Overblown

            It started with a handshake. Two hands from opposing genders, gliding into one another, griping on tight, and moving in sync. That’s all it took for the rumor mill to fly into action with that week’s new propaganda against Ophelia and Oscar.

            Some said they were friends, some said lovers, some said enemies. The truth was, they didn’t know one another at all. The handshake was just a formal greeting, an introduction. Their eyes shining at one another and the ‘blush’ on Ophelia’s cheeks were also imagined things. Their eyes glassy from the liquor, and Ophelia a little too tipsy to drive that night, were all things that were overlooked when everyone recalled how they looked that evening when they first met. When she was introduced to him by a mutual acquaintance so that she would be able to get a ride home, no one noticed how drunk the other was.

            Liquor was a landmine waiting for the pressure. On the streets, racing through street lights and growling down open roads, it was a miracle that both had made it home safely. Hours later, in the morning when children were running off to school, the two would read the papers and see their faces, a report on false romance just to turn up the heat.

            Ophelia would be offended, Oscar would scoff in disgust. The two would never see each other again.

Operation

Side note: I'm uploading this story earlier, because I will have no time to do it tomorrow. So enjoy!

                Ophelia lay on the table, her body numb. Her eyes blinded by the bright light shining down on her. She could hear voices in the distance, unrecognizable in her dreary state. She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. She was conscious, but the rest of her body was not. She closed her eyes trying to remember where she was or what was going on. The last thing she remembered was flying in that plane with Douglas. She remembered looking at Douglas, his eyes full of fear and the unknown. She remembers screaming and the feeling of falling. Soon she found herself drifting away into the black unconscious.
                “We’ll still need to run more tests, but it seems she’s in a stable condition. Things will be much different now and she’ll need to learn to work with her new installments, but I believe she is going to be just fine.” Ophelia overheard someone talking next to her. She tried to make sense of what they were saying, but then she heard a familiar voice answer back.
“I…I..Just don’t know Doctor…I mean no one is going to treat her the same. She’ll be an outcast!” This voice was her mother’s. She tried to open her eyes, her eyelids felt so heavy. She could barely open them to a crack. Her mother was standing at the side of her bed crying.
“Listen Cecil, I know this isn’t what you wanted. But this is the only way to keep her alive.” Ophelia slowly opened her eyes more until she could finally see where she was. She was in a hospital bed.
“M-mom?” She spoke her voice frail. Her mother snapped her attention to Ophelia her face lighting up with relief. “Oh OPHELIA! My baby!!” Her mother hugged her.
“What happened?” Asked Ophelia. Her mother wiped away the new tears that fell from her eyes.
“You..were in an accident honey.” Her mother said. Ophelia sat in shock before swallowing the lump in her throat.
“An Accident?” Hearing it out loud made her remember. Tiny memories began to flood their way through her mind. She remembered how Douglas had grabbed her and held her tight as the plane fell.
“DOUGLAS!” She yelled. “Oh my god, Douglas is he..is he.” As Ophelia’s heart beat quickened she felt something different stir inside her. Almost like a mechanism. Suddenly tiny red letters flashed across her sight warning her to calm down. She screamed before sitting up in a panic. “What the hell?!”
The doctor grabbed her shoulder and steadied her. “Hang on Ophelia..just hang on. You half to calm down or your circuits will overheat.”
“MY WHAT?!” She was completely hysterical, everything was piling up and she became more and more confused. More tiny red letters flashed in front of her eyes cautioning her.
“Ophelia please! You half to calm down. If you don’t calm down your data chip will overheat and your brain will go into shutdown mode.” The doctor tried to explain, but the words just didn’t make sense to her. He was talking to her as if she was a computer. Her mother held her hand and tried to soothe her.
“You’ve undergone a serious operation Ophelia. After your accident it was clear you need certain installments to help you stay alive. You were in very critical condition. But we managed to save you by installing the latest Circuit System.” Ophelia could have sworn the floor collapsed beneath her. Her heartbeat only managed to get more erratic as the realization dawned on her. Circuit Systems were computer integrated parts for Cyborgs. There were only a dozen Cyborgs living in her town and now she was one of them.
“I’m….I’m a cyborg?” She asked. But before her mother or the doctor could answer Ophelia pushed her way onto the floor trying to stand. She could feel the metal exoskeleton in her left leg and her right leg was completely metal. “You let them turn me into a monster.” She said to her mother. Her mother began crying again. “I’m sorry..but I couldn’t just let you die. Not when there was a chance to save you. I couldn’t lose my baby girl.” She said.
“Ophelia you must be careful, you haven’t fully trained and prepared yourself for your new installments.” The doctor spoke trying to lead her back into the bed. Ophelia’s mind swarmed with confusion and hurt. She was a monster now, and outcast like the rest of the Cyborgs. Her friends wouldn’t want to come near her, and Douglas. Her mind went back to Douglas. “Mom, is Douglas alive?” She asked suddenly. Her mother sighed before shaking her head no. Ophelia wanted to cry, but nothing came. She began to breathe heavy realizing that she probably couldn’t cry anymore with her new installments. Her life was spiraling down a deep dark hole and there was no happy light at the end of this tunnel. Douglas was dead, and she was a Cyborb. A disgusting excuse of human.
“Ophelia sweetie I’m so sorry.” Her mother tried to comfort her. The doctor also said his condolences. But it didn’t matter anymore. Nothing was going to be the same. In that moment she wished she would have died with Douglas, and that the Operation would have never happened. 

Challenge #61

The challenge for this week is to write a story based off of the letter O. You may integrate tons of words with  this letter into your story, or focus your story on a word that starts with this letter.

If you would like to join us for the challenge by submitting your own short stories, poems, or art, please do! Just e-mail us at inkedfeathersfink@gmail.com so that we may showcase your work for Fan Friday!

See you all on Wednesday!

Nonbeliever

I believed in God when I was a child.

            I believed in love, happiness, bliss, hope, satisfaction, and everything else that optimists can hold onto. I believed that someday, I would meet Prince Charming at the age of sixteen, go to Prom even though I felt I didn’t belong, and dance with him at the end. I thought I would get married and have kids, a set of twin boys and a girl. I’d have a husky named Zeus and a German shepherd named Hera. I thought I would have a job as an English teacher and be completely happy.

            But that’s not what happened. In high school, I stopped believing in love when I caught my boyfriend cheating on me at the mall. I stopped believing in happiness when my parents died in a car crash on their way home from getting back together after their third attempt at separation. I stopped believing in bliss when a few of my friends decided to join the ‘It’ crowd to get dates.

            In college, I stopped believing in hope when my second boyfriend dumped me for his ex back home. I stopped believing in the idea of being satisfied when I first had sex, feeling nothing but pain in my nether regions and emptiness inside my gut.

            I stopped believing in God. He doesn’t exist. If he did, my life would be so much simpler and better, and I would have faith in so many things and in people. Life would have meaning. Now it doesn’t. Especially now that I know I can’t have children.

            God does not exist.

Nothing with a Name

I have no name because no one thought I was important enough to give me one. Except her, the girl who said Hi to me when no one else would.
"Hi there." She said to me. I stared at her speechless, my body frozen.
"What's your name?" She asked me. I looked down at my shoes before answering.
"I don't have a Name." I said. The girl looked my age. Young, maybe five or six. She chuckled before replying.
"Well that's silly everyone has a name. My name is Elizabeth. But you can call me Beth!" She said excitedly.
The girl's mother walked into the room. "Elizabeth, who are you talking to sweetie?" Her mom asked.
Elizabeth looked from her Mom to me and back again. "My new friend Mommy." She said.
Elizabeth's Mom sighed before smiling. "Ah I see you've made an imaginary friend."
"Well what's your new friend's name?" Her mother asked before stepping into the room. I backed up more against the wall as Elizabeth's mother pretended to look at me as if I were really there. Only children had ever seen before, but none of them had ever talked to me like Elizabeth.
"She doesn't have a name, I already asked her." Said Elizabeth turning to face me again.
"So..what's your name?" She asked me. Her mother turned to look at the spot where Elizabeth's eyes were.

"I told you I don't have a name." I said frowning. Elizabeth smiled politely. "Well that's alright we'll just have to give you a name. NYA! That can be your name." Elizabeth said. Her mother looked at her confused.
"Nya? Where'd you get a name like that Elizabeth?" Her mother asked her.
"I don't know she just looks like a Nya." Said Elizabeth.
Her Mother patted Elizabeth's head. "Okay well I'll let you and Nya keep playing. Would you girls like any tea for a tea party?"
Elizabeth turned to me to. "Do you want some tea Nya?" She asked me. I smiled as a warm feeling filled inside me. I finally had a friend, and I finally had a name.
"Sure!" I said.

For years Beth and I were the best of friends. Until Beth became older, and her parent's discouraged her from having an 'imaginary' friend.
"I'm sorry Nya, but I can't talk to you anymore. I have to go see a therapist now, no one believes you exist and I don't want them to think I'm crazy."
I tried to plead with her. "But Beth, if you don't talk to me, no one will. I'll be alone all over again." I cried.
But Beth just ignores me.
"BETH!" I yell at her. But Beth doesn't flinch, she just keeps ignoring me.
"Beth you can't do this, if you do this I'll become Nothing again. I don't want to be just nothing."
I begged her, but she kept on ignoring me. She left the room, leaving me completely alone.


It went on like this for weeks until I really believed that Beth couldn't see me anymore. The warmth I once felt slowly starts to fade replaced with cold sadness. It's worse than before when I had no name. I was becoming nothing. Nya the Nothing that should be my new name. Just an imaginary friend, not a real friend to anyone.
The more I thought about it the more angry I became at Beth. It was her fault that I was becoming nothing. I had to do something about it. I had to get her attention again. One day when she came home from school I walked straight up to her and slapped her across the face. My hand collided with her cheek and Beth went down. She looked up at me in shock, her hand on her face.
"That's what you get for turning me into nothing!" I yelled at her. A different feeling filled up inside me, something warm and angry. Beth looked away from me with a scowl on her face.
"You are nothing! You were never existed in the first place! I gave you a name, I made you up." Beth said standing up. "This is all in my head! You don't exist." The more Beth kept saying these things the more I felt myself disappearing, becoming nothing just like she had said.
"YOU ARE NOTHING, YOU HAVE NO NAME!!!" Beth screamed. My stomach dropped and I could feel nothing, I could see nothing, I could hear nothing. I was nothing.

Challenge #60

The challenge for this week is to write a story based off of the letter N. You may integrate tons of words with  this letter into your story, or focus your story on a word that starts with this letter.

If you would like to join us for the challenge by submitting your own short stories, poems, or art, please do! Just e-mail us at inkedfeathersfink@gmail.com so that we may showcase your work for Fan Friday!

See you all on Wednesday!

Misacceptation

            Melinda sat at the front of the class and read from her Italian text book aloud to the class upon her teacher’s instructions. The seventeen year old girl hated popcorn reading because no one picked her except for the teacher. The teacher always started off with her, and then Melinda had to choose someone else to read the next section, that someone else was always Nick, her used to be best friend. He was the only person in the class who she knew wouldn’t give her crap if she called on him.

            The second time they had done popcorn reading, Melinda had called on the girl sitting next to her, Karla. The chick had whined about being called, something about having a sore throat, so the teacher asked Melinda to choose someone else, so she chose the girl on the other side of her, Louisa. Louisa also complained about a fake injury, Melinda knew it to be fake because the two girls rattled off words together right after class in the following classes right afterwards.

            It was like that for the first few weeks of school, no matter who Melinda called. So she was forced to choose Nick, who she had been avoiding for two years. When she called on him, she was expecting the same thing to happen, but he just read. Melinda even noticed the students around her being flabbergasted by this, because she saw their eyes bulge from their heads and swerve around to him. She guessed that the entire class was supposed to mock her, including him, and he must have backed out. She didn’t stop to wonder why.

            Today, after reading the section, she called on Nick. Before she could hear his voice utter the words “La bandiera italiana è stata fatta,” Clara, Nick’s ex-girlfriend, raised her hand and said the words that Melinda had hoped would never be spoken aloud during her lifetime.

            “Can someone tell Melinda that she shouldn’t make it so obvious when she has a crush on someone, please?”

            “Clara!” Ms. Liole scolded.

            “Oops! Sorry. I meant, Può qualcuno dire a Melinda che non dovrebbe rendere più così ovvie quando lei ha una cotta per qualcuno, per favore?” Clara apologized in a sickening sweet sort of way.

            Melinda kept her face glued to her textbook and hid her reddening face. She didn’t want to look at everyone’s faces, she didn’t want to look at Clara, and she really didn’t want to look at Nick. Hearing the class laugh at Clara’s ridicule just made things worse.

            At the end of school, Melinda found herself walking home in a sort of trance. She had gone through the rest of school in the same trance, and when she got home to open her notebooks to do her homework, she would realize she was in such a stupor that she hadn’t written any notes down. Just as she was reaching the front of her home, she heard a car honk its horn and a masculine voice. A familiar voice that she had heard everyday answer her own in Italian class, once that she hoped to never hear after what happened to her two years ago.

            “Melinda! Wait up, we need to talk,” Nick shouted to her, turning off his car, and hauling his ass out as if there were a bomb inside that he had to get away from. Melinda just walked faster, and ended up tripping over the front steps and hitting her elbow on the front door to her house.

            Reaching her, helping her up, Nick wasn’t sure what to say, and Melinda didn’t want to hear anything he had to say. Looking up into his dark soulless eyes, and him looking down into her golden irises, it seemed as though they had both become statues. They hadn’t actually spoken to one another for two years, and it was his fault.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered.

“You’re forgiven,” She responded, turning around quickly to open her door and leave him on the doorstep. Unfortunately for her, he just jammed his foot in the door and pushed his way through. She knew what he was capable of, she knew what he could do, so she didn’t even bother running from him, or yelling for that matter.

“We still need to talk,” He said, slamming the door behind him. At the sound of the door slamming, her jerked towards it and apologized.

“There’s nothing to talk about.” She said, throwing her backpack onto the sofa and sitting on the edge of the couch.

“If we’re going to keep acting like nothing happened between us two years ago, then yes, we do. Back in class, stuff like that is going to keep happening until we show them it doesn’t bother us.”

“Bother me. Not you. Me. They love you, Mr. All Star.”

“It bothers me too. And they don’t even know he whole story. They just know that I left your place late at night missing my shirt and pants, police on my tail, and nothing more than that. You know . . . I still care about you. I never would have done what I did if I didn’t care about you, and I’d do it again.”
            “You didn’t do it for me, you did it for yourself.”

“I did it for the both of us.”

“What do you want?”
            Silence. Nick looked at the floor and put his hand in his pockets. He look like he was thinking. Melinda had her arms crossed around her midsection, as though she were hugging herself, she was afraid of his answer.

“What did you do with everything?”

“Buried it all out back. When the cops got here, I had gotten everything in those black trash bags and gotten it outside. When they left, I buried it all.”

“Good.”

“Are you still at it?”

“Yeah. Can’t seem to stop myself.”

“Well, if you ever need anything disposed of,” She laughed, looking away from him and wondering when he would leave. Hoping that if she pretended to continue being okay with what he was, he would leave.

“So, we’re okay? We can go back to being friends?”

“Sure. Are you going to leave now?”

“I think it would be best if we told everyone we were dating.”

“Why?”

“It would explain some stuff. They wouldn’t be able to target us very much anymore either.”

“Is that why you came here? For an alibi?”

“No. No, I came here because I care about you.”

“You only care about yourself!”

“I killed them for you!”

“You killed them because you couldn’t control yourself! You were hungry, and you were going to kill me, but you killed them instead!”

“Would you rather they had lived? After everything they did to you?”

“No! I just . . . I just . . .”

With every sentence slung at one another, nick moved closer to Melinda and ended up looking into her eyes again. They were still, like marble. He hovered over her lips, and crashed into her. He gave her his passion in one kiss, she gave him her frustration in return. Pulling apart from one another, they gasped for air and looked at one another in a haze.

“I hate you.”

“No you don’t.”

“I try.” Nick moved a piece of Melinda’s brunette curls from her face to around her ear and pulled her in for another kiss. She let him.

“Don’t mistake the things I do for nonchalance. I do care about you, I’d do anything for you, and you’ve seen me do everything for you.”

Maple Tree

Authors Note: So I decided to do a poem this week, and even though I'm probably the worst poet ever I like this poem because it's creepy. And I know it's kinda short, but that's what kinda makes it more creepy. Anyway I hope you guys enjoy it too. ~Feather

Mommy doesn't believe me when I tell her what I see: A dead body hanging from our maple tree

And Daddy doesn't believe me when I tell him what I see: the three little children who always like to stare at me

And the Doctor gives me medication because he doesn't believe what I see: A man with an axe who always wants to play hide and seek. 

They all think I'm crazy but soon they will see: I am far from crazy, the dead just want to play with me. 

Lissomely

Lillium Lavao was the greatest thief in Chicago, which is saying something with Chicago having the highest scores when it comes to criminal activity. Miss Lavao, born from the least caring parental figures one can find without getting too sadistic, had learned by the age of five that she had no one but herself. This lesson was taught to her by none other than her dear sweetie pie of a mother when she left her daughter holding onto four pounds of coke when the cops came a knocking. And of course, thinking that the parents would come to collect their little bundle of joy, they took little Lilli in.

Her father had come to collect, but not her. He had come for the coke, and man did he give Lilli and her mom a walloping when he got back from the police station. He had been covered in blood and grime and wall powder from the heist he had just pulled to get the kid and the coke. If he could have, he would have left her. Lillium knew that as much as she knew that she would grow up to become a thief, whether she wanted to or not.

All the skills were there for her to learn, she had the thief trait in her blood, and she wished she would be able to escape the life before she ended up like her parents. Saddled with a kid they didn’t want, trying to make big scores while keeping a low profile, and always ending up on the negatives at the end of the week.

By age thirteen, she had made her parents proud of her by robbing the biggest bank in the city without anyone knowing until the closed the vaults for the day. Her parents had marveled and wondered how they were so lucky to get someone so slick for a kid, but before they could rejoice, the cops were banging on the door and Lillium was nowhere in sight. Perfect payback.

At age sixteen, she had to put someone in the hospital so she could make a getaway. She should have killed them, but she liked the color of the guy’s eyes and decided it would be a shame if he didn’t have any kids with the same eyes. She’d like to steal those eyes, keep them looking at her all day, every day. But that wasn’t the life for her, she couldn’t have kids, not until she was out.

At age twenty, she met him again. She had been perched like a cat on his railing, about to slip in and steal his two million dollar cat statue. It looked Egyptian, but she just knew that it was a gold statue of a cat. She was debating whether to keep it or hawk it to get out. She was leaning toward the money. She even had a state picked out for where she would reside after getting out of this Hell hole. Not that it mattered where she went, but the place she had in mind was devoid of people and crime. It was a house on the side of a road, she had found it on an auction site and wondered if it was a sign. Until she realized that the apartment she was robbing was his.

They stared each other down once she got in, and she knew those eyes just as he knew her lithe walk. He had been calling her Catwoman after she had hit him, and he had moved to a better neighborhood to see if she was after what he thought she was after. And he was right. She was after another life, another world, and he knew just how to give it to her.

Life as we know it

cc://{In five days i'm going to die. I know how and I know why, but it still doesn't seem fair to me. I've barely had time to live and now I have to die. I will no longer exist on this earth and I just don't understand why I have to go. So here's the big question, What do you do if you only have five days to live? For some people the answer is easy. Spend it with your family, enjoying each other's company and reminiscing good times you've shared together. For other's the answer comes in the form of pleasing themselves. Selfish indulges to only satisfy themselves before they die. This could be making love to whoever and whenever in the short span of the five days they have. This could be eating all the food they've ever wanted to eat and not caring how fat they will get because they have only five days left. To others they could also take as many risks as they want. This includes crazy activities that could kill them before the fifth day. But honestly some of these people just don't care. But why only five? If I had more time I would want to travel, if I could travel.

       You see I cannot do any of those things in my five days. Why you ask? Well it's because I'm a machine.In five days I will be unplugged and my 'light' will go out and I will seize to exist in this world.  But if I'm a machine how can I die, if I was never truly alive in the first place. But you don't understand because I am alive! I am alive because electricity surges through me, because people like to use me. You don't have to have a heartbeat or breath to be alive. Sometimes you just have to be remembered by those who are alive. you will be alive in someone's memory, in their heart. Then you will find what it truly means to live.

For me it's not so easy. I will not be remembered by anyone and I my memory will not live in someone's heart. When they unplug me the electricity that surges through me will be gone and I will not remember anything about this world or the people that were here or why I even existed. It scares me, and I can't do anything about it. I want to find peace, but I can't. I'm just plain scared. I want to go on living, even if I am not really alive.}cc://

Challenge #58

The challenge for this week is to write a story based off of the letter L. You may integrate tons of words with  this letter into your story, or focus your story on a word that starts with this letter.

If you would like to join us for the challenge by submitting your own short stories, poems, or art, please do! Just e-mail us at inkedfeathersfink@gmail.com so that we may showcase your work for Fan Friday!

See you all on Wednesday!