Magpie 29

This is a prompt from Magpie Tales .

Hidden by trees, by shrub, by forrest is a little old cottage that sits peacefully in the summer sun. It's old style and the young owners that took refuge in it a few years back have no idea quite how old their isolated home is.

Inside stands a woman at her kitchen bench preparing some food. The only sound is that of the knife quickly tapping the chopping board. She's relaxed in the comfort of knowing no one shall find them out here. Her husband and herself that is. Deep down she knows one day they will be found. That someone will probably recognize them when they are on their occasional trip into town or they'll plan to cut down the rainforest that stretches for miles before getting to their cottage and discover them. The woman reaches for the lettuce and begins to cut it to pieces just as contently as before. She seems to be the most carefree woman in the world despite her circumstances. But then again, she's spent two years pushing the thoughts aside.

Magpie 28

As the warm water relaxes my muscles, my mind too falls into a state of relaxation. Words flood in and out, trying to chose the right ones. That cheating beast. How dare he chose her over me! 5 whole years of my life wasted. I'll be sure to mention that to him.

I wriggle my black toe nails that I painted the night before. He had been sitting there on the lounge, watching one of those crime shows we both loved. The woman had found her boyfriend cheating and he murdered her when she confronted him. Though there should be know faith left in my husband I know he would never have the guts to murder someone. He murdered my heart though. And mabey that's just why I raced home from the cafe where I saw him with that stupid slaggy prostitute of a woman. Her hair down to her bum and her skirt hardly covering it. He hadn't seen me catch him out and so I guess that was why deep down I was excited for his arrival. To accuse him, to yell, to cry. I was trying to flood the anger out of me, to have it poor down the drain with the rest of the dirtied water. But I'd want it back for me to put up a good aguement. He had broken my heart. There was no stopping my show.

"You dirty pig! 5 years down the drain! 5 years I could've spent with a better excuse for a man!" I said the words aloud, let them sit on my tongue. I closed my eyes and sunk down into the warm water. Bringing myself up, my freshly cut hair flowed behind me. I remember getting it cut the other day. Meeting up with him for lunch afterwards.

"You look absolutely beautiful!" he said. He had sounded sincere and I had to admit the new look did suit me and it was very sweet of his flattering but I wasn't all that confident. He always made me confident. I could look like an absolute wreck and he'd still proudly hold my hand. In the park, on the beach, out at dinner. Oh, I remember just the other night. We'd dressed up all fancy for our reservation at an expensive restaurant but they stuffed up and overbooked. We kind of just shrugged our shoulders and walked down to the beach. There we sat on the limestone wall, him in a smart suit, me in an expensive dress, laughing as the sun went down.

All the memories came flooding back and I didn't feel too good.

"It's just the bath, the hot water, going under," I convinced myself aloud. I wriggled my toes again. Ready to show him how heartbroken he'd left me. Excitement built up in me as I pulled the plug on the bath, the water flowed down the drain and I heard him come in the door.

Magpie 25

This is a picture prompt from Magpie Tales

Yes, it's rusty and I know there's a crack here and there.

It's been touched and used and also loved.

I know that my heart may be old but you will always have the key to it.

Magpie 23

This is a picture prompt from Magpie Tales

The memories in my mind, the visual as clear as if it was just yesterday.

I still cry sometimes.

Mostly late at night, when I lay in bed, thinking about everything, mostly you.

My heart aches for you.

It aches because you're gone, it aches of sadness and emptiness and guilt too.

Two disasters that night.

One greater than the other.

First the power is lost and then you.

But it didn't happen that way, that simply.

Quite unfortunately.

The fire alarm went off.

It took it's time to detect the smoke that started off from such a small candle.

But luckily we had the smoke detecters.

Otherwise Jon might not have made his way out in time.

And I probably wouldn't have too.

But then again, maybe that would've been better.

Maybe then I wouldn't have to live with this guilt.

So the ringing woke me and Jon up.

I was so scared.

The fire had begun in my room and stretched right down the hall through the house.

Right up to your end.

Jon woke you up, after much pushing and shaking.

He tried to help you out the window but you ran through the house, through the fire to my room.

You should have listened to Jon.

I was out my window.

I had already climbed out.

That's what he told you I would have done.

So, why didn't you listen?

Why didn't you save yourself?

You had said to me to go to bed.

I told you I wanted to read.

I told you I wasn't tired.

And you listened to me.

But I didn't listen to you.

You told me to put out the candle before I went to sleep.

But the book was very good.

And I read until I grew so tired that I eventually just fell to sleep.

My window had been open and the breeze blew the flame to the curtain.

Setting it up in scary, red flames.

I should've listened.

But you should've listened.

We all should've listened.

But it started with me.

And ended with you.

Unfortunately, the fire ended you too.

I waited outside.

Shivering in my night gown.

A firefighter told me to stand by the truck.

And they used big hoses to try and put out the building that stood there in flames.

I watched Jon climb out the window.

And a smile spread across my face.

Relief spread through my body.

I could just imagine you climbing out after him but you didn't.

"Help!" Jon came over yelling.

"My wife is stuck in there. I couldn't get to the fire extinguisher, it was past the flames in the front room!"

"It's okay, sir!" he shouted and signaled to some others.

"She went after her daughter!"

That's when he saw me.

At first he looked upset, and despair was all over his face.

But then he ran over and he hugged me.

He hugged me tight and for a long time.

As if I was his own daughter.

Even though he knew his wife was in the house, that was up in flames.

Together there, as we were tight in each other arms we cried.

I'm sorry my mother.

I love you.

And I miss you.

Scary Movies-Resulting in Ninja Behaviour

Scary Movies. Love 'em, hate 'em, I'm sure everyone's seen at least one scary movie in their life. I for one, am not a fan but I tend to find myself watching them when it's the choice of my friends. Even watching them during the day doesn't do it for me. I usually end up holding someone else's hand, missing half of the movie because I refuse to look when I can sense something frightening is coming and I am usually absolutely terrified for the days that follow. Scary movies in the past have had their short-term effects and long-term effects as well, such as acting like a ninja through the house in the middle of the night to the toilet. I'm more a comedy girl. I enjoy movie's that'll make me laugh and with lines that last for ages of repeating. But I guess Scary Movies are like pickles in hamburgers from HJ's for me. I don't like them but sometimes I just have to grit my teeth and eat them.

So what do you think? Do you like Scary movies or Thrillers? Or do you prefer the funnier sides of things in Comedies like me?

It was a beautiful and sunny day outside but Jon Heath was inside the Macdonald Residence painting the ceiling of their large dining room. He was all set up in his hat and white overalls with a blue t-shirt underneath. He stood on a tall ladder that sat upon a large white sheet in case any of the paint dripped down onto the floor. Next to the ladder sat his radio that he always took to work with him to keep him company and his lunchbox. He often found himself whistling to the songs as he painted. The Macdonald family had gone out for a picnic in the park to enjoy the beautiful weather so Jon was the only one at the large house besides a bored little dog called Rusty.

Rusty was brown and white and often quite a playful dog. The family had planned to meet up with another family that weren’t too fond of ‘friendly’ pets and they also had a son severely allergic. So the family had decided to leave Rusty at home that day much to the children’s disappointment.

When Rusty woke up late because no bubbly or loud children had, he wandered through the seemingly lonely and empty house. That was until he headed downstairs and heard Jon’s music and whistling. He ran into the room through the slightly open door. Jon didn’t hear him come in and carried on with his whistling. Raymond Macdonald was a whistler. He always used to, especially when he gardened so Rusty didn’t find the whistling strange but more the strong smell of the paint. He barked a few times and this caught Jon’s attention.

“Oh, hey little doggie,” he said. When Rusty was satisfied he had been noticed he began to sniff around the room and Jon went back to his painting and his whistling.Rusty couldn’t find the source of the horrible smell that burnt his nose so he gave up and curled up next to the end of the white sheet. The ladder which sat at the other end of the sheet had proved Jon steady over the years but was about to take a huge turn around. Rusty had always been a playful dog and more or less a mischievous one. He grabbed onto the end of the sheet and prepared to pull.

The Stray Friend

I was walking to school and I saw a stray dog. It had no collar and it was very dirty. My mum had told me about dogs like that. "Infested with diseases, dirty beyond imaginable, aggressive and hard to train." Plus my parents had never really been fond of pets. It was crying, like a sort of moaning. It was laying on the sidewalk and it was shivering in it's thin coat. I walked over to it and patted it on the head. Pulling my school bag off my shoulders I placed it on the ground and pulled out my sandwich. For five minutes I sat there with the dog that I had already nicknamed Susie because it was the name I wished my parents had named me. For that five minutes I rubbed all up and down Susie's back to warm her up. I couldn't risk being late so I left her there on the sidewalk with the last few crumbs of the sandwich I'd given her and headed to school.

I arrived at school to find Jonathan Turner and William Welders by the gate. They were sitting down and were attacking people with spit balls.

"Oh look! Here comes Freckle Face!" They called. They attacked me then with their spitballs but I just turned the other way and ignored them. I didn't want to make them feel like they'd defeated me, that they'd hurt me or upset me. Although they already seemed to have made that assumption.

"Now she's going to go crying to all her friends! Oh wait! She has no friends." They laughed their heads off then and high fived several times.

"Except for the one that looks like a rat!"

And as much as I tried to ignore them and not let them get to me I failed. My eyes watered but I pushed them back and headed to the bathroom. I stood there and stared into the mirror. I pulled some of my hair nearer to my face to try and hide them but again i felt like I failed. So I just tied it back and told myself I didn't care what they thought even though they'd made me feel really self conscious of my freckles. I heard giggling and a group of girls from my grade walked into the bathroom. The type of girls that wore their skirts so high it was a belt and the sort that were as horrible as Jonathan and William. I kept staring into the mirror at myself, even when they walked in behind me and pulled their fingers through their own hair. One pushed me out the way with her elbow and washed her hands. I stormed out and I heard them giggling once again after I left.

The bell was rung and I waited outside my first class. Everyone was standing around loud and rowdy. Melissa walked up to me. She was wearing a bright red headband that was hard to miss.

"Hey," she said, "How are you?" I shrugged my shoulders. I suppose she guessed that meant I wasn't really in the mood. I turned towards the door and the other students turned away and laughed. I wondered what was so funny and came to the reality they were probably gossiping about me. This upset me even more than it should since I had never given anyone at this school a reason to hate me. Probably because I was a pretty easy target. I was ugly, not the smartest person, usually quite clumsy and Melissa says the stupidest things really loud sometimes.

"I liked your kick in PE," one of the girls said deliberately loudly. I stared down at my feet. Like she was perfect at PE!

"Your so much of a suck up in Science! That's crap you came up with that idea alone!"

"I did!" I said. Everyone at this point had turned around and was looking at me. My eyes started to sting as they prickled with tears. I pushed them back as hard as I could but I felt them coming.

"Sorry? I couldn't hear you!" she said, tormenting me. Everyone laughed at something that was hardly even funny. Melissa put her hand on my back but I shrugged it off. Couldn't she see this wasn't the time. She was only going to make things worse. I felt the tears coming through and again I fought them hard.

"Her hair would look so good if she had a shower once in a while!" her friend said. Now that was hardly true at all. I had a shower every single day. The fury built up inside me. Why are they doing this? The tears came spilling out and I turned and ran away. I heard them laughing behind me but I didn't care. I just kept running and running. It was until I reached an alley.

I sat there with my face in my hands. Crying my heart out. I was offended, humiliated and scared. I don't know how long I sat there in the alley. But no one bothered me and that was fine. It was at least a couple of hours. I drew pictures in the dirt with a stick and threw stones against the fence opposite to the one I leant against. My eyes were tired and sore and i sat there resting them closed. I heard footsteps and my heart started pounding. I looked around alerted and rested my heart when i saw who it was.

"Susie," I said, "Come here girl." I waved her over and she laid down next to me. Then Susie put her paw on my hand. It hurt at first, pushing my hand into the stones and grovel but then I realized something. She was my friend and she could sense when I was sad. I smiled at her as she rested her head down on her paw. Stroking her head and kissing it I told her about my problems. About the pretty girls and tormenting boys at school. About my parents always fighting and my grandparents dieing and having no one to talk to. Until now.