FirstLineFiction beta

from Contest #1

She told him with a little gesture he had never seen her use before. and, not a very polite one at that. but, crude or not, the message was clear. I am not interested in you. as she strode from the table, scott sighed. this was the third girl this month that had dumped him. though, admittidly, this was the worst one yet. as he left the money on the table for the waiter, he swore. it was as if he was being cursed with this poor luck. though he was never the superstcious type. he strode into the old dive he called home. it was bloody mess, owned by some old hag in the 30's. but, it was sitting here rotting, and he used it. he sat down in the chair, flicked on the tv, and watched some insipid drivel, untill he finallly fell asleep. and he slept for hours. untill the clock struck midnight. for some reason, midnight was when he woke up. or, 11:59, to be exact. he rubbed his temples, and sat up. man, he felt as wide awake as if he had ingested 5 cups of coffee. "now where..." he grunted to himself. there was a shriek, a blood curdling, hair raising scream. he shot back, and from the shadow, a figure arose. Scott, pulling a gun from the table, and fired twice. the bullets paswsed though there target, like air. scott stepped back, startled. "wh....what are you!?!?" he stuttered. the odd woman laughed, flooated over to him, scratched him under the chin, and was gone. his heart pounding. he wasn't going back to sleep. not on his life. what was that... that THING?? he stuggled, and ran out of the house. running, hoping to lose his fears in the dusty trail he left behind him.

*******

8 hours later

Scott sat, glumly at a bar. dark circles were under his eyes. he still heard that chilling scream, yet for some reason, all of his friends living nearby had not heard anything, sleeping like rocks. perhaps it was a nightmare. but there were still bullets in his wall. perhaps he had fired while asleep... he shook his head, slurping the cappicino he ordered. man, the bloody stuff tastes like muck. as he was getting up to go, a girl sat dow in the seat across from him "is this seat taken? i'm sorry, but the place is crowded..." she inquired. in spite of himself, scott found himself blushing. "erm... sure," he murmered. she seated herself, and ordered a beverage. then she looked at him. oddly. actually, she seemed a little... could that be happiness in the depths of her pupils. he tried to speak, stopped, then pushed out, "so, do you live around here often? no, wait, i mean, well..." he stopped, because she was tittering softly. "you're cute. whats your name?" she interrogated.

"err... Scott. whats your's?" he replied, uncertainly. she paused, as if pondering a difficult problem, then answered "Clarabell Lee,"

"well, i was quite pleasant meeting you, Clarabell," he replied, feeling a tad more sure footed. perhaps, i will see you again some time." he turned to leave, 'accidentaly' dropping his phone number on the table.

 ***********

five weeks later, and a deep, relasonship between the two had formed. and Clara hadn't given him the bird ONCE!!! it felt like a huge anvil had been lifted off his back. he had dismissed his odd nightmare by now, and was preoccupied with a world of other things. but sometimes, he would have the distinct feeling that he was being watched, that there was someone else, watching, watching. he usually dismissed such feelings as stress from work, or too much coffee. a liberty he could not take on may, the 12th. walking down a deserted backstreet of baltimore, he was whistlinga happy tune, on the way to visit Clarabell, when he heard a whisper. "you will not defile my last place of peace" "what, Scott turned on his heel, to find no one. he shrugged, and turned, and was on his way, when he was flung through the air, and into a solid brick wall. he fell back, stars fluttering in front of his face. he spun back, and saw an unnatural little cloud of mist. and, was it his imagination, or were those eyes... scrambling up, he took off toward Clara's house. running, as he had five weeks ago, from his own fear.

*** when he reached Clara's house, she was waiting, tapping her foot expectantly. "dear me, you took your time," she commented. "sorry," scott panted. "i dunno what happened. I was walking down an alley, and i heard this voice, and then, next thing i know, i'm flat against a wall." Clara paused, and then ran past scott, into the vast streets. "wait... Clara!" scott hollered. but she was gone. he must have sounded crazy. blast it, why did he always do that. what an arse hole he was. grumbling, he srode home, a little more wary this time

***

when he reached home, everything was eerie. there was not a noise, a movement, or even a smell in the air. he sat down, looking about him, and then tried to turn on the tv. nothing. what was going on? he suddenly felt himself being hoisted in the air, as if by his collar. he couldn't move, flail or call for help. and a figure appeared, an old woman, transparent. like mist. and he recognized something in those eyes. just like the ones he had thought he saw in the alley. and she cackled, maniacly. "you and your type are always trying to scrounge from your dead. well, you can't have this. it's mine!!!! mine, curse you!!! " her eyes were spinning around in her head. she loooked insane. and from the folds of her skirt, she drew a lond knife "perhaps your death will teach the others a lesson!!"  she sneered. his eyes were bulging, his heart pounding. he tried to flail, scream, but he was immobilized. and the blade drew ever closer... "wait!!" shouted a voice. the old woman turned around. "clara??" she asked. a transparent, misty Clarabell Lee. "put him down,"  she demanded. "why??" demanded the old woman. "this is my dwelling. not his, mine!!" "I know," responded Clara. "But your dead. i know it's hard to accept. i died too, you know. but you need to let go, let go of all the things you had in life. they don't matter any more. you need to learn to rest in peace."  the old woman scowled, but obliged in letting scott down. his heart sounded like a bass drum, now. clanking away inside his ribs, pushed on by fear. but as Clara approached, he felt himself bound again, in immovability. she began to tear up
"ooh, i'm sorry scott. I'm sorry abou all of this. the confusion, the fear. but when i saw yu, that one night, five weeks ago, i couldn't... i suppose it doesn't matter now." she paused, and kissed him lighlty on the cheeks. "goodbye, scott," she said, scratching him under the chin with those familiar fingers. "you can live here in peace now," she placed her finger in the center of his forehead, and he felt his mobility return, as wel as an insatiable drowsyness. and in a flash, both the old woman, and beautiful young girl, were gone. forever. and scott, drifted away, into the gentle hnds of sleep.

****

5 weeks later, scott was walking down the same alleyway he'd been ambushed in. it had been tough, but he had gotten over his para normal love life. but he still missed Clara, and felt he always would. as he finally reached that familiar old restraunt and sat down, he saw a commotion. "what do yuo mean  there are no more seats! surely you don't expect me to wait 45 minutes??" demanded a young girl of a waiter. for some reason, she looked vaguely familiar.  Scott stood up. "let her sit here!" scott barked at the waiter. he obliged, gesticulating for her to sit. as she sat down, she said "thanks so much for this. i mean really, serving staff these days..." "no problem," replied Scott. "tell me, whats yor name?" "Clarabell,' she responded, in a soft coaxing voice. "Clarabell Lee,"

back to Contest #1