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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Horror  |  House: Booksie Classic
Anita Carlson

Submitted: June 14, 2011

A A A | A A A

Submitted: June 14, 2011



The spicy scent of buffalo sauce hit me like a brick wall as the cold grip of winter relinquished me into the cafe. The conversations around me buzzed my ears like a squadron of mosquitos desperately searching for their next meal. My boots shed snow as they padded across the clean grey carpet, revealing their true tan color by the time I sat down. I let my back slide down the grand looking leather chair, feeling the rouge colored material pull the bottom of my sweater up as my body steeped lower. The leather was cool and calming as it lay on the bare skin of my back, it made me tired, I could feel my head sinking lower with each second of rest. A man in a black tie was putting little pebbles on the top of my head, each one at a time, and with each one, my head sunk a little lower. I tried to shake them off and raise my head, but as hard as I shook they stuck firm. Thoughts ran a muck in my head, crashing into one another, just to end up running off in another direction, neurons snapped and popped, some just sizzling out, and I could feel it all. Every synaptic nerve screaming with pain, every neuron frying itself dry, and the overwhelming urge to just go to bed. Thats all I wanted, all I needed, sleep. If I where just to close my eyes, it could all be better, all be fixed, right? Black tie? If I just shut them for a second, maybe two, I'd still be able to open them, they'd still work, right?

…....Two. Three. Four. fi....

Ol' Black tie was back, to staple my eyes shut. So I yanked the chord to my sub-conscious, eyes snapping open, and there he was, grinning, ear to ear. He was a young man, but not a youthful one, face rough and bristled from the straight razor he often butchered his skin with. His greasy black hair dribbled down the sides of his head from underneath his black fedora. His skin was a pasty white as if he lived his life from dusk to dawn, and his eyes where lodged in deep crevices of blackness. If you saw him laying on the floor, eyes closed, you would swear him a dead person. His eyes were open though, and they flurried rapidly from one focus point to another, they where brimmed red in the whites, and bright golden yellow in the retina. “you don't look so hot jack” he smiled, winking.

“Should you really judge?” I chuckled to myself. The corners of his mouth sunk low, but only for a second. The mosquitos grew loud, chartering back an forth as the buzzed around me, I didn't care, let them watch, they couldn't help if they wanted to.

“Why don't you come with me? we can leave this horrid place, and go somewhere better, I promise.” His teeth were a nasty yellow tinge, spittle flew from his mouth as he spoke. “Have you ever known me to lie? Anita, have you known me to lie once? Ever?”

…...Four. Five. This isn't working, Monique get the defibrillator, its in the kitchen underneath the.....

It was quiet, the mosquitos had had their fill, and where silent now. Just me and Ol' Black tie. “So how bout it? Lets go, for a walk, no one says you can't come back.” he snickered, letting his eyes grow wild with amusement. I would of protested, I wouldn't have gone, I was just so damn tired, my head was so damn heavy, and I just couldn't shake the pebbles for the death of me. My mouth could not even shape the word “no” or a more polite “sorry I'm busy”. That was just too much work for me, maybe if I had a glass of water, or a bite to eat, or slept a little longer this morning, maybe. He frowned, waiting for my answer. I pushed a smile on my face. Then he did too, a little stronger one, then, well, then we went.


Anita Carlson


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