Tuesday, February 19, 2013

Flash Fiction Challenge -- Write What You Know

This week's...no my first... flash fiction piece of the year is based on Chuck Wendig's Blog, Terribleminds, and his Flash Fiction Challenge -- Write What You Know.  Below is what I came up with.

     “You should be dead in about one hour, maybe less,” I said as I watched my dinner guest at the other end of my wooden table in my kitchen.
     Shannon stopped in mid-chew, eyes bulged as she stared at me.
     “What…what do you…mean? Why?” Food sprayed out of her mouth as she spoke, almost incoherently.
     “And our conversation had been going so well, hadn’t it?” I knew my response was sarcastic. I was annoyed and I wanted it over, but I also wanted her to know why she was going to die. I so wanted her to suffer for what she had done to me. People who felt rules didn’t apply to them made me sick.
     “Well, yeah…I thought so.” Shannon finished chewing and stared me.
     Swallowing her last bite looked painful. I don’t think she quite grasped the situation…yet. Because she didn’t eat anymore and tears streamed down her face, maybe she suspected I might be serious.
     “What’s going on? You can’t be serious?”
     “Serious as a heart attack. Pun intended.” Shannon continued to stare at me, fork in hand. It was obvious she didn’t get the joke and I was going to have to explain in detail what I had planned for her. Which was okay because I rather enjoyed this part of killing someone. The part I didn’t like—was having to figure out where to get rid of the body. So far I had been lucky. I knocked my knuckles on the wooden tabletop.
     “Why did you do that,” Shannon asked.
     “Just for luck. Nothing you need to worry your pretty little head about, Shannon. Why don’t you finish eating your dinner and we can talk after. You look like you could use a drink of your wine.”
     Tears still streaming down her face, she looked at me, looked at the wine glass, looked back at me and I nodded. Reluctantly, she picked up her glass and took a gulp. She wiped the tears off her face with the back of her hand.
     Hopefully, her drink would be enough because she hardly ate much of her dinner. Perhaps I spoke too soon and she didn’t eat enough. I realized I needed to tell her it was all a joke so she would eat more because I couldn’t have her not die on me.
     “Yes, Shannon, dry your eyes. I was kidding about the dying part.” I continued under my breath, ‘for now anyway.’ “Let’s finish our dinner and we can go watch a movie. This was supposed to be a fun girl’s night together and I’m ruining it by playing jokes. I’m sorry.” I picked up my fork and took a bite. I watched Shannon as she first smiled at me and begin to eat again.
     “You know, Shannon,” I began as I changed my mind about being nice to her, “you are putting up a pretty big front considering what you did. Why don’t you just admit that you think rules don’t apply to you and that you feel justified in taking back the car you sold me.”
     “Well, I don’t think rules don’t apply to me, but you didn’t pay the last $200 and I needed the car back—“ Shannon trailed off.
     “Because you wrecked your other one,” I calmly said between bites. Shannon looked surprised at my comment. How could I possibly know why she needed the car back?
“Oh, come on Shannon. You’ve lived in this town all your life. Have you forgotten how small it is? That everyone knows everyone’s business. You’re really not very smart, are you?”
     “Hey,” Shannon’s voice got a bit louder, “you owed me that money and when I needed it, you didn’t have it, so you left me with no choice but to take my car back. I did, rather do, still have the title.”
     “That’s because you told me you couldn’t find it, and I didn’t pay you the last $200 because I told you I would pay it to you when you got me the title so I could register it in my name. You can’t take the law into your own hands and steal a car back from someone you sold it to. The law is on my side. In fact, I could have even gone down to the DMV and filed for a lost title. My big mistake for not doing so.” I set my fork on my plate and watched her as she continued to eat. Hopefully, she would eat it all and kick the bucket quickly.
     “No, I think the law is on my side,” Shannon said as she took a large drink of her wine. “When you didn’t pay me the last $200, I had the right to take it back. Cops even said I did.”
     “Uh, no they didn’t, Shannon. I know they told you it was a civil matter and that you would need to file a civil claim against me, and you know it.” I was getting madder at her the longer I tried talking sense into her. I was losing control of the situation and I couldn’t let that happen. She was looking a bit pale and swiped her hand across her forehead. She was sweating.
     “Is something wrong, Shannon?” I asked with some enthusiastic interest. I didn’t want her to think I was heartless because we had been friends, or so I thought until she stole the car back.
     “Uh, I’m not feeling so good. Can you take me back to my car, please?”
     Before she could get up out of her chair, she turned her head to the side and through up all over my wooden floor. She vomited so violently and it made such a mess; it reminded me of the movie “The Exorcist” where the character Reagan spewed out a straight line of green vomit clear to the end of her bed. But that was ok, I was used to it by now from all the others I’ve killed.

Would love to hear from you and your comments about this flash fiction piece.

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