Just so we're clear, usually what I'm talking about in writing isn't what people think it's about. And 9 times out of 10, the subject changes from about three different people in one post.
And when that doesn't happen, then I'm talking about someone but actually referring to myself.
Don't assume the worst. Okay? Okay.
I've been developing a story for quite awhile now, and the following is just me trying to get inside the heads of two of the characters. It's not at all finished, but I figured I'd post it anyway:
I was murdered.
It was on Halloween, and so cold that I could see my breath. I went to my friend's party, dressed as Minnie Mouse. I thought about going as an angel, but I figured that something was bound to get spilled on the white dress and I just didn't want to go through that. Besides, those wings just looked uncomfortable.
Polka dots are much more friendly.
It was sudden, almost instant. I can't distinguish the time between me sitting, playing with my doll, from the moment I was in the arms of another person, flailing in the air. There was a hand over my mouth that covered half of my tiny face, another hand gripped firlmly around my left thigh.
I was shoved into the bathroom door with a force that knocked it open, and then dropped to the floor. I landed on my wrist, which I didn't really feel until afterwards. My lip was bleeding. I could taste it.
Feet went to the bathtub and started running the water. I looked up, slowly, and saw that it was my mother this time. My pulse slowed a little. At least it wasn't Daddy.
"Clothes off. Now!" She yelled. I had no choice but to obey. I told myself it would all be over soon.
That's all I knew to do. That's how I survived.
I entered through the back door, which led straight into the kitchen. It was completely trashed, cups and bottles everywhere. The contents of the trashcan were pouring onto the floor.
I kept walking towards the music that was blasting from the living room. I passed a side room and caught a glimpse of my boyfriend, Garrett, completely attached to some other girl. A blonde, of course.
I was used to this. I would deal with it later.
It was Ashlea, the brains behind this operation. She was dressed as a vampire, although her costume looked like something straight out of Playboy. It was red and black, with a short skirt and a corset top that showed off her cleavage nicely. She wore fishnet leggings with it and four inch black boots. Her hair was pulled back in a high ponytail and fell into curls that reached her lower back. Her makeup was a little too dramatic.
"Hey, Ash. So what's the word?" I said as we lightly hugged.
"He's here," she whispered. My heart soared.
"How'd you get him to come? He hates parties."
Ashlea smiled. "Sierrah, by now you should know that I am a master of the opposite sex. Now, go find him. I last saw him by the stairs."
I started walking, trying to look inconspicuous as my heart worked overtime. He was here. He was here.
I stood there, absolutely naked.
Mommy turned around and grabbed me by my waist. I didn't try to struggle. I knew what would happen if I struggled. She dropped me into the steaming water. It stung, especially at my toes. It wasn't long until my skin turned blazing red.
I must have winced, because she slapped me hard across my face. "You've got to be tougher than that!" she spat at me. Then she snatched a fistfull of hair and forced me under.