years he has been trying to rid the Territory of

the feral porkers.

But due to the recent weather their numbers are exploding.

 

Today Shane is hunting from a helicopter.

The pilot is flying just above the treeline trying to flush out

the feral pigs.

When they reach a clearing about twenty bush pigs scatter in all

directions.

Shane takes aim and squeezes the trigger.

 

The leader of the sounder is a huge boar named Brutus.

Lifts his head in defiance and roars at the sky.

While all around him his underlings fall dead in a whirl

of blood and dust.

Than Brutus finally runs to the cover of the trees.

 

From the safety of the undergrowth Brutus looks at the machine

hovering above.

His eyes lock onto the face of the shooter.

And the image is stored deep inside his brain.

Brutus will never forget that face and one day he shall have his

revenge.

 

The pilot tells Shane that they only have an hour of fuel left and

they should start heading back.

But Shane doesn’t want to give up.

He couldn’t get a shot at the huge pig  and he knows that if he can

kill that razorback it will put a huge dent in their breeding season.

But at the same time he has to be realistic because there is always

tomorrow.

And tomorrow cant come soon enough.

 

Brutus hears the machine retreating and all of his muscles relax.

He bends down and starts to forage for food.

But the roots and wild flowers don’t satisfy his hunger.

Brutus now has another taste the taste for blood.

So he cannibalises his fallen comrades and swallows down the meat.

He sniffs the air trying to smell the smell of the shooter.

 

But all he can smell is the tang of the machine.

And when that machine returns Brutus will be ready.

He sharpens his tusks on a nearby tree they are now perfect for digging

up food.

And disemboweling his enemies.

 

A few hours later and Brutus has calmed down and is ready for some

fun.

He needs to fornicate to satisfy he desires and continue his species.

So Brutus wanders off searching for a mate.

 

A few hours later he stumbles upon a barbed wire fence.

Brutus tries to push over the fence but all he gets is an electrical shock

for his efforts.

Brutus has noticed a shitload of food on the other side.

So he starts to dig

 

If only pigs could read.

Because a danger sign is attached to the fence

‘DANGER DO NOT ENTER

TRESPASSERS WILL BE PROSECUTED’

 

Brutus digs way down below the fence line and crawls on in.

But he has entered a restricted area where the government is

conducting a top secret experiment.

It is genetically modifying food mainly vegetables like potatoes

carrots and corn.

 

Brutus cant believe his luck as he gorges himself on the tasty

treat.

He really pigs out.

He eats and eats until he is ready to burst.

Finally he cant eat anymore so he lies down to digest the food.

 

After awhile he starts to feel uncomfortable.

All of his joints are aching and his bones are expanding.

His body ripples as his muscles shift under his skin.

Every bristle on his body stiffen into razor sharp nails.

Than Brutus does something that a pig has never done before.

He stands upright on two legs instead of four.

 

Brutus doesn’t understand what is happening.

But he is now equipped with a body ready to rip and tear.

With revenge on his mind he walks straight through the fence

in a shower of sparks.

He doesn’t know where he is going.

All he can do is follow his snout to achieve his revenge.

 

Shane Frazer climbs aboard the helicopter ready for another working

day.

There is only one thing on his mind and that is to kill that rogue boar.

Shane has only one goal in his life.

And that is to rid Australia from feral and introduced species.

 

Brutus is in a rage as he walks toward a fight that he will not lose.

His tusks have grown tenfold and are as sharp as a rapier.

And his brain is now capable of performing intricate tasks.

This pig is now a smart battle ready killing machine.

 

His ears pick up a sound from a great distance.

And his eyes can now pick out and identify objects from more than

ten miles away.

Brutus recognises the killing machine and he strolls toward the sound

REVENGE.

 

He notices a rocky outcrop and a thought enters his modified brain.

If he can climb up there he can bring that machine down.

He climbs higher and higher until he reaches his position of choice.

He squats down ready for the right moment to strike.

 

Shane and the pilot are oblivious to the danger.

No one in their right mind would expect to see a pig 100 foot above

the ground.

Their eyes are locked on the ground looking for movement.

Brutus listens as the machine gets closer.

Than his eyes lock onto the face of the shooter.

His blood begins to boil as he stares at the pig killer.

Than the moment is here and he steals himself and launches.

 

Shane is concentrating so hard he fails to see the flying pig.

Than from the corner of his eye he senses movement.

He isn’t is concerned thinking it is only a large eagle or egret.

Than Shane utters his final words ‘What the fuck’

He cant believe what he is seeing a pig is flying toward the copter.

 

Brutus is flying through the air with wings that he never knew he possessed.

He flies straight into the machine and his tusks opens up the throat of the

shooter and pilot

Than he flies out the other side and glides down to the ground.

 

In the copter Shane and the pilot are desperately trying to hold their

throats together.

But the cuts run deep they are almost decapitated.

They both know that they dead men so they say their final goodbyes.

What a way to go killed by a flying piece of pork.

Who said pigs cant fly.

 

The helicopter is spinning out of control as it spirals towards the ground

Then it hits and explodes in a huge fireball.

 

Brutus watches as the machine explodes than he sits on his bacon butt

waiting for the flames to die down.

After an hour he walks over to the smouldering wreck and pulls the charred

bodies from their final resting place.

Than Brutus begins to eat the cooked human flesh.

He keeps on eating until there is nothing but two piles of bones in the dirt.

 

Brutus has now had a taste of human meat and he wants MORE.

 

Part Two is coming soon so keep an eye out

And stay away from the bacon.

Thanks for taking the time to read one of my stories and now could you please make a donation to help me reach my goal of becoming a fulltime writer. Thanks again Steven.

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Cereal Killer ( Part Three )

26 Saturday Nov 2016

Posted by stevenjohnno in poems, stories

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

cereal, hippo, killer, nile river, quick sand, south africa

Cereal can kill you in so many different way.

So be careful out there.

I am going away on my annual vacation next week

And i am a bit worried.

How am i going to survive overseas without my favourite

breakfast cereal?

I am sure that they wont sell weet bix in South Africa.

So what is a man to do?

Become a cereal smuggler of course.

On the morning of my flight i wake up early to prepare.

I slash the lining of my suitcase with a stanley knife.

And i place twenty four weet bix into the space.

And for good measure i tape another twenty four to my chest.

I am as nervous as a kitten when i arrive at the airport.

Than i realise that customs will be looking for contraband coming

in not going out.

Not that weet bix is contraband.

But it is addictive.

I arrive in South Africa after a long sixteen hour flight.

The plane lands with a thud and we all disembark.

I fill out the form stating that i am bringing no food into the country.

After all weet bix is really a food it is part of my existance.

The South African customs officer looks at me like i am Ted Bundy.

He searches my luggage like i am a drug smuggler.

But i am not smuggling drugs just fibre and a whole lot of goodness.

Surely customs will understand?

I breathe a sigh of relief when my passport is stamped.

And i wheel my trolley out of the terminal.

I cant wait to see the great outdoors and go on safari.

But i am really hanging for a taste.

It has been eighteen hours since i had my breakfast.

I really need a weet bix fix.

As soon as i reach my motel room i race to the bar fridge and

grab a bottle of milk.

I pour some over four weet bix and i immediately start to relax.

My heart beat returns to a normal rhythm.

Now that i have had my medicine i can start being a regular

tourist.

After a few hours sleep and a quick shower i am ready to join my tour

group.

Before i head downstairs i grab my wallet sunglasses and my backpack.

Which i fill with a bottle of water and sixteen weet bix.

Because you never know.

I meet my travelling companions downstairs and we all climb aboard

our tour bus.

Let the adventure begin.

We are on our way to kruger national park.

Where we can get nice and close to the local wildlife.

And we aren’t disappointed.

We soon see a pride of lions buffalo and wilderbeest.

A family of giraffe eat from the top branches of a tree.

And we see a herd of elephant in a waterhole.

I reach into my backpack and chew on a tasty weet bix.

After a week of sightseeing and stocking up on souviners

My supply of weet bix is getting mighty low.

I only have four left.

I will have to search the local markets for a worthy substitute.

After searching high and low i come across a wheat biscuit in a

supermarket.

Flakes of wheat compressed into a shape similar to a bar of soap.

I take the wheat biscuits back to my room

But what do i eat first?

Do i consume my last remaining weet bix?

Or try the local variety?

I decide to meet my needs with the local product.

I open the box of wheat biscuits and put them in a bowl with some milk.

And do you know what? They aren’t half bad.

The local supplier has come through i want have withdrawals after all.

I was worried about night sweats and going cold turkey.

But these wheat biscuits will do just fine.

In the morning i wake up to a brand new day.

The sun is shining and i am feeling good.

What sort of adventure will i have today?

I eat my four remaining weet bix and race downstairs.

I say hello to the tour group and we are on our way.

Today i think that we are going canoeing on the nile river.

Hopefully i will see some hippo.

Sometimes you shouldn’t wish too hard because it might just come true.

After about an hour the tour guide yells at me to watch out.

I look behind me and see a huge hippo charging my canoe.

He attacks my canoe tearing it in half and throwing me into the water.

When i come back to the surface all i can see is my supply of wheat biscuits

floating all around me.

But i am worried about the hippo coming coming back.

As i have a look all around me i notice that the wheat biscuits are starting to

break down and turn gluggy.

I try to swim to the shore but the water isn’t water anymore.

Those wheat biscuits have turned the water into quick sand.

I kick and fight with all of my might.

But it is no use.

I soon start to tire with only my nose above the surface.

I have a last breath than i am swallowed on down.

Those damn wheat biscuits were the devil in disguise.

In the back of my mind i knew there was something about them.

They didn’t taste quite right.

And i have paid the ultimate price.

Hopefully you can all make it to my funeral.

Goodbye.

I have become the latest victim of a silent epidemic.

So keep your wits about you and be careful with what you eat

Because there is a killer out there.

A evil cunning cereal killer.

Thanks for taking the time to read one of my stories and now could you please make a donation to help me reach my goal of becoming a fulltime writer. Thanks again Steven.

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My Favourite New Addiction

12 Saturday Nov 2016

Posted by stevenjohnno in stories

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

addiction, darkness, love, prison, stalking, tattoos

This is a story about addictions whether good or bad

both physical and emotional.

The first that i saw you my heart almost exploded from

my chest.

I couldn’t think straight and my palms were all moist and sweaty.

 

I first i thought that i was coming down with something.

But than i realised all that i had was a bad dose of that thing

called love.

I tried to shake it off.

But it really had a hold on me.

I don’t know  who you are or what your name is.

But sparks are exploding and colliding deep in my brain.

Causing a whole lot of pain and friction.

You are now officially my favourite new addiction.

 

I walk around in a daze feeling like i have been hit by a sledgehammer

and a marshmallow at the same time.

My heart is beating at a very fast rate pitter patter pitter patter.

I am finding it hard to think and breathe at the same time.

God i can barely function.

I wander around like a zombie trying to keep it all together.

I am riding a roller coaster in very stormy weather.

 

The second time that i saw you i came out in hives.

You were coming out of the movies looking all cool and sexy

Your hair was flowing in the breeze and your lip stick shone

a bright cherry red.

You are the most beautiful girl in the universe.

Our eyes make contact and the world spun off its axis.

You don’t seem to notice and keep on walking.

Maybe i should forget all about love and take up stalking.

 

If i remember correctly my first addiction started when i was

fourteen

Puberty hit  me hard and i discovered the joy of masterbation

I didn’t realise that playing with your penis could feel so good.

I used to go into my room pull my pants down and go for it.

I would sometimes go into my room about six or seven times a day.

A few months later a local girl took me into the bushes and she taught

me all about sex.

 

My second and third addictions were smoking and drinking.

I was sixteen at the time and i fell to the temptation of peer group

pressure.

I took my first drag on a cigarette and had my first mouthful of beer.

The cigarette made me sick and the beer left me feeling light headed

and drunk.

But i didn’t care i kept going back for more and more.

Another smoke behind the basketball courts and a beer behind the

garden shed.

Two more addictions have gone straight to my head

 

While i was smoking and drinking and fooling around with girls.

I used to listen to my favourite music which was hard rock.

I used to play air guitar and sing very very bad.

 

I am now eighteen and i am laying on my bed naked listening to my

music and thinking about you my favourite new addiction.

I can smell your smell and remember the way your butt moved when

you walk.

How the sun dances through your hair and how my world lights up

when you smile.

But what i really want is to taste your taste

I want our lips to be sealed together forever

To be together until the twelveth of never.

 

As i think about you i start to play with myself and smoke a cigarette

and drink a glass of beer.

Addictions one two and three.

Nicotine and alcohol have part of my life for three years now.

Like two destructive friends they hang around me causing all kinds

of havoc and false emotions

My heart is still beating like a runaway locomotion.

 

All i can think about is you my favourite new addiction

For five months i have wanders the streets trying to find you

Will we ever meet?

Or are we destined to be like two ships passing in the night.

Hopefully the two ships will have a small collision.

And my lonely heart can send out an SOS

Than the harbour master will give us safe passage.

Will we sail to a deserted island full of palm trees coconuts

surrounded by pristine white sand

Or will i continue to fly around in circles and never land.

 

Maybe one day i will finally get to know your name

I will nuzzle your ear and smell your smell

And run my fingers through your hair and taste your taste

My favourite new addiction is almost within my grasp.

You will be the needle that fills me with euphoria

The bullet in the head that puts me to sleep

You can be the razor blade to my wrist

My one and only blood red mist.

 

 

I cant stop thinking about you my favourite new addiction

When i get out i will walk the streets seeking you out.

And when i find you i will once again take up my favourite

pastime stalking.

 

You are the reason why i am stuck behind these prison walls.

All i wanted to do was tell you that we will be together forever

But you kept on pushing me away.

Why couldn’t you be nice and just talk to me so we could maybe

have become friends?

But no you had to call the police and tell them that i wouldn’t leave you

alone.

How could i leave you alone when we are soulmates?

Now you have turned my addiction into a whole lot of hate.

 

Oh by the way since i have been in prison i have got myself another

favourite new addiction.

My body is covered in black ink tattoo’s .

I started with one on my arm but i couldn’t stop and now i am covered from

head to toe in prison issue ink

I lay in my cell all day with nothing much to do.

 

So my mind always goes back to thinking about you my former favourite

new addiction

I cant wait till the day when i am finally released

Will i walk the streets an angry man

Or will i finally find some peace/

THE END

Thanks for taking the time to read one of my stories and now if you could please make a donation to help me reach my dream of becoming a fulltime writer. Thanks again Steven.

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Cereal Killer ( Part Two )

29 Saturday Oct 2016

Posted by stevenjohnno in poems, Uncategorized

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

constipation, decapitation, gross, shit

In part one i told you all about the cereal killers lurking in

your pantry and on the supermarket shelves.

So throw out the cereal in your pantry and leave them on the

shelf.

Because cereal really is a killer.

Part Two

Robert Summerhill is enjoying a rare day off work.

He is employed at the local sawmill but it is good to have some down time.

Robert amazingly still has all his fingers and thumbs attached.

But at the moment he isn’t thinking about work.

He is preparing his favourite breakfast.

A huge bowl of rice puffs.

Robert is 39 years old now and he has had a bowl of rice puffs every

morning since he was five.

He knows that rice puffs are really only for kids.

But he just cant help himself.

They taste so damn fine.

Like a little piece of heaven.

Robert is seated at the kitchen table enjoying his tasty treat.

But he is eating way too fast.

And one of those little rice puffs escapes his spoon and lands in

his beard.

And it burrows in deep.

After washing the dish’es Robert goes about his day.

He runs some errands and has lunch with some friends.

He returns home to mow the lawn before relaxing on the lounge.

After a few hours watching some TV he has something to eat.

Before brushing his teeth and going to bed.

Twenty minutes later there is some movement in his beard.

That little rice puff is on the march.

Slowly it makes its way up Roberts face before entering Roberts

left nostril.

But it doesn’t stop there.

It keeps on burrowing until it pierces Roberts Brain.

In the morning Robert wakes up with a splitting headache.

And a nasty nose bleed.

He takes two panadol and plugs his nostril with toilet paper.

Today is a work day so he sits down to have a bowl of rice puffs

But he isn’t feeling himself today and after a couple of spoonfuls

he pushes the bowl away.

And has a cup of coffee instead.

Driving to work Robert really isn’t feeling well.

His head is still throbbing and his nose is still bleeding.

Plus his right hand is starting to shake like it has a mind of its own.

But Robert isn’t that worried he probably just has some hay fever

or something.

Arriving at work Roberts workmates tell him that he looks like shit

and maybe he should go back home.

But Robert is the only employee with experience on the band saw.

So he decides to stay so all of the orders are filled.

Robert takes a few more panadol and walks over to the band saw and

turns it on.

All of a sudden his head feels like it is going to explode.

He is seeing spots before his eyes and his right hand is starting

to shake again.

Robert feels detached from the whole situation he is there but at the same time

he isn’t

His right hand has now taken control of his body.

Robert is powerless to stop what is about to happen

With one slice his left arm is detached at the elbow.

Than he has another go and his whole arm disappears in a blood red mist.

Robert takes one of his last breaths he climbs up onto the band saw and

severs his left leg at the thigh.

His right leg soon follows in an arterial spray.

All Robert can feel is something crawling around in his brain.

Well there is only one way to fix that problem.

So Robert lines up his head and slowly his body moves towards the razor

sharp blades.

And with one slice his head is separated from his body.

Roberts head lands in the saw dust with a bloody thud.

The band saw is still whirring and whinging.

But Robert doesn’t hear a thing.

Because Robert is dead.

As Roberts head lays there in the saw dust and blood

A little rice puff falls from Roberts nose.

And is blown away on the wind.

Elizabeth Clutterbuck is feeling mighty uncomfortable.

She hasn’t moved her bowels in five days.

The way things are going she want have to buy any toilet paper

for a whole year.

Elizabeth really needs to drop a crap.

And she needs to do it now.

Elizabeth doesn’t understand.

She has been eating all bran since she was a child.

And it has always kept her nice and regular.

But now she is backed up all the way to California.

All she wants to do is sit on the toilet and let nature take its

course.

Elizabeth doesnt know what to do.

She eats ten bowls of all bran everyday plus she drinks five

litres of water.

But still there isn’t any movement downstairs.

Elizabeth is so clogged up she is even contemplating seeing a

proctologist.

But she doesn’t want anyone poking and prodding back there.

So she eat another bowl of all bran to ponder the situation.

Elizabeth is now so bloated and full of gas she is almost floating

on the ceiling.

The only thing keeping her grounded is her weight.

Because she isn’t getting rid of her waste she is really packing

on the kilos.

Last week she weighed 65kg now she tips the scales at 84.

When she looks in the mirror she can hardly recognise herself

Her face is all puffed up and distorted.

She looks like a female elephant man.

Elizabeth decides to stop eating altogether.

Well everything except the all bran.

She will never stop eating her favourite cereal.

But Elizabeth is her own worst enemy.

Instead of having a bowl of all bran just for breakfast

She has a bowl every hour on the  hour.

Her body cant get rid of all that bran

And it has settled in her bowel and intestines like cement.

It isn’t going anywhere.

After eating yet another bowl of all bran Elizabeth goes into the

bathroom and sits on the throne.

But there still isn’t any movement at the station.

She is afraid to look at the mirror.

But she has a quick glance and almost dies from fright.

She now looks like a human beach ball.

Her skin is stretched almost to the limit.

She turns away and rolls onto the bathroom scales.

Yesterday she weighed 84 kg now she is up to 98.

Thirty kilos above her normal weight.

Elizabeth hangs her head and starts to cry.

How has it all come to this?

And because she hasn’t been to the bathroom in eight days

Her house is starting to stink.

Because her waste isn’t leaving her body in the normal way.

It is beginning to seep through her skin.

Her skin is now the colour of a very bad fake tan

Not a good look.

But finally there is some good news.

Elizabeth finally has that feeling again.

You know that feeling when you need to do a shit.

She races to the bathroom.

Well races isn’t the right word because Elizabeth now weighs over

120 kilos.

She sits on the toilet and it starts to buckle.

Elizabeth jumps from the toilet before it breaks.

But she comes face to face with the bathroom mirror.

And she is expanding at a rapid rate.

Her skin is stretched to overload.

Elizabeth doesn’t get a chance to say goodbye.

She just explodes.

Like an over ripe water melon her body flies in all directions

Blood gore and shit cover the bathroom from floor to ceiling

Elizabeth a much loved mother and daughter is the latest victim

of a cereal killer.

People i am telling you now there is a cereal killer out there.

So take care

Beware.

THE END

Thanks for taking the time to read one of my stories and now if you have the means could you please make a donation to help me reach my goal of becoming a fulltime writer. Thanks again Steven.

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Dream The Dream

21 Friday Oct 2016

Posted by stevenjohnno in poems, stories

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

black, dreams, racism, triumph, victory, white

The year is 1966 in the land of the free.

And everything is nice and peachy.

All of the people are living on easy street.

They all own two story houses with central heating

and an in ground pool.

1966 is the year of the dragon.

And it seems also the year of the fool.

 

Because you would be foolish to think that all is well in

the american nation.

Racism is rife all over the country.

But most of the hate comes from the south.

Just because your skin is a darker colour you get treated

like a second class citizen.

Dr Martin Luther King said that he had a dream.

But already the people seem to have forgotten.

The white folks ride around in fancy cars.

While the negro’s still pick the cotton.

 

14 year old Calvin Jackson is a skinny little black kid.

Who lives in a small bungalow in a bad neighbourhood in

Mobile Alabama.

His clothes are clean but threadbare.

Five brothers have worn these same clothes.

Now it is Calvin’s turn.

 

Calvin is watching TV on a small black and white set with his mama

beside him.

A black man has been shot down for no apparent reason.

Except for the colour of his skin.

Another black man guilty of a trumped up crime.

Why does this shit have to happen all of the time?

 

As Calvin watches the news his shoulders start to slump

And his sense of worth crashes.

He cant watch no more.

So he goes outside to shoot some hoops with his brothers.

Calvin weaves and fakes past his brothers time and time again.

Scoring basket after basket .

After a half hour of humiliation Calvin’s brothers wander off

defeated.

Calvin puffs out his chest with pride.

And he dreams about playing in the NBA one day.

If only the white folks would just let him play.

 

At Calvin knows that he should and could be getting better grades

.He used to be an A grade student.

Now all he does is look out the classroom window.

Dreaming his dream.

Calvin knows that basketball is his only way out of the slums and

ghetto’s.

And into the big time.

Than he could buy his mama a nice house.

And get himself a brand new souped up car.

Dreaming your dream is good.

But it will only get you so far.

 

Calvin is dreaming the dream along with other millions of other

young people.

Everybody dreams foe a better life for themselves and family.

But Mobile Alabama along with towns and cities all over America.

Are full of discrimination and segregation.

Whites and blacks go to different schools and ride on separate bus’es.

All because some peoples skin has a darker hue.

Racism affects everybody ordinary people just like me and you.

 

America is the land of the great divide.

A country with very narrow minded views.

There is a big division between the haves and the have not’s.

Calvin knows that because he is black he will have to work twice as hard

as the white folks do.

If he wants to make it in this world.

But Calvin’s mind is full of hope and optimism

He is just dreaming his dream.

He would do anything that he can.

To try and be a better man.

 

Walking home from school a few weeks later.

Calvin comes across the local basketball courts.

He goes to walk right on by like he always has.

But this time he stops and has a seat on a bench.

He pretends to tie his shoe laces as he takes in the game.

One day all of the white homey’s will all know his name.

 

Just than the ball rolls over and stops at Calvin’s feet.

Calvin is stuck in two minds.

Should he just throw the ball back?

Or show all these white boys how to play?

Then the decision is taken out of his hands.

‘Come on nigger show us what you can do’

 

Calvin hates that word but he accepts the challenge with relish.

And for the next hour Calvin completely dominates his opponents.

He scores baskets at will running rings around his helpless foes.

The white boys are exhausted and call an end to the game.

Calvin starts to walk away than turns back ‘I am Calvin Jackson

remember my name’

 

At seventeen Calvin is already six foot tall

And for the last three years he has been his school’s MVP.

His exploits on the court hasn’t gone unnoticed at some of the more

prestigious schools.

After a practice Calvin is called into the coaches office.

He is told to take a seat.

And the coach gets right down to business ‘Calvin you are probably the best

player that this school has ever produced’

But if you want to achieve your dream you will have to move away from home’

And the only way to do this is to gain a full scholarship’

Calvin knows that he cant let this opportunity slip.

 

Calvin’s mind is racing he is thinking about being first draft pick in the NBA.

And playing in the olympic’s with the dream team

The coach is still talking ‘But to get a scholarship you will have to improve your grades’

‘At the moment your grades are very poor,so if you want to reach your goal’

‘You will really have to improve big time,do it now Calvin before it is too late’

‘Because if you don’t you will never ever get out of this state’

 

Calvin walks out of the door.

Will his dream be crushed before it has even started?

Or will Calvin hit the books and really knuckle down?

Well there really isn’t any choose so for twelve hours everyday Calvin

studies hard.

When he is not studying Calvin shoots 20 thousand hoops.

After a few hours of sleep Calvin wakes up and does it all again.

And even though it hurts it is a good pain.

 

Calvin has applied for scholarships at colleges in New York Washington

and Chicago.

But to achieve his goal his grades have to be 90% or better.

For over a week he sits for exam after exam.

Calvin knows that he has tried his best and that is all he can do.

Now all he can do is wait.

And rely on the hand of fate.

 

Back at home he can’t sit still waiting for the results to come back.

He paces back and forth day after day waiting for the postman.

Than one day the postie pushes a bulky package through the front door

slot.

Will the news be good or bad?

Calvin rips open the envelope as fast as he can and he has a quick read.

Than he does a little dance of jot?

92%.

 

A month later Calvin is accepted at Stanford college New York.

He is now one step closer to living his dream.

Playing in the NBA.

Now no one can get in his way.

 

It doesn’t matter if your skin is white black brown red or yellow

Everybody on this earth has a right to dream.

So dream all that you want

Because one day your dream might just come true.

 

THE END.

Thanks for taking the time to read one of my stories and now if you have the means could you please make a donation to help me reach my goal of becoming a fulltime writer. Thanks again Steven.

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Anthill Bill

14 Friday Oct 2016

Posted by stevenjohnno in Uncategorized

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

ant hill, ants, body invadors, eaten alive

It is a dark and stormy night.

And i am laying in bed all alone.

I toss and turn but i cant get to sleep.

My bladder is telling me that it is full.

I can’t believe it i only went an hour ago.

I must have a bladder the size of a walnut.

I really need to urinate right now.

 

I am all bleary eyed as i make my way to the bathroom.

It is a work night so i need to do a quick pee and go back to bed.

So i open my pyjama pants and shake hands with shorty.

It takes some coaxing but eventually my urine starts to flow.

I close my eyes and breathe a sigh of relief.

God it feels like i am pissing a river.

Than i get a feeling that is completely fucked and brain numbing.

 

I open my eyes and look down.

The toilet is completely covered in about a thousand ants.

Little black specks of movement.

I try to move but i am totally transfixed.

I get the shock of my life as those ants start to swim up my Stream

Against the flow.

Just like sockeye salmon that swim upstream to spawn.

These little black ants are on a mission.

I still cant move as i watch those ants swim up the eye of my penis.

I lean into the sink and am violently sick.

 

As i recover i realise that my member is still hanging out.

I go to tuck it back in when i notice one huge motherfucking ant

I almost died right there and then.

That huge black ant was swimming in the last drop of urine near

my pee hole.

I try to shake it loose but it is no use.

That fucker squeezes it way all the way up my urethra

 

The pain is intense as that ant travels the length of my penis.

And i dont like to brag.

But it takes a whole lot of travelling.

Than the pain goes away so that ant reaches its destination.

I realise that that ant must be the head honcho.

The big lean and mighty mean queen.

 

I don’t know what to do as i walk around in a daze.

A thousand and one ants have invaded my body

Is that enough ants to start a colony?

God am i going to be a human ant nest?

I can feel all of the ants moving around inside my body.

They are making themselves right at home.

Like a thousand and one indoor plants.

 

I need to go to the toilet again.

Maybe i can piss those ants back out again.?

But no such luck my stream is ant free.

Than i hear mu alarm sounding off from my bedroom.

Jesus i am supposed to go to work today.

But how can i when my body has been invaded?

I will have to call in sick.

What can i use as an excuse?

 

 

Sorry i cant make it in today my body has been invaded by a shit load

of ants’

My supervisor would get out the butterfly net.

So i ring and say ‘Bill Hamilton here i want be in today because

my pet rock has just died’

There that should do it.

Nothing is wrong here everything is hunky dory.

All is good except for the embarasment and the pee hole pain.

 

i run around in a panic as i contemplate my next move

Than i feel a sharp pain in my ankles.

I lift up my pants and see the ants moving around.around under

my skin.

I feel their mandibles start to chew and saw.

My nerve endings are on fire as those ants chew through tendons and sinew.

I lose all feelings in my lower extremities.

My ankles are now completely useless and can no longer support my weight.

And just like umpty dumpty i have a great fall.

 

Now the ants are crawling all around inside my body.

I can see and feel them under my skin.

I feel them near my nostrils than behind my eyeballs.

I try to scream for help but all i can manage is a feeble croak.

While inside the ants are doing a complete body rearrange.

 

I know that the only change of have to survive is to somehow

make it outside.

I ignore the pain from my throbbing ankles.

And start to drag myself towards the back door.

I make it into the laundry but the fucking door is closed.

I cant stand up to turn the handle.

Maybe if i bang against the door loud enough .

One of my neighbours will come to investigate.

 

God the ants are driving me crazy.

It feels like i am being eaten alive.

I look at the back door but i am still out of reach.

Those fucking ants are now chewing at the back of my neck.

I feel a sharp pain at the top of my spine.

My body is on fire as those ants chow down on my bone marrow.

Than i cant feel a thing.

I am paralysed from the neck down

Man those ants are really going to town.

 

I am now completely covered in ants inside and out.

Only two feet from safety might it might as well be a mile.

My body is no longer mine.

Than the ants start to tear all my clothes off.

And piece by piece they carry it outside.

Five hours later i am left naked on the laundry floor.

The ants crawl in and out of every hole in my body.

As they transform me into a human ant hill.

God don’t these little fuckers ever take a rest?

 

As those ants come back from outside they back back a tiny piece

of mud.

It takes the ants two days to completely cover me.

I am now officially a real life human ant nest.

Every part of my body is sealed except my mouth and arsehole.

My nose is plugged and my eyes are sealed.

Even though i can no longer cry.

I still say a final tearful goodbye.

 

I dread to think what the ants are doing inside of my body.

Will they now use my veins and arteries as a means to bet around?

My lungs would make a good nursery to raise their young.

Maybe they could use my ribs as food racks?

But i know one thing for sure.

And that is the ants will now use my flesh as food.

They will no longer have to go outside to forage.

My body is a living food pantry.

But they better be quick because once i die,

I will start to rot and burst.

 

I now live in a state of suspension.

My body is still in the laundry but my mind has gone somewhere else.

I can feel the ants moving around in my cranium.

God i hope they don’t eat my brain first.

Even though i am now a human ant hill.

I still want to live a little longer.

But i can feel myself getting weaker and weaker.

While the ants are getting stronger and stronger.

 

I feel them chewing and gnawing on my eyeballs.

I am a human smorgasbord.

All you can eat no surcharge.

As long as the ants eat my heart and brain last.

A few more seconds alive on this earth.

But i know that soon my body will start to shut down.

As all of my organs are bisected and digested.

And even though i can’t feel anything.

I still feel mighty sore.

 

I know that once my meat and organs are eaten.

Than by all means and purposes i will no longer exist.

I will be nothing more than a frame.

My skeleton will provide the ants with a human tent.

A custom built brand new home.

Now the ants can start producing babies and honey.

 

My time is almost up my mind is losing focus.

So while i still have a chance i will say goodbye.

I would cry but i cant shed a tear.

I know that sooner or later my body will be discovered

Family or a friend will report me missing.

Imagine their surprise when they find an anthill in the middle

of the laundry.

Or maybe they want notice and take it as part of the decor.

 

I can read my tombstone now.

 

Here lies Bill Hamilton

28/07/1961   –  15/10/16

He died in the shape of an ant hill

May he rest in peace

But he probably never will.

 

THE END

Thanks for taking the time to read one of my stories and now if you have the means could you please make a donation and help me reach my goal of becoming a fulltime writer. Thanks again Steven.

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A Foetus And Me ( Part Two )

30 Friday Sep 2016

Posted by stevenjohnno in poems, Uncategorized

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

creature, evil twin, foetus, mayhem, murder

Part One

In the first instalment we learnt that my name is Brett Stevens

And i have just turned fourteen.

My parents told me that we had to have a talk.

I thought it was that TALK

And now i wish that it was.

What my parents told me came as a complete surprise.

 

 

My father showed me an x ray

It was an x ray of my chest taken a couple of years prior

when i had cracked a rib playing soccer.

I had a close look at that x ray and my mouth dropped open.

For attached to a bottom rib on my right side was what looked

like a tiny foetus.

 

My mother said that it was more than likely the foetus of my

twin brother.

And that when we were developing he died and somehow my body

absorbed him.

 

A dead baby was attached to my rib.

Over the following weeks i became obsessed with that foetus.

I began to rub that rib constantly.

My parents were concerned about my behaviour and they took

me to see a psychologist.

And while i was laying on his couch the foetus erupted out of

my body attached to a umbilical cord.

 

The psychologist jumped back in shock clutching his chest.

And he collapsed to the floor dead.

After doing the deed the foetus crawled back inside me.

 

A month or so after that i was having a bath with the foetus laying

on my stomach.

The foetus told me that when he gets a chance he will kill my

parents so he doesn’t have to share me with anyone.

‘No’ I scream

And that is exactly what the foetus wanted me to do.

 

My parents burst into the bathroom to see what all the noise was

about.

Then they both notice the foetus and before they can scream.

The foetus springs forward with a pair of scissors.

And it murdered my parents.

 

I have had enough so i grab hold of that umbilical cord and go to

chew it in half.

The foetus tells me ‘Don’t do it Brett if you bite the cord both of us will

die”

 

Part Two.

I dont know what to.

But eventually i release that cord and sit on the toilet seat numb with

shock.

I look at my parents laying on the bathroom floor in a pool of blood.

That fucking foetus is going to pay.

I phone the police and wait for them to arrive.

 

But what can i tell them?

That a foetus living inside my body killed my parents.?

They will think that i am crazy.

But it is too late now to back out the police are here.

 

I go to the front door and let them into my nightmare.

Two detectives walk in and i tell them that my parents are dead

in the bathroom.

One of the detectives stays with me while the other  one goes to

have a look.

 

Soon he returns with a bloody pair of scissors in a plastic baggie.

I used those scissors this morning so my fingerprints will be all

over them.

I am told to turn around than i feel a pair of handcuffs close over my

wrists.

‘Okay son what happened here?

I start to tell them all about the foetus inside me.

But i decide to remain silent and i am led away.

 

On the road to the precinct all i can think about is my parents being

murdered by a deranged foetus.

How in the fuck is this happening?

 

Speaking of the devil just than that foetus emerges and crawls up onto

my chest.

Like a new born waiting for his mothers milk.

I am repulsed i cant believe that that evil foetus is part of me.

I look at that murderous piece of attachment.

And the shit hits the diaphram.

I grab hold of its umbilical cord and start to chew.

 

Before the cops notice that i have a reborn reborn companion i decide

to stop chewing.

Glad for the reprieve the foetus scurries back inside me.

And takes its cord with him.

 

I am held in custody overnight

And in the morning i am brought before a judge.

When she enters the courtroom we are all told to rise.

But it is hard to stand when your feet are shackled and your hands

are cuffed.

Plus orange isn’t really my colour.

 

A couple of sheriffs drag me to my feet and judge Coltrane speaks

‘Mr Stevens you are charged with two counts of murder how do you

plead?”

‘Not guilty your honour’

Your plea has been entered you will remain in custody without bail

until your next hearing’

‘If you are found guilty by your peers i will be recommending the death

penalty’

 

What? what ? what?

I haven’t killed anybody i cant stay quiet any longer ‘But your honour

i didn’t kill my parents’

‘My unborn twin brother did it his foetus erupted from my body and he

stabbed them with the scissors’

 

The courtroom fills with laughter and gasps of shock.

The judge has heard enough so she brings down her gavel ‘ Take the prisoner

away for  an immediate psychological examination’

‘This hearing is adjourned’

 

I am led away and taken back to my holding cell.

I cant believe that i am being charged with the murder of my parents.

Surely justice will prevail and i will be found innocent.

 

My cell door opens

And a doctor looking like person walks in and introduces himself as

Doctor Epstein.

And he starts to ask me questions that i dont really want to answer.

His moronic questions seem to go on forever.

I scream at him ‘I am telling you that i didn’t do it’

I lift up my shirt to show him the hole in my side

But there is nothing to be seen.

My skin is free from any sort of blemishes.

There isn’t even a mole.

I cant believe it.

 

The psychologist leans in for a closer look and i scream at him not

to get too close.

 

Just than an umbilical cord comes flying out and it wraps around

the doctors throat.

And the foetus drags him towards the opening.

The doctor struggles for his life but he cant fight off the foetus.

 

The doctors head disappears into my body cutting off his breathing

He continues to fight so i hold his head until he chokes to death.

His bowels release there contents and the cell fills with the smell

of shit.

I kick the doctor to the floor and smile at my partner in crime.

The foetus smiles back he really is my evil twin.

 

The foetus crawls up onto my shoulder until we are eye to eye.

Than we start to sort of meld and weld together until we are conjoined.

We keep on melding and welding until we have become a creature of the

unknown.

 

I hope you enjoyed reading this story.

Keep an eye out for Part Three coming soon.

THE END

Thanks for taking the time to read one of my stories now if you could please make a donation to help me achieve my dream and become a fulltime writer. Thanks again Steven.

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Attic To The Past

28 Wednesday Sep 2016

Posted by stevenjohnno in poems, stories

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

attic, birthday, family, ghosts, heaven, memories, the past

Today is a very special day for me.

It is my 78th birthday.

I jump out of bed as fast as i can.

But it isn’t that easy at my age.

Than i sit at the kitchen and drink a

hot cup of tea.

As i sit there my mind starts to look back

All i have now is half remembered memories.

Well i cant sit here all day.

Maybe someone will pay me a visit?

I will have to make sure that the house is nice and clean

Surely my son and daughter will bring the grandchildren

around.

I haven’t seen them in quite a long time.

The only person who visits is the nice lady from meals on wheels.

I wonder if she knows how lonliness feels?

I go from room to room tidying as i go.

Than i comb my hair and brush my teeth.

And use some aftershave.

Now all i can do is wait.

Hang on was that a knock on the front door?

I rush to open it up but there is nobody there

Just a lot of undisturbed air.

I sit on my lounge and turn on the TV

I need to calm down.

There will be a phone call any minute.

Than i hear a noise coming from upstairs.

It sounded like foot steps up in the attic.

As i make my way towards that upper room

My heart is beating fast boom boom boom.

When i enter the attic all i see is dust motes and cob webs

I haven’t been up here in more than twenty years.

Nobody is up here except maybe some ghosts.

Even though the attic is full of memories.

I am starting to have second thoughts.

Because as you know not all memories are good.

Than i notice a favourite piece of wood.

In the corner near an old possum nest is my old cricket

bat.

I pick it up and start to play some shots.

Than my arthritis tells me that i am not twenty one anymore.

I sit down on an old wooden chest and think back.

And my face does something it hasn’t done for a while.

It transforms itself and turns into a smile.

Near my feet lies an old rubber ball.

That belonged to a neighbours dog that adopted me as it’s owner.

It was old and cranky with a grey muzzle.

But to me Cass was always kind and gentle.

A black doberman Cass was the best dog in the world.

We used to run around and play in the park.

And as i listen now i can still hear him bark.

I hang my head as i think back.

Than i feel a change in the air.

I look up to see the dust motes dancing and forming shapes.

I see my late wife Cindy in her wedding dress

She was always glowing as pretty as a picture.

I start to weep god i really miss her.

About a decade ago Cindy found a lump in her breast.

She fought the best that she could.

But cancer is a really hard disease to beat.

The radiation and chemo took a heavy toll on her body.

And just three months after the diagnosis

My darling Cindy was gone.

Taken by that god awful disease.

With a heavy heart i fall to my knees.

The dust motes are still dancing and mingling with the moon

beams.

And my deceased brother and sister appear.

Greg is riding his motorbike.

While Sue is cuddling her kids.

They are both doing what they liked to do the most.

Greg rode his motorbike into heaven.

And 28 years later Sue joined him in the big sky.

Both of them were taken way too soon.

The dust motes still dance and swoon.

As i look at those dust motes.

My brother and sister sort of fade away.

I want to run into those motes and make them re arrange

How dare those motes take my brother and sister away again.

But i know that one day i will once again see my brother sister

and wife.

Because after death there is life.

The dust has finally settled.

But my memories are still strong.

The attic to the past has stirred up a lot of thoughts.

Memories of long lost souls.

Names and faces that i will never forget as long as i live.

Why do people have to die?

I head back downstairs before i start to cry.

I turn on the kettle and have another cup of tea.

Before my offspring and grand children arrive.

Hopefully they will bring beer and some chocolate cake.

I go and make myself a sandwich.

But as i eat my brain has too much time to think.

I wash my thoughts and dishes down the sink.

Three o’clock and my phone still hasn’t rung.

Maybe my family is stuck in heavy traffic?

Or they are still shopping for my present?

But deep down in my heart i know that they have forgotten

My family will not visit for my birthday.

I will just have to celebrate alone.

There isn’t any birthday cake or candles to blow out.

Nor any presents to unwrap.

So i just lie down and have a little nap.

But i cant sleep.

All i can think about is that attic to the past.

I was happy sitting there amongst the dust motes.

So i go back upstairs to that special room

I sit on that wooden chest but nothing happens

The dust motes and the magic has gone.

The attic is now nothing more than a room full of mould.

I just slink downstairs to my lonely little household.

I sit in my chair watching the sun go down.

Waiting for my TV dinner to cook in the oven.

Than i will have an early night.

Or maybe have a few beers to drown my sorrows

Than headlights appears in the driveway.

My loving family is finally here.

I am really had any doubts.

From feeling way down in the dumps.

I am now way up in the clouds.

And they say that every cloud has a sliver lining.

And even though it is dark.

The sun is surely shining.

Hugs and kisses are exchanged.

And i confess that i didn’t think that they were coming.

That i was just about to go to bed.

My daughter pipes up ‘But dad i told you that we are taking

you out for chinese’

‘So go grab your jacket we have a birthday to celebrate’

‘I have booked a table and we dont want to be late’

The grand Kids are jumping up and down raring to go.

I grab my keys and jacket and head out the door.

Surrounded by my loving family.

But i cant resist one last look up to that attic to the past.

I know that my memories will last and last.

Memories remind you of your yesterdays.

But you cant live in the past.

You have to live in the here and now.

So i close my front door.

And we all head on our way

To celebrate my 78th birthday.

THE END

Thanks for taking the time to read one of my stories and now if you have the means could you please help me achieve my dream of becoming a fulltime writer by making a small donation i would really appreciate it. Thanks again Steven.

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Temporary Tomb (Part Two)

17 Saturday Sep 2016

Posted by stevenjohnno in poems

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Tags

abduction, desperation, escape, hope, killing fields, murder

In part one of this story eight year old Tommy Tucker has been

abducted on his way home from school.

Tommy is the tenth little boy to go missing from the Coffs Harbour

area.

None of the other boys has been seen since.

Tommy has been taken to a farm house in the hinterland.

Where he is held captive in an old mine shaft.

About the same size as a small bathroom.

He is chained by his ankle to an steel pole.

With a small bucket for a toilet and an old lantern hanging on the

wall provides the only light.

Up in the farm house his abductor is staring into space.

He is really hoping that this boy is the one.

For three years he has searching for a replacement son.

He lost his own son to cancer.

And since that time he has been looking for a Simon lookalike.

This boy thought that he could deceive him.

And for that he will die down in the hole.

He looks out to his fields to where he has buried the other nine

boys.

Now he will have to dig a hole for another one.

Part Two.

Tommy has been held captive for three days now.

His abductor has given him very little food.

And only a few cupfuls of water.

And even though he hasn’t had much to eat he has visited the

bucket a few  times.

Now it is really starting to smell.

Tommy misses his mummy all he wants to do is go home.

His abductor isn’t at the farmhouse.

He is out in his car trolling the streets for another Simon.

It has only been three days since he  abducted the boy down in the

hole.

His needs are getting stronger.

But all he has found so far is little deceivers who pretend to be Simon.

Now those deceivers are buried out in his fields.

All except one.

He is just about to head on home when he spots a Simon lookalike up

ahead riding a skateboard.

He pulls alongside the kid and yells out the window ‘Simon get into the car

right now’.

The kid tells him that his name isnt Simon and that he must  be confusing him

for another kid.

‘Get in the car right now i am your father’

The boy notices the crazy look on the mans face and tries to back away.

But he isn’t quite quick enough and he is dragged in through the window

of the car and pushed to the floor.

‘Why do these little deceivers try to trick me ?

‘They pretend to be Simon and force me to do bad things.’

Soon they both arrive at the farm house.

The kid has no idea what is happening as he is led into the backyard

Where the crazy man pulls away a sheet of iron.

And he is told to climb down.

The abductor follows the boy down into the shaft ‘Jesus what is that smell?’

Tommy points at the bucket ‘Sorry mister’

The abductor lets out a curse of disgust ‘For fuck sake i will be right back’

Tommy tells the new kid’Quick climb out and go and get help’

But the kid is frightened out of his wits ‘I cant the crazy man will kill me’

Tommy cant believe it ‘Okay see that lantern over there grab it and bring it

over here’

The new kid grabs the lantern and hands it to Tommy.

Tommy puts the lantern on the floor near them.

But not too close.

He just hopes that the abductor doesn’t notice.

They hear the sound of the iron cover being moved.

Than the abductor appears with a new clean bucket.

But no food or water.

Than he chains the new kid to the pole and leaves without saying

a word.

Thank Christ the whack job didn’t notice that the lantern had been moved.

Because has come up with a brilliant plan of escape.

He grabs the lantern and takes off the glass cover and holds the binding

chain over the flame.

‘God i hope this works’ But after half an hour nothing seems to be happening

Than slowly but surely the chain becomes red hot.

Tommy turns to the new kid ‘When the chain breaks i will go and get help so

just sit tight’

The new kid is hysterical ‘If the crazy man comes back and finds you gone he will

kill me for sure’

Tommy knows that the new kid is right ‘Okay hold your chain near the flame but don’t

get your hands too close’

The abductor has been busy as well.

He is out in his field digging two small swallow graves.

It takes a lot of work but it has to be done.

The sooner that those two deceivers are in the ground the better.

Tommy is keen to make a run for it ‘Quick before the man comes back’

The new kid knows that he is holding Tommy back.

But with a sudden twang the chain snaps.

They both jump up and down all excited now to get the fuck out of here.

They race to the ladder and start to climb.

But than they hear the sound of the cover being removed.

Tommy whispers ‘Quick go back to where you were and hold your hands

behind your back so the crazy man cant see that we are free’

Both boys sit on the ground and try to look nonchalent.

The abductor climbs down the ladder with a bag full of food.

‘I have been to MacDonald’s and bought some burgers and fries

Even the condemned get to eat a final meal’

Than the abductors mobile phone begins to ring ‘For fuck sake what now?

Okay i will be there yes i know that it is important Bye’

Than the abductor notices the lantern on the floor ‘How did that get there?’

Tommy pipes up ‘You left it there when you changed the shit bucket’

The abductor looks at Tommy with steely eyes.

Then he bends and hangs the lantern back on the wall.

And with one last look at the boys he is gone.

Tommy cant believe it.

The abductor has left his mobile phone behind.

Tommy grabs the phone and dials triple 000 and as calmly as he can he tells

the dispatcher who he is and the location as best as he knows.

The dispatcher tells Tommy to put the phone back where he found it but leave

it switched so the police can use it to track there location.

At police headquarters tells detectives Coverdale and Hughes about the phone call.

Finally they have a breakthrough the phone call has been traced to a farm house

in the Coffs Harbour hinterland.

And twenty police officers race to the scene.

At the farm house Tommy and the new kid decide that it is now or never.

So they climb the ladder and push the iron cover aside.

Tommy is surprised to see the daylight he has grown used to the dark.

He and the new kid take in their surroundings and look for the whack job.

Than they race as fast as they can down the long driveway.

At that moment the abductor is looking out to the killing fields.

When he sees the two boys running towards freedom.

And after screaming a few obscenities he takes off after them.

Both boys are only halfway down the driveway when they hear foot steps

behind them.

They have a quick scared look behind them.

And they know that they will never make it.

The abductor grabs both boys by the scruff of the neck and starts to drag

them back towards the farm house.

But than ten police cars turn into the driveway.

The abductor is caught like a deer in the headlights.

To stunned to move.

The police fan out.

And detective Coverdale screams at him to let the boys go.

The abductor knows that he is done for as he looks at the police with

their guns drawn.

So he comes to a decision.

If he cant see Simon in this life he will see him in the afterlife.

He kisses both Tommy and the new kid goodbye.

And runs straight toward the police reaching behind for his gun.

BANG BANG BANG the abductor falls to the ground a bloody heap.

And he has died with a smile on his face.

Maybe he will see Simon again in a better place.

Thanks for taking the time to read one of my stories and now if you have the means could you make a donation to help me achieve my dream of becoming a fulltime writer. Thanks again Steven.

THE END.

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