Shining

eye-catching

sliver light

you fade away

the light goes dark

awaiting stands the afterlife.

The silver light was drawing near

daring yourself

to peek out and see

the silver light

stands bright and tall

flashing lights

shine all along

What other people will fall for traps like this?

Things may not be like they seem

I learnt this quite the hard way

Though silver lights are catchy

perfect

gleaming

captivating...

Sometimes its better to keep to yourself

when harms way can be close to reach.

Make sure you know your boundaries

and silver light will recede.

Me: Siri, please make me a sandwich.

Siri: I’m sorry, I do not have the condiments.

Me (getting angry): Siri, I command you to make me a sandwich!

Siri: I’m sorry, Elie. I do not have the condiments to make a sandwich.

Me (slams down the phone): Siri, I’m done with you! Make me a sandwich or else!

Siri: Elie, why don’t you make me a sandwich?

*awkward silence*

I was nine years old when I murdered my friend, Nessie.

She had died fast, her body thrashing on the ground. I stared, awestruck. The only sadness I’d felt was when it was over. Destructive me.

I was ten years old when I killed Finley. He died the same way as Nessie, his body thrashing on the ground, squirming. It was a really interesting sight. And I've kept it a secret, because I'm pretty sure no one would have liked to hear that I had killed two of my good friends.

Finley and Nessie are buried together. I didn’t have that much space for them, because they were... well, they were really big. I used a shovel to sink them into the ground, and then I prayed for them.

I did the same thing when I was eleven to my other friend, Feefee. She died the same way, and I began getting bored of killing. I went out to bury Feefee that day, but then, my dad my stepped outside.

“Athena, will you take out the gar-” he’d started to say, then stopped when he saw me. His eyes grew big.

I was dragging Feefee out onto the lawn. My dad’s eyes grew even larger, if that was even possible, and his eyebrows bended over so much that they crossed. He looked ready to choke, and I couldn’t blame him. Dragging something takes a lot of effort.

“What is that your carrying?” He asked, his eyes now bulging out of his head. He closed his eyes. “Oh God, tell me I’m dreaming, tell me this isn’t real.”

He told me I had a lot to explain. And I did, later. I told him about Nessie, Finley, and Feefee.

Nessie, Finley, and Feefee.

In my life, I’ve murdered three.

Fish.

_____________________________________________________________________

Title: Murdering three

Genre: Children’s books maybe

Age range: 8-11

Word count: 258 words.

Author name: Elie (just first name for now :) )

Why it is a good fit: I'm not sure if it's a good fit based on what you're looking for, but I just thought this would be a fun contest to enter!

The hook: That the three that the Athena’d killed were fish... instead of humans.

Target audience: Most likely children, I think?

Platform: N/A

Education: Middle School

Hometown: Somewhere in New Jersey

Age: (I originally put my age here, but I think I probably shouldn’t. Anyways, I’m in Middle School- some people call it intermediate school, but they’re basically the same thing to me)

Yesterday is the past

Today is the present

Forever is a mystery

we should use each day

to the best of our abilities

and use each minute wisely

because there's one thing we can't ever buy

and that thing is time.

Love is love.

Though we call each other rude names

or sometimes fight

or yell at each other over the telephone

know that, no matter what, I will always love you.

Forever.

That’s the meaning of love to me.

A sunflower

is a flower

it has petals

like a flower

it has color

like a flower

it needs sun

like a flower

But what it has

that no other flower has

is the energy

to stay happy

wherever they are

no matter how hard

they work

they try their best

with happiness.

So to whoever is listening,

Be like the sunflower.

The light of the world

the opposite of darkness.

I live

And breathe

inside this pink haven

A place where everything seems possible.

A person

outside of here

groans and moans

So much, I wish I could soothe her pain.

It’s hard

to be strong

for someone else.

But I try.

Because anything’s possible, right?

Right.

The Twenty-Second -8:05 a.m.

Thursday – May 15th

As with every morning, ten dozen doughnuts, cereal, milk, and orange juice were delivered to the Twenty-Second, via the van printed ‘Do-Nuts R Us’.

The driver, Eddie, a basically non-descript male, always had a kind word for everyone. He always split the order delivered, half for the first floor, the remainder for the second floor.

Eddie was about as plain looking as it gets. Middle age, maybe forty, with one of those faces you either can’t remember, or want to forget. He walked bent over and had a leg brace attached to his left leg. Eddie was far from dangerous.

Every day when he went upstairs to the Detective’s break room, just as with this morning; he saw the light of his life. She always noticed him. Secretly, he wanted her.

Of course she never saw him in the same way, but that was okay as far as Eddie was concerned.

His fantasy was already working overtime.

“Hello, Eddie.”

“Morning, Mithy Baker. You have a goot day?”

“I’ve had better. What about you?”

“Is early. Ask me later. I know more then.”

Their conversation every morning was practically the same, and both usually had a bit of a smile on their faces. Not so much this time for Baker.

“Mithy Baker, you otay?”

“I’m all right. Listen, Eddie. No doughnuts tomorrow. We won’t be here. You can still bring the same amount for downstairs though.”

“Oh, otay. I will bring no doughnuts to you tomorrow.”

Eddie broke out a piece of paper and a half-used pencil and printed: know do nuts 2 morrow. Will bring do nots tirstday.

He handed her his note.

“That right, Mithy Baker? I want to make sure my boss unnerstands.”

She looked at his printed note and a smile, ever so slight, formed.

“That’s perfect, Eddie.”

“Goot. Mithy Baker, you have a goot day.”

“You too, and be safe out there, Eddie.”

Baker turned to prepare for her meeting with her team.

Eddie, limping as he does, trudged down the steps, out the front door, and back to his van.

No one ever noticed him, except for Baker.

No one ever does, and that’s how he likes it.

The Squad Room – 8:30 a.m.

“You all know the situation. There is still no change in Captain Todd’s condition.

“The viewings will be held this evening at Klegwell’s from six to nine. The actual burial will happen at Klegwell’s, Bellamy, and Morningside. There will be three separate viewing rooms at Klegwell’s. The procession starts at ten-thirty tomorrow morning.

“Make sure your cars are spit-shined and that your dress uniforms are immaculate. We have dozens of other police units throughout the state coming here to pay their respects; so look sharp.

“Otherwise, run your routes as assigned. Andrews, I’m assigning Jack Powers with you. As to Southie, Dill and Carver, it’s all yours on this shift.

“Any questions?”

Ed raised his hand.

“A few of us talked late into the night, and we decided seven of us will give the salute.”

“I don’t see a problem with that. Quite fitting, actually.”

A small, tight-lipped smile came to her face.

“I am honored by your offer. And I accept.”

As. with all the meetings, she ended it by saying, “Be safe out there, and keep our streets safe.”

The First Call - 1:45 p.m.

Baker’s landline on her desk rang twice before she picked up.

“Baker.”

“Hey, kiddo. Sanderson here.”

“Hi, Sandy. Were you able to find out anything good for me?”

“I don’t think so. Through the computer data base, I scanned for a u-r-i and a u-r-e and came up with two u-r-e’s, and seven u-r-i’s. The two u-r-i’s are deceased. Four of the seven u-r-i’s; also deceased. Of the other three; one’s serving time in Chino since 2006. Another lives in California, and on parole for auto theft. The last one lives in St. Louis. Clean seven years. Works for the county sewage system.

“To be honest, I don’t think it’s going to get much better than that. I can still check the micro-fiche data, but you might not hear back from me in about twenty years or so.”

Sandy let out a chortle.

“Thanks, Sandy. Don’t bother on the other. It was worth a shot. Appreciate you.

The Second Call – 2:12 p.m.

“Baker here.”

“This is Bishop Ekerson, Lieutenant. I wanted to call to ask if you received the information you requested.”

“Yes, I did. Thank you. Although it would have helped if there were more names than what I have on my desk right now.”

“I had my secretary of those members we have on file. I’m sorry we can’t help you any further, but if you think of anything else, anything at all, do not hesitate to call.”

“Thank you, Father Ekerson. If something does come up, I will.”

Hanging up the phone, she started in on the names and addresses listed in front of her. The church has over 2,500 members, yet the list only shows eighty-eight.

Perusing the list, she did spot sixteen that are, or were, very prominent citizens of Montie, as well as all of Johnson County.

The rest of her day was spent in front of her computer searching each and every person to see if they may have ever been any skeletons in their closets that could come back to haunt them.

8:17 p.m.

“You do know; you are allowed to leave the building like normal people.”

Baker looked up and smiled a tired smile at Ed.

“I’ve heard there was a rumor going around to that effect. How did it go out there for you and Hinkle?”

“Wasn’t bad. We responded to two traffic accidents, no one injured, just fender benders. Then there was a disturbance call at Piccoli’s Deli, over on Bismark and Seventh. Other than that, one citation for a busted tail light; that was it.

“What about you? You find anything useful?”

“So far I have two retired judges. One near ninety, the other one damn near dead. Neither one appears to have a hidden past. A former city councilman who use to live in Breckridge, moved here about six years ago, and is running his own one-man law firm.

Only thing on him was back in 1990; a hit and run while drinking. He turned himself in, got two years reduced to probation and a thousand hours of community service. Lucky guy.”

“If you say so. What kind of lawyer is he?”

“Criminal.”

“Now that is criminal.”

“Overall, I have eleven people that were at one time or another in public office, or prominent in the community. Other than Danvers, our lawyer, everyone else appears to be clean as a whistle.”

“Maybe, just saying, maybe our boy has run out of people to kill.”

“If that’s true, there’s still one more he hasn’t gotten around to yet, Ed.”

“Don’t let him get to you, Jan. Besides, we won’t let him.”

He came over and sat on the edge of her desk, reached out and put his left hand on her shoulder.

“I won’t let him,” he paused for a moment, then smiled.

“Hungry? I’m buying.”

“Last time you said that, if I remember right, we ended up in bed.”

“No strings, Jan. Just dinner. You need to get away from here and just clear your mind for a while. Tonight, just dinner. Nothing more. Nothing less.”

“And you’re buying?”

“Can do. Will do.”

She reached up and covered his hand on her shoulder.

“You’re on. And maybe, just maybe, we can have dessert later. Let’s go.”

Freddy’s Apartment – 10:19 p.m.

That dirty bastard. He certainly fucked up my plans.

I waited for hours for her to come home. And what happened? He follows her home and goes inside with her.

That just pisses me off. I wanted to savor her flesh. Taste it. Chew on it. Swallow part of it into my being. But that asshole cop, Manning, got in my damn way.

He isn’t part of my plan, but she is. And she will be before too long. I just have to wait a bit longer. There will be other times.

Dammit!

I have this urge to strike out at someone tonight. I have to control myself. Breathe in. Breathe out.

Focus.

I will have her soon enough.

i.

my seventh-grade classmate slapped me with the back of her hand, inked in slurs

and i stood there and let the words become an iron brand on my cheek.

she spits into my food: “sorry to ruin your lunch—wouldn’t want to ruin the taste of dog.”

the words on my face burn hot. i don’t move to rub them away.

ii.

i bet your parents came to america to work in a california nail salon. i bet they probably cleaned my grandaddy’s toes.

actually, my mom arrived in ellis island, and she waved at lady liberty, and i bet she didn’t know that lady liberty’s a filthy snake and a liar

i bet your parents are proud that this great country even allowed them in

yeah, i bet they are. i bet it’s everything my dad imagined when he starved, drifting in the pacific and i bet he really liked being called a yellow gangster and i bet he felt real welcome when he wasn’t allowed in some restaurants and i bet it was way better than his family’s life being threatened by some men in red uniforms back home.

iii.

i wore a face mask in public last weekend and a man told me to bring the chinese disease back to where i came from. i wondered if i forgot to wash off “alien” from my forehead that morning

he spat on me, so i used his spit to rub his slurs off my cheek

he ended up breaking my nose, and i heard the noise of my bones snapping, and it sounded like: “chink, chink.”

iv.

well, i mean, america spits on people like me and 

america spits on people who don’t really behave all that right

and america kinda spits on everything that makes it scared but

i think you know that. i hope you know that.

but it’s just, selfishly, all i can think about is me, and that

america spat on me last weekend. and i don’t really think i liked it all that much.