Short Story #2

My Little Demons

Carly

“But we’re sisters, how could you?” I whispered as I stared into my sister’s blank face, I could feel the red hot tears stream down my deathly cold cheek.   She just stood there, not even realizing what she had just done.  She had a problem and desperately needed help; help that I could no longer provide for her.  Everything was all lost from her one decision, her one action, and in that one moment in time she lost everything, including me. 

******************

Alexis

My life was perfect; I had the latest and greatest at all times.  My BMW always shined in the driveway along side my opulent manor that I called home.  Top of the line furniture encompassed every square inch of the ever so perfect floor; I never settled for anything that was below my usual high standards.  

Whenever anyone would come by my house they were always in amazement; however that is everyone except my sister.  Julia is a small town housewife with a few screaming and demanding beings that she calls her children, but I personally would call them thieves.  They took her money and looks away from her, and they do not even have the decency to let her sleep.  Julia says that nothing in the world compares to, or is worth more than the love of a child; however, I adamantly disagree with that statement.  My money and investments outweigh her crying baggage by far. With great enthusiasm, she always whined that I did not need a colossal house or fast car; she says that what I need is a nice and loving spouse, and that a few kids to fill up the space wont impair my lavish lifestyle.  Before I would respond to her deranged comments I would have to stop laughing, and undoubtedly prove her wrong by saying that everyone wishes they had my lifestyle.  It was the same old argument we would have every Sunday morning brunch, and every Sunday she made sure that she reminded me that I do not know what I am missing.  If she only knew what she was missing out on then she would not be as critical of me and my lifestyle. 

Indeed, I suppose that I should regret missing out on the seemingly never ending soccer games and the obnoxious parents screaming at the underaged referees for causing their tenacious child’s incessant whining about gameplay leading them to non-stopping pouting.  The numerous appointments I would have to make with my doctor to remove the deeply engraved worry lines from my forehead in order to look my age is what I am told that I am missing out on though.  However, I just let my poor old sister tell me whatever she wants because I know that it makes her feel better about the poor decisions she has made in her life; the same decisions that she considers the highlight of her existence. 

“Hey Alexis!” my sister shouted has she approached the doors to my house one Sunday morning for brunch.  

“Oh great, you brought the children,” trying to hide my sarcasm I responded to her forced cheerful hello.  She managed to miss my comment, thankfully, as she was too busy trying to walk up the stairs with her kids clinging on either side of her; she could always read right through my words no matter how hard I tried to mask them.  Not wanting to wait in the cold any longer I walked down the stairs and yanked a kid off her right leg and secured it under my arm to bring it through the threshold to make this whole process move faster.

“Thanks hun, I would have never made it without freezing first,” she laughed under her breath as we entered the hallway.  “I wanted to ask you a favor,” she stated from under her eyes that peered up at me, “the kids make the best pathetic looking faces in the world so you may attempt to listen to me.  I bet that if I can get them to smile you might oblige to my request.”  She finished her roll of sarcasm with a twinkle in her eye of a completely devious plan; such sarcasm is only used as a detour from the actual question in normal circumstances.

“Okay, let me have it; this sounds time consuming already.”

“I would really appreciate it if you would be willing to play with my little demons this coming Saturday,” she chuckled at her own witty statement; while I found it to be right on the mark as far as her little demons are concerned.  I paused for a minute, mostly for suspense, I knew that I was her last resort, because otherwise she would not have asked me due to my lack of motherly instincts.  

“Fine I will, but you know my rules; if they break anything your replacing it one way or another.”

“Okay, I get the hint; I promise they will behave.  Though, you should probably remind me to drug them beforehand to put them right to sleep,” she muttered to herself as she walked towards one of my many eating areas.  With that last statement I was condemned with a task worse than death; the task of babysitting.

******************

Preparing my house for the demons to roam about in is slightly short of a miracle in my opinion.  Literally, glass covered most of the surfaces, and in my new eyes of a substitute parent that is one big disaster waiting to happen. 

As the doorbell rang I bounded down the twirling staircase, eager to see what is to come of this night.  This past week I had time to contemplate this situation, and I came to the conclusion that this should not be that bad, mostly because the demons can barely speak in a coherent fashion.  

“Hey Alexis!  Look whose here!” she said with such enthusiasm, as if I did not know already. “Are you mentally and physically prepared?” I am assuming that she is questioning my competence within her words of sarcasm.  Before I had time to configure any witty comeback she shouted at me, “Well, too late now!” as she skipped down my steps in a speed that a women wearing four inch heels should not be able to reach without stumbling over.  She should have consulted me over her choice in footwear due to my expertise because those stilettos scream blisters at me for the event she is attending. 

Closing the door behind her, I pivoted towards the awaiting eyes that stared into my soul.  Gazing into their baby blues I felt something inside myself, it just hit me with a force that would knock most people over.  I do not know what it was, but it overcame me in an instant.  I imagined my ideal family. How perfect these darlings would look in miniature designer fashions as they impressed their classmate’s parents with their fluent speech and manners. Of course the best private institutions are where they would be attending. I would expect nothing but absolute perfection and the little cherubs would adoringly comply. This is want I want; this is what I am going to have.

******************

Carly

I hope she managed not to strangle my kids; maybe they actually bonded. Who knows?  It would be an absolute miracle if a parenting instinct procured in her; she would make an incredible mother if she only learned that money was not everything.

The lights are on, that is a good sign; it means that she is not out back burying them at least.  I dreaded walking up all of those stairs; my feet felt as if they were going to fall off.  As I approached the house, I heard something very odd, they were giggling.  Her front window was slightly opened; not wanting to ruin her bonding time I decided to just sneak a peak through the opening and wait a little longer.  I cannot believe what I saw, the look in her eyes was bloodcurdling; I had to get inside immediately. 

******************

Alexis

The door whipped open with such intensity.  She was back, and was going to take away what I now most desire.  I wanted to keep them all for myself; she does not deserve them anymore.  They were no longer my demons, they were my angels.  Quickly I took out what I have always hid under the sofa in case of an emergency.  Running towards my angels with open arms was more than what I could bear.  They were now mine, not hers, she had to go.

It happened so suddenly that I can hardly remember.  First there was a scream, and then there was a dead silence.  All I remember is the last of the words she spoke, and they play in my mind over, and over again, “But we’re sisters, how could you?” 

Critique #2

 “The Greed, Monumental Painting”

 G. Nagy 

Oil on Canvas

G. Nagy expertly depicts one of the seven deadly sins, greed, in this painting titled “The Greed, Monumental Painting.”  When one looks very closely at the image the blurs of people form into sharp, distinctive characters of men in the business world.  In the center is located the devil himself condemning a greedy business man that has been stripped of his clothing as well as his dignity.  Surrounding them is crowds of many avaricious beings that are seemingly waiting for their turn for the devil to decide their fate.  The intention of the artist is to show that those who have shown cupidity throughout their years will end up in purgatory upon their death.  Furthermore, it is more astonishing is how the artist portrays the men on the staircases in their extravagant suits continuing business transactions despite that those exact actions have led them to this point of trial.  Three of the men are shown falling from the staircases onto the crowd of other beings concluding that their trial is coming soon, because once they reach the end of the staircase they get thrown off to join the rest of the men.  This painting has many interpretations based on the formation of the image’s content that Nagy careful illustrated. 

Nagy’s choices in hues coordinate with the event that is shown.  The very dark value concludes that the image is extremely intense, and the shades of red and orange strengthen the image greatly.  Most associate sins with Hell and fire which is exactly what is brought to the painting.  The lack of colors other than reds and oranges make the image obscured to those who are not up close to it; however, the complexity of it along with the uncertainty draws the viewers attention to it.  Depending on how one views the image, the bright red devil holding a sickle is the center becomes the focal point of the painting indicating that the humans are indeed located in Hell.  The subject matter is balanced throughout the centered composition bringing one’s eye to look at the painting as a whole.  The two clouds of fire in the background signify once again that the painting’s setting is in a land of purgatory.  The content and colors that were chosen for the image is well justified, and appropriate giving deserved acknowledgement towards the artist.

Many take greed lightly, or without care, however, this image shows the needed dramatization of the consequences of one of the seven deadly sins.  Avaricious is not easily avoided, and those who chose to act on their desires are justly punished by the devil himself, as the artist depicts.  Nagy’s representation of avariciousness is well portrayed in “The Greed, Monumental Painting.”

David Hockney Assignment

My Other Half

I am you, and you are me,

We will be together eternally.

The same smiling grin we share,

Is something very difficult to compare,

Because even though we smile the same,

We will never share the same name.

I have the straight, light hair,

While your dark curls are very rare,

But together we form wavy lines

that will never cease to shine.

What sets us apart is our eyes,

That contain our hidden lies,

But behind all of the stares

Is somethings we undoubtedly share.

We tend to finish each other’s phrases

In ways that leave most dazed.

But you always are the optimist,

While I bear the burden of a pessimist.

You are my definite other half

and we have shared countless laughs,

All until the very end

we will share a bond that will never bend.

I am you, and you are me,

We will be together eternally.

Short Story #1

The Devil Herself

“Murdered! What happened? Who killed him? Where was he found? Who found him?” the questions just rolled off my tongue, and from the look on the officer’s face, I knew he did not have a clue to any of the answers.  This piece of news came to me from a frightened officer as I was getting out of my car for my morning shift, and shocking news does not normally come to me until I have had at least walked into the building and had my cup of coffee, so I knew that I was needed, and needed now. I was not surprised when he next said, “I don’t know what happened, but it is your job to find out what happened to Harold, and find out fast.”

I have been traveling in screaming cars for my entire career; going to a new crime scene each time.  It never occurred to me that I would ever have to drive up to the Chief’s mansion to figure out who brutally murdered him.  As I approached the gates of his never ending driveway, the officer who accompanied me had just finished briefing me on the whereabouts of the chief, and the people that I was going to have to scrutinize in order to configure the events of this murder.

“Oh boy,” my sigh seemed to provoke the inexperienced officer to ask me why I was sighing, and if it was any other circumstance I would have thought this one a fool, but I was sighing because the possible suspects, the people very close to the chief, were just standing outside the mansion indulging in a smoke or a drink while laughing and joking. “They all look guilty to me.  Not one of them looks like they have shed a single tear over the loss of the Chief!  How can they just stand over a dead body and laugh!” as I began explaining my earlier remark to the officer I became more enraged.  

At this point, I deeply regretted being one of the best detectives in the state, because now it is my job to find out my best friend’s killer.  The first 24 hours after a murder are the most crucial in finding evidence and identifying possible suspects, so now it was my job to interview the pompous family members just standing around like nothing happened.

Furiously, I grabbed the man closest to me and stormed through the familiar carved doors into the library.  I did not expect the man to just crumble in weakness, and oblige to my orders; he seemed smarter than that, almost too smart.  Living in his own filth, seeming to be wearing the same clothes for a week is the first thing I noticed about him, besides his oder.  Noticing his instability, I was careful to keep my rage elevated to the maximum in order to get as much information out of him as necessary; he seemed like the type to squeal on anyone.  

“Professor, where were you in the last 24 hours?” as the words came out I was practically shouting at him.  Before he answered, he promptly scooted his glasses from the tip of his nose, and quietly stated, “Well, sir, I was here, at Harry’s house, in this very room to be precise.”  The calmness in his voice made my anger even worse, so in return I asked harshly, “What happened when you last came in contact with Harold?”  Blinking his eyes behind his thick bifocals in a way that made him seem oblivious to the murder made me very suspicious of his behavior.  “Well, if I can remember correctly, he seemed quite agitated with me last night before bed.  He consistently scowled at me, claiming that I need to clean up my act.  Like most of our squabbles, he reminded me that I should be the one looking after him, not the other way around; then he just turned away and walked towards the kitchen...where Desirée was.”  The devious look on his face told me that he knew more than what he was letting on.  Desirée was someone that I was not familiar with, and I proceeded to ask more questions but was interrupted by a knock that echoed through the cathedral room.  “Speak of the Devil,” the professor whispered under his breath, using a tone that made me presume he was not fond of the mistress leaning in the doorway.

Wearing a provocative red dress that slitted up to the middle of her thigh was the Devil herself.  Her eyes gleamed towards my direction in a luring way, that for an instance, made me forget about the current circumstances that surrounded me. 

“My, my sir, what kind of stories has this professor been telling you?” Her voice sounded innocent, yet threatening towards the now shaking man.  She was holding what appeared to be video tapes behind her back, and my curiosity got to me.  “You can leave now professor, but don’t go far, I want to speak to Desirée now.”  Just like a mouse, he scurried out of the room with only a slight squeak that escaped his tight lips.

Slowly, seductively, she glided forward and slid on the top of the desk in front of me, crossing her legs over to one side.  I could smell the sweet perfume that emanated from her bare skin.  Like a cruel angel, she whispered, “I know what you want,” and placed the tapes in my hands.  I did not want to look away from her face, but the tapes felt like they were on burning in my hands.  The labels on them read, “SECURITY CAMERAS.”  I was baffled; I had no clue that the Chief had security cameras around his house; this changed everything.

“Now don’t think me a fool Captain, those are just the copies.  You know as well as I do what is on those tapes, and what importance they have.” I could feel my blood turn cold from her icy words; she knew what she was doing.  Circling her delicate fingers around the tops of my hands, chilling to the touch, her alluring voice continued, “I want to make a deal with you.  I will be a good girl and keep this secret of yours, only if I get what I want in return.”  Her eyes now where looking up at me, blinking ever so slowly, “Within the next 24 hours you will continue your ‘search’ for my Harold’s killer.  After that, you will release a statement declaring Patricia his murderer.  No one will ever doubt that the inheritor of millions did not kill him, leaving your tracks clean as a whistle.  It also does not help her that she was the only one, besides me, who had knowledge of these tapes, and everyone will assume that she hid them to protect herself and her assets.”  As she spoke her barbaric, yet ingenious plan, I had not figured out what she wants exactly.  Why was she helping me and not Harold?  “What do you want in return, as I am sure that is not all,” I stated in defeat.  Her eyes lit up with a certain victory in them, “Well, I presume the only reason why old Harry is dead is because someone wanted his job.” Her piercing green eyes burrowed into mine, “Since the new Chief has the power to tamper with Harold’s will, he may mistakably put down that Desirée Montella is to inherit his estate if anything happens to go wrong with Mrs. Patricia Golden.”  She had me cornered, I had no choice but to comply, and make sure she got precisely what she wanted.  I had to think of something fast, and my fury boiled in me as a spat out, “Why should I trust you? How do I know you will keep this a secret?  Why shouldn’t I turn you in?” I was getting very angry that I had been beaten, but my stubbornness kept me trying to salvage my dignity by finding a hole in her plan.  “You know what? That’s exactly what I am going to do!  I am going to turn you in right now!”   I was almost giddy with my new found plan.

I had not expected her to do what she did next.  She smiled her sly, yet gorgeous grin, as she leaned forward on the table, getting closer to me.  Her full lips were now mine, and she whispered, “No you won’t.”  Abruptly she got off the table and turned towards the door to head out of the library.  When she was at the doorway, in the same stance she was in when she entered the room, she turned and looked at me with those eyes of hers and laughed the laugh of the Devil.  She had me. She knew it.  She won.