Flash Fiction, Passion's Invocation, Prostitution, Psychological Fiction, Saturday Studs

Mandy Lynn’s Fantasy

mandy-lynns-fantasy

 

They met in a chat-room for adult role play. She had just come of age and was craving the attentions of a real man. Not any of the boys in my peer group, she thought, with Joffrey in the back of her mind. Her every fantasy had come to life in him and though they had not met, she was certain she knew him through and through.  

 

Mandy Lynn felt that she had come into her own, right here and now, but she longed to touch him and consummate what they had begun. Joffrey had broken through her defenses as no man in her life ever had. He worked at it and for it, solely set on allowing her to bare all, so she knew that Joffrey truly loved her. She could feel it from thousands of miles away.  

 

It had taken a year but, Joffrey had worked tenaciously to break through her walls and to her amazement; Mandy Lynn let down her guard. Slowly she began to reveal her secrets and show a little skin; a bare shoulder first, then cut-off shorts hiding a black garter belt hooked to stockings, then a see thru negligée. Finally, he feasted his eyes upon her nubile, feminine form.

 

The lighting was perfect with shadows falling in the exact right places. He smiled in the darkness watching her features on his camera and snapped pictures she knew nothing of. He was intent on finding out just how far to push her and when to loosen his grip, all without ever breaking contact. He would save that for his ultimate weapon.

 

He memorized her features, etched into mind almost indelibly now; her soft lips smiling at him or parting to laugh at his jokes, her wide-eyed innocence and the curve of her hand twirling a lock of hair nervously, not knowing what to expect of him. Joffrey imagined her perky breasts, taut thighs, and tight, sweet, little ass, while he played at being a gentleman.

 

She had never roll-played before. She’d never even taken an acting class but she knew he was genuine. When he finally invited her to meet in person, Mandy paused for only a fraction of a moment but realized her instincts true. She knew Joffrey to be a very good man and readily accepted his invitation.

 

Mandy Lynn left Freeport Florida taking a leap into a future she could only dream of prior. She knew Joffrey was charming, a gregarious temptation with a warm and engaging personality. She ached to know if his arms were the perfect match she had imagined.

 

Every night, after chatting online, she closed her eyes to imagine the warmth and safety of his strong arms around her, the feel of his large hands exploring her, revealing her most intimate secrets, kept only for him. He would kiss her gently, increasing pressure gradually until she let him devour her and wanted him all the more.

 

Upon arrival of the much anticipated cab which would carry her to the airport, she couldn’t understand the knot in her stomach, or a sudden uneasiness that assailed her. She chalked it up to nerves and climbed into the taxi.

 

Their first week together was magical. Mandy Lynn leaned into a lamp post for strength. Retrieving a photo from her skirt pocket, she stared hard at the picture she had kept for years; a picture of the last time she was still that innocent.

 

In the second week Joffrey had stripped her of money, decent clothing, and withheld affection, food, and everything necessary for survival. He put her out to work the streets, under threat of bodily harm, and let his buddies trade her like so much chattel, and now I am a whore, she realized knowing she could never go home again.

 

For the millionth time she stared at the photo she’d kept of those days, wondering how she’d never suspected that the man she was so certain of was actually a woman-beating pimp, but couldn’t summon tears, knowing they would freeze in the biting wind, only to begin again in the depths of her broken heart.

 

Disclaimer:  Any resemblance to persons living or deceased is strictly coincidental.

 

By Wildfire8470

wildfire8470

 

 

 

© October 01, 2016 – 02:04 AM

Copyrighted.com Registered & Protected 29W3-LYE7-D1XI-PHIB

 

 

 

 

 

Abuse, Dangerous Women, Passion's Invocation, Psychological Fiction, Unrelated Family, WiP Excerpts

Reckless Rita and Feckless Fred

Reckless Rita and Feckless Fred


Feckless Fred

 

Dear Diary,   12/8/2015

 

I’m sitting here next to feckless Fred, except now he’s dead, and I’m about half seas-over working on my sixth pint of Conqueror Black. I found a crate in the back of his truck!

 

That’s the last picture I took of him, right before Thanksgiving dinner at the community club. Well it’s half the picture. Old feckless was getting an early start. Nothing new about that, but tonight is the first time he really hurt me.

 

I downloaded the pictures, cut off his head, and pasted it onto a silver platter surrounded by bloodied mashed potatoes. You’ve got to love Photoshop! I stuck it on an e-card and wrote, “It’s what’s for Dinner – Happy Feckless Turkey Day”!

 

Well, it made Olivia laugh and I got to vent. What Fred didn’t know never hurt him…until now. (Snicker!)

 

Okay, so murder is wrong and way out of my comfort zone, but it was really self-defense, so I know you will forgive me when I explain why. 

 

Only you and Olivia know that the things I said weren’t premeditated. You know, stuff like, “If he comes home stinking drunk again I’ll do something drastic”! I never really meant it. I was just blowing off steam.

 

I was pissed and spouting off recklessly like I do. You know stuff you say in anger like, “I’ll spike his drink with Drano” and “If he lays a single hand on me, I’ll go Unabomber on his worthless ass”.

 

Tonight he busted through the locked bedroom door. Old feckless blackened my eye and split my lip. He tried to bludgeon me with the marble lamp and I snapped! It was like getting struck by lightning. Zap! Then everything after is a moment of newfound clarity.

 

I suppose, by now, I knew I’d kill the bastard someday. I just didn’t know it would be today. 

 

Knowing his nightly routine, I waited to hear him turn the faucets and fill the bathtub. I heard the water splash in protest as he lowered his fat ass into it. (Talk about the size of Amarillo!) 

 

Tonight, I stopped threatening and issuing impotent warnings. Feckless knew it was just hot air. He knew I was just blowing smoke so tonight, I made good on them.

 

No one can say I didn’t warn him, but this time, Feckless went way over the top and he pushed me to my ultimate limit. It was time to put up or shut up!

 

Olivia knew it. She told me, “If you forgive him, he thinks he can beat you all the time and get forgiven all the time. All that teaches old feckless is that he’s right”. 

 

He thinks he can abuse me and get off with a few crocodile tears and well-rehearsed words. I showed him.

 

Geeze, she sure was right. She spoke with the voice of personal knowledge, warning me, “One day you’ll make a decision or he’ll force you to, if he doesn’t kill you first”. 

 

She offered to let me stay over when he really had a snoot-full. Until tonight I was damn near living there but just like she said, feckless Fred forced me to choose. 

 

It was his life or mine so I did the first thing that came to mind, though I did fantasize about it since the day after I married the son of a bitch.

 

I went to the tool shed to fetch a long extension cord and plugged it into the wall outside the bathroom. Then I got the toaster and plugged it into the other end. Silently, I cracked the door open.

 

Fred got up when he saw me enter. Before he could make a move, I lobbed the toaster, high and hard, and yelled, “Hey Fred, go deep”!

 

You should have seen his face when I pitched the toaster into the tub. Oh my goodness gracious! It was so much better than I’d imagined a million times! It was absolutely priceless! 

 

Well, what now? I have to call Olivia straight away; maybe she’ll know what to do with fried feckless.

 

RR

 

 

By Wildfire8470

 

Wildfire8470

 

 

 

 

 

 

© December 08, 2015 – 07:21 AM – All Rights Reserved
Copyrighted.com Registered & Protected AAWK-U4ZV-AVSE-28KZ

 

 

 

 

Tagged: Abuse, Alcoholism, AmEditing, Chosen Family, Comedy, Drama, Dangerous Women, Flash Fiction, Friendship, Humor, Matricide, Murder, Psychological Fiction, Unrelated Family, WiP

Emmaline's Story, Fiction, Institutionalization, Mental Illness, Psychological Fiction, Teenage Girls, WiP Excerpts

Emmaline’s Story 16

Emmaline’s Story – On the Inside

Chapter 16

Hell Day

 

Emma-Hell Day

 

 

I dragged my hurting ass to breakfast the next morning.  Aching from head to toe, I straightened my posture determined not to give goon one iota of satisfaction.

 

Danica watched me take a tray and walk stiffly to the table.

 

“Geezzze, Em’, you look like death. Are you okay?”

 

“Oh sure,” I ground out, “Nothing a year long, hot bath won’t fix.”

 

Perched before another poor excuse for food, I mused wistfully, “Oh, do you remember baths; dropping into warmth and soaking away your pain?”

 

Danica touched my shoulder and whispered, “Tonight we hunt. We’ll find something that you can soak in, Em.”

 

Slapping on a smile I didn’t feel, I prepared for hell day. Almost immediately, psych guy appeared calling my name, “Emmaline!”

 

Shit. Here we go again.

 

Without flinching, I raised my hand, “Present!”

 

“Be present in my office in fifteen minutes,” He said angrily, as he walked away without so much as ‘hello, goodbye, or kiss my ass.’

 

Helen shot an unnerved look at me, “They know it was us.”

 

“No way,” I confided, “it’s not about that.”

 

“What then,” she drilled me.

 

“Suffice it to say, the score is, us: 3, them: 1,” I informed her, wincing every time I moved a muscle.

 

“What? Did you do something last night?”

 

She looked worried sick and I half-feared she would spontaneously combust, so I did my best to ease her tension, “It was nothing. I can hardly believe they noticed.”

 

Danica jabbed a spork into flapjacks, shaking her head, and I was suddenly riddled with guilt. I broke down and told them, “I just left a teeny, tiny, little message on the scrolling marquee last night. It was nothing, really.”

 

Helen finally smiled, saying, “Besides, they have an elevator to lasso!”

 

“Atta girl,” I encouraged her.

 

She grinned but her face fell as she eyed her breakfast with despair.

 

I leaned in and said, “I have to face psych guy already. You can do this.”

 

I stood to go and then turned to wait. She cut off a piece and popped it into her mouth trying not to show her distaste, while I hid how badly I felt for her. Before I could rethink it, I grabbed my spork, jabbed it into her breakfast, and shoveled a big piece of her meal into my mouth.

 

I must have turned six shades of green just trying not to wretch. Helen laughed right out loud. The sound of her laughter made me feel brand new. Even Danica and Marie were joking and laughing. I walked to the inner sanctum mentally patting myself on the back.

 

When I arrived at psych guy’s office the door was closed. At times like this, he really grated on my nerves. I stood there thinking over my predicament,

 

I can knock. I should knock. It’s his office, but he showed me no zero respect in front of everyone in the community room, and I didn’t get to eat breakfast!

 

Finally, I grabbed the doorknob, twisted and barged in, and flounced into my usual chair declaring loudly, “Present!”

 

“So you are,” he mumbled into his palm, unimpressed.

 

“Sir, yes sir,” I saluted him not bothering to stand. Even my bruises felt like they had bruises.

 

Mercilessly, he stated the obvious, “It would seem you’re not quite up to your usual standards, soldier.”

 

I rested my head on my hand, nearly crumbling. His stare burned into me. He was just waiting for me to break, to disintegrate into dust so he could be rid of his problem; me.

 

Smug bastard!

 

“What is it, Emma?”

 

“Emma,” I shrieked, “Don’t you dare presume to call me by a familiar name! You dont know me and I don’t trust you! You haven’t earned my trust and neither has any of the staff! You fire off your orders, not once considering that we’re all here for a reason. A profoundly ugly reason! If I gave a shit, I’d ask what your major malfunction is, but to be perfectly blunt, I couldn’t possibly care less than I do at this very second!”

 

I gave him no quarter, not even a space of breath to interject anything before I stormed out, slamming the door behind me. To my stunned disbelief, he didn’t follow.

 

 

By Wildfire8470

Wildfire8470

 

 

 

 

 
© June 14, 2015 – 04:09 AM – All Rights Reserved
Copyrighted.com Registered & Protected JBPJ-G2PL-1FZR-4EGU

Fantasy, Fiction, Love and Lust, Polygamy, Romance, WiP Excerpts

Between the Devil and the Deep, Part 2

Jake's Insanity

Insanity © Genius Editorial Project

 

He stood on the shore, scanning the rolling waves and hoping to catch sight of her, even as he began to unravel. With both hands gripping the sides of his head, a tortured scream was wrenched from deep in his gut, echoing from sea to sky and back to him.

 

“No! No! No! No! Noooooooo! This isn’t happening! What the fuck is happening to me? Fucking hell!”

 

With his knees giving way Jake slid limply to the ground having no clue where to turn now. Night descended while he sat, butt in the cool sand, reviewing the day and trying to determine exactly where he’d slipping off the beam.

 

Okay, He thought determinedly, so layoffs are more traumatic than I’d realized. So what? I’ll find another job. A better job! Yea! And make more money than I do now! It’s a momentary mental break, just a minor, little psychotic, He winced at the word, break. He continued coaching himself. That’s all. My mind just created a powerful diversion; an escape, of sorts. What man can resist a siren? Yea, it’s a delusion, that’s all. I’m okay now. I’m fine.

 

But Jake was acutely aware that he wasn’t fine.

 

Mermaid, he snickered at himself. You’ve read too many tales of man versus sea, old boy!

 

He effectively talked himself down from the proverbial ledge when his thoughts turned to Katherine. She never failed to warm his heart and he took immense comfort in her nurturance. Jake had chosen his first wife wisely and longed to go to her now.

 

He could almost feel his head in her lap while she ran delicate fingers through his hair, whispering, “Shhh quiet your mind, love. Don’t think any more tonight. Close your eyes and I’ll sooth you to sleep.”

 

He rested elbows on knees still gripping his head, as though it may explode, thinking, I can’t let her see me like this. For crying out loud, get it together man! You have real responsibilities to handle!

 

Then Myra’s face came to mind. She was such a joy to be with and a smile never failed to kiss his lips at the thought of her. She was the woman he shared his dreams and ambitions with, the wife who seemed to think he could do no wrong. Myra always looked at him reflecting all that he wished to see in himself. Nothing was too silly or far-fetched. No topic was off limits. He imagined the amusement in her eyes if she could see him now, knowing that regardless, he may never speak of this day to anyone.

 

Jake released his head and stood to swipe the sand from his rumpled clothing and all traces of delusion from his face. He ran his hands over jeans and tan skin ensuring that he was entirely put together. Pausing for a brief moment, he looked out at the constantly rolling waves, whispering to himself, “I’m okay. I’m a lucky man. If the price of having too much love is a momentary lapse, I’ll count myself very lucky indeed,” He comforted himself.

 

Jake turned homeward feeling as though he were trudging through wet cement, but forced his feet to turn back saying , “Goodbye, my beautiful Sirena. Perhaps we will meet again someday.”

 

Sirena floated silently in the ocean, hidden in breakers with tears in her eyes, watching him disappear into the night.

 

 

By Wildfire8470

Wildfire8470

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Between the Devil and the Deep, Part 3 —>

 

 

© December 03, 2015 – 11:21 PM – All Rights Reserved

Copyrighted.com Registered & Protected  KEA9-IT5V-BVAA-UXAC

 

 

Abuse, Emmaline's Story, Institutionalization, Mental Illness, Passion's Invocation, Psychological Fiction

Emmaline’s Story 13

Emmaline’s Story – On the Inside

Chapter 13

Small Disasters

 

 

From psych guy’s office I wandered to the porch and, took a seat. I turned to the girls, talking boisterously, and I touched Danica’s finger, saying, “Tonight. Right?”

 

She nodded and I strolled out to the fence. No longer feeling apprehension and terror, I wondered if things really can change. God knows I’ve had ample evidence to the contrary.

 

Immediately, I dismissed the thought as I contemplated the change in Maya. She seemed so clean, so clear-headed, as though her twisted mind had been unknotted. She even walked differently, with assurance of self and shoulders squared.

 

Then I realized what I was thinking. No shit! I’m envious? I envy her? Holy cow pies!

 

I felt startled and shaken to the depths of me, when I saw Danica cresting the hill searching. This time I got up to close the gap. Meeting her half way down, I asked her about my prior conclusion, suggesting, “Sis, I know I said we should only talk at night, but, if it’s okay with you, I’d like us to talk whenever the coast is clear.

 

“Yes! Yay,” she smiled.

 

I locked our fingers and we headed back. Upon reaching the porch we all sat talking about the crappy food, and lousy mattresses atop makeshift, metal bedframes, and I made it a point to pay special attention to Helen.

 

We had staggered our meetings and I was sure there were times when she must have felt left out. She didn’t get to share a room with us and she had to eat the crappiest, sugarless foods while watching us receive the semi-normal foods, but I had a surprise up my sleeve. I touched her finger and asked, “Bathroom at two a.m. break?”

 

Having listened in, Danica and Marie broke into huge smiles. Marie asked, “Is it time? You have,” and quickly lowered her voice, “the tools?”

 

I nodded, saying, “I think so. I’ll show them to Helen tonight. You’ll know if they will work. Right?”

 

“Yea! You bet ya,” she exclaimed.

 

We were filled with glee and hiding it in silence when I turned to find goon standing against the door, holding it slightly ajar. It was too obvious she was spying. At this point, silence was the kiss of death, so I hid my arm in front of me and pointed back at goon, making an ugly frown.

 

Marie took the cue, “Helen, your hair is so silky. How do you keep it like that?”

 

Helen glanced quickly at goon and replied, “Well I don’t have the usual tools here, but I tend to stick with shampoo that has,” she stopped short not knowing the scientific words for the products and finished, “softening agents in them and I use a detangler. Oh and never brush wet hair,” she cautioned.

 

With my back to the door I grinned at them, knowing they had just saved us some unneeded grief.

 

“I’ll look up the softening agents for you,” Helen continued, “as soon as possible.”

 

I saw Marie and Helen relax and looked back to see that goon had gone on her way. I dragged the back of my hand over my forehead, saying, “Whew! That was close!”

 

All the girls mumbled that goon was onto us. I didn’t want to scare them, but it was an inescapable fact.

 

“Yes, I know,” I warned, “We have to be more cautious from now on.”

 

“Are you sure this is wise,” Helen asked.

 

I smiled snickering, “Of course not, but what other fun do we have here, unless you really enjoy broken crayons and ancient crossword puzzles?”

 

All three grimaced and grumbled about how little was made available to do.

 

“That reminds me, I haven’t written any lousy prose for big B lately,” I said, lost in thought.

 

Everyone leaned in to touch my finger and Helen laughed,”Let’s all remember to bow and give thanks to the television gods for access to a TV!”

 

“I guess you guys are as bored as I am,” I said.

 

“Well yea, that,” Marie hinted, “and you haven’t breathed a word about psych guy.”

 

I turned to my opposite side knowing Danica hadn’t even told the girls and gave her a thankful wink.

 

“Okay. I’ll say what I’m able to tonight but use extra caution. Okay?”

 

They nodded affirmatively and we filed inside for dinner.

 

I stared at the slab of turkey breast on my plate, recently frozen and thawed to eat, with think globs of gravy on top of sliced bread. Trying not to wretch, I considered Helen. I was certain the meal must look like heaven to her, so I dug in vigorously, cut off a huge helping and shoveled it into my mouth.

 

Before I could bite down, I tasted a dreadful and unmistakable tang. My effort became an immediate small disaster. Fisting a napkin, I spit out the mouthful and turned my meal over to expose large, moldy spots on the bread and I turned at least five shades of green.

 

“What is it,” Marie asked, chewing hungrily.

 

“I’m allergic to mold,” I whispered, cupping my hand around my mouth to hide my dismay from Helen.

 

Marie leaned over to inspect my overturned meal, sputtering, “Oh! Ewww!”

 

Without hesitation, she flipped her own to check and with that, all attempts to hide disgust were lost.

 

“Mine’s fine,” she said, slicing it to give me half.

 

I thanked her kindly and asked her to take it back explaining that I’d lost my appetite.

 

“Okay, but I’ll sneak the cookies back to our room for you. If you’re hungry, you can munch then,” she whispered.

 

“Thanks,” I offered, as goon made her way behind me.

 

Hmmm, she’s getting sneaky. She’s definitely onto us or, at least, me.

 

“You hardly touched your meal,” she said cunningly.

 

I tried to think of something she couldn’t argue with but drew a blank. Instead, I bit my tongue.

 

Goon heaved a sigh and rounded the table finishing dinner rounds. Helen shot a worried look at me and whispered, “She knows something’s up.”

 

“Agreed,” I conspired, “Like I said, extra caution from now on.”

 

I reached beneath the table in a way that was only perceptible to us. Three fingers touched mine and I looked around before saying, “Meeting tonight after two a.m. rounds. Helen, meet me in the bathroom a few minutes after you hear me open my door. Okay?”

 

“Sure thing,” she answered, tossing me a relieved smile.

 

Sometimes I wonder if the girls trust me a little too much, I worried.

 

“If goon and B come back early, it’s off tonight,” I added for safe measure.

 

“Got it,” Helen whispered, under her breath.

 

Afterwards, I reached next to me and coiled my finger through Danica’s to let her know we would talk privately after our meeting. She sent me a knowing glance and got up to empty her tray.

 

When goon called lights out for the night I tiptoed to Danica to explain that I would be slightly late for our talk.

 

“How come,” she asked with a worried frown.

 

I’d finally remembered a website I loved and fudged, “I just have something to do.”

 

“Want some help,” she queried.

 

“Nah, I’ll tell you about it later. Get some rest.”

 

At two a.m. rounds, I waited until the coast was clear and went straight to the computer to look up netdisaster.com.

 

I downloaded an application which would attack a computer in a variety of ways and wondered which one to choose. Cows pooping on the screen?

 

I tried it but it didn’t send the right message. Nuke the monitor!

 

I downloaded Desktop NetDisaster and installed the software to make missiles nuke the computer screen, giving the appearance that all records had been infected or hacked as bombs exploded on the monitor, complete with sound effects.

 

I set up the effect on all the office computers smiling wickedly at my handiwork, and then scooted back to the room, extracted my list, and crossed off ‘helplessness.’

 

 

 

By Wildfire8470

Wildfire8470

 

 

 

 

 

 

© June 14, 2015 – 04:09 AM – All Rights reserved

Copyrighted.com Registered & Protected JBPJ-G2PL-1FZR-4EGU

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Abuse, Emmaline's Story, Institutionalization, Mental Illness, Passion's Invocation, Psychological Fiction, WiP Excerpts

Emmaline’s Story 12

 Emmaline’s Story – On the Inside

Chapter 12

Inner Sanctum Actress

Pasithea by http://yungvermeer.tumblr.com/tagged/mypainting/

Pasithea  © http://yungvermeer.tumblr.com/tagged/mypainting/

Breakfast was fairly uneventful, for a change. I didn’t have a meltdown. I was refreshed yet exhausted. I recognized the irony of the paradox, but didn’t fully understand it.

Last night was the only time I’d ever confided in anyone and I slept better than I could recall in recent memory, yet I was profoundly tired.

I suppose, carrying everyone’s world up a mountain can have that effect after my first night of rest.

Conversely, psych guy was wide awake and ready for me, with his hair combed in place, wearing a suit without a single wrinkle, and eyes bright and alert. He greeted me with a beaming smile, “Good morning, Nyx.”

“’Morning,” I mumbled and plopped into my usual seat wondering,

Why do I always feel like I’ve been sent to the principal’s office?

“Well, it looks like sleep was not a friend to you last night,” he jabbed, tossing my own words back at me.

“On the contrary,” I quipped resuming yesterday’s calm demeanor, “Aergia dropped by for a visit and I’m still recovering from the night’s effects.

“Aergia,” he repeated, obviously rifling through his repertoire of Greek mythology.

“Yes, I said, “We enjoyed a long, lazy, girls night of chit chat. It’s so rare when our attentions are not pulled in other directions by obligations and commitments,” I prattled on, emphasizing ‘commitments.’ She is an ever present fixture, if not exactly vigilant,” I explained.

“Oh, lazy, sloth, Aergia. Got it.”

“Perhaps not entirely,” I countered, “She’s a spirit, one of several who guard my son’s domain. Aeriga is spirit and a goddess. Do you know what that means?”

Psych guy shook his head, speculating about what I would come up with next.

“Spirits, by definition, affect other souls with like qualities,” I explained, “Aergia is the spirit of laziness. She is infectious in that way. I’m just recuperating from a night of supremely indulgent laziness.”

“What sort of home does your son have? He must be very rich,” he stated petulantly, “to require that much security.”

“It’s a deep, dark, rocky, cave,” I said, with a mother’s tolerance.

“A cave,” he replied, “A cave that Aergia guards. What exactly does she guard, pray tell? Does he expect looters to steal his stash of rocks?”

“I would imagine, much the same things you do,” I shot back at him.

“I see,” he said thoughtfully, scratching his chin, “How so?”

“She, among others, guards his home and his well-being. He resides in a dark cave next to his twin brother, Thánatos, in the underworld.”

“He does,” his voice was a mixture of appreciation and incredulity.

I didn’t even slow down. Trying out my imitation of a purely maternal voice, I continued, “He does not see the changing of days, the rising or setting sun, or even the moon,” I frowned slightly for effect, “His peace lies in tranquility, the quiet; his own and that which surrounds him. His home has not as much as gates that may awaken him with creaking.”

“Really, a deep, dark cave in the underworld, where he brought his wife to live, next door to his brother,” He challenged me, “Who is Thánatos?”

“He is god of death.”

“You must be very proud,” he smiled derisively as he shot his dig at me.

“Well, admittedly, it’s not every mother’s dream but,”

“Hypnos lives with his wife, Pasithea,” he repeated, testing my knowledge and trying to figure out how to best me, “in the underworld with his twin brother, death,” he interrupted.

“Do you expect that I am uneducated about my own family? Do you think me unfit?”

Our eyes locked in a battle of wits and wills as tense silence filled the room.

Just to annoy him further, I continued, “As I was saying, it’s actually quite lovely. The River Lethe runs through it, and Pasithea has such a sweet countenance. She’s the deity of hallucination and relaxation. She’s so good to Hypnos and good for him,” I sighed clasping my hands over my bosom and smiling like an oblivious mother, brimming with ignorant joy, then caught myself thinking,

Cripes, I just made myself want to hurl!

“And what does all this mean to you, Emmaline?”

His question startled me back to reality and I stumbled, “You asked!”

“Good! Very good, Emmaline! I did ask, Emmaline. What did I ask?”

“You asked me who I am,” I shot at him, suddenly realizing I’d let him get away with addressing me by my real name, “But I still don’t know this Emmaline you speak of,” I added, attempting to put things to rights, “Perhaps you will tell me about her one day?”

“I believe you will discover her,” he explained kindly, “and you will be a better mother to her than she has known in the past.”

I turned a confused face to him while attempting to hide startled eyes, but he imparted nothing more.

Instead, he finished with his usual, “Come again tomorrow at noon. Good day, Emmaline.”

I opened the door to leave, took a step, and found myself face-to-face with the lost girl I had noticed yesterday. Again, she looked much healthier than I had witnessed while being admitted. I couldn’t help myself. I touched her shoulder gently, smiled, and said, “Way to go, girl.”

She smiled back, quietly saying, “Thanks,” and stood waiting.

“Emmaline,” I introduced myself, extending my hand.

“Maya,” she said taking it.

We shook once and I turned away as she opened psych guy’s door.

By Wildfire8470

Wildfire8470

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