Picking Up the Pieces (Challenge Fic PG-13)
Posted: Sat Jan 17, 2009 11:18 pm
Moonlight Mini Madness Challenge #1.
Title: "Picking Up the Pieces" by Bank1115
Starting Paragraph: by francis
"She ran out of reasons to stay inside. It was way too early but she couldn’t contain her excitement anymore. Putting a stray strand of hair back into the clasp she pushed the sliding doors to the garden open and carefully stepped barefoot over the rough tiles of the patio."
Rules:
-- 1000 word limit (buuut..no-one's going to the guillotine if a few words over!)
-- Start date: November 11 End date: November 18
-- open genre
-- submit your challenge fic by posting a link to your story in this thread when finished.
-- ready, steady *BANG* GO!!
Picking Up the Pieces
She ran out of reasons to stay inside. It was way too early but she couldn’t contain her excitement anymore. Putting a stray strand of hair back into the clasp she pushed the sliding doors to the garden open and carefully stepped barefoot over the rough tiles of the patio. Her little surprise package wasn’t very heavy; she could easily hold on with one hand and dangle her shoes in the other.
She had the perfect place already, of course. A little wooden house, bare and ready for him, for her, for their family. The sun was barely setting so she could see the splash of colors, red, golden and a brand of blue that was slowly bruised by purple clouds, without feeling much of the sting on her skin.
As she reached the driveway she slipped her shoes on and slid herself and the little package into her car. The top was down and she enjoyed the feel of the evening air kissing her cheeks, lips and tickling strands of hair this way and that. Every now and then a small noise perturbed her perfect enjoyment but it was nothing to push it aside. She was incredibly excited, after all, eyes wide and smile easy. Her plans and schemes of weeks were finally coming to an end and all would be well.
No, all would be ecstatic, sublime even.
She thought about stopping for a bottle of wine but ultimately discarded the idea. There would be plenty to drink and more than enough time for spirits later, and the last thing she wanted was to be late. Her smile widened and became sharper. The noises turned a notch higher but a glance back assured her everything was well within her control. She began humming to herself a little as she parked a small way from the house and got out. Her package was a little more cumbersome this time but with narrowed eyes and two hands she carried the little package into the house. She set her surprise down and arranged her white dress one last time before settling in a corner to wait for her love. Her little package glimmered in the dim light, all soft gold and white and blue.
She saw him come to her before he could see her. He was wearing black and holding a lantern high. She liked the choice of illumination and knew she would look beautiful in the flickering light: creamy skin, big black eyes and red lips. He opened the door and faced her at last, at long last; she let herself fall from her corner and set gentle hands on the little package, urging her forward. Her heart leaped in elation as he took the scene in. This was it. They would be together, forever. Coraline could smell his disbelief but above that was the sweet smell of fear coming from her surprise package, little Beth. She licked her lips. Plenty to drink.
“Everything’s going to be alright,” he said, but not to her. To the little package. “I’m not going to let you hurt her.”
Silly boy, Coraline thought, we won’t hurt her. She’ll be ours.
“We can make this work, Mick. You, me, and baby.” She loved him so much she wouldn’t live without him. If she wasn’t enough, she’d give him a family, something he’d always wanted, give him anything he ever wanted. She loved him.
“No. I won’t let you hurt her. I can’t.”
She grew angry suddenly and pushed the girl aside, like the rejected little present she was. He hadn’t liked her surprise but she knew Mick, knew that he desired her, craved her more than blood or family. All it ever took was a little push and he would fall right back with her.
That night she pushed with all her might, with every single drop of her violent, consuming love. She hurt him like he had hurt her, like he hurt her even then, and she knew they both liked it. Foreplay between them had never been gentle.
Still, there was something wrong. When she kissed him he flinched and when she drank him he ripped her off and threw her away. His eyes were wide and his hands cruel and as his gaze flickered to the golden present again, Coraline understood she had miscalculated.
And that was when she knew. She loved him. She loved him like fire loved kindling, with a consuming desire deep inside her, like a feeding in a dark, dark alley, sweet fear and hot blood pounding. She loved him more than she loved herself and so she fought less and gave more.
But he still hated her.
His hate was stronger than her love. Or, perhaps, his love for the little girl was stronger than his addiction. It didn’t matter much; in the end he was better than she was and when he sent that beautiful lamp tumbling to the floor, it was she who burned alone.
The sun rose softly, slowly, and the girl stopped crying. Her tears had fallen with muted touches to his shirt and Mick could smell them on him, mixed with ash and blood. He wondered if the little girl, Beth, was crying for both of them. He had no tears in the sun for Coraline, only unending ache. He was ripped open and bled dry. He was here with Beth and he was back in his human years and most of all he was burning with Coraline.
As Beth reached for him and slipped her warm little palm under his fingers, he smiled and began to pick up the broken pieces he was left with, one by one. For her he would kill, for her he had burned himself and his love, and perhaps for her he could live again.
Title: "Picking Up the Pieces" by Bank1115
Starting Paragraph: by francis
"She ran out of reasons to stay inside. It was way too early but she couldn’t contain her excitement anymore. Putting a stray strand of hair back into the clasp she pushed the sliding doors to the garden open and carefully stepped barefoot over the rough tiles of the patio."
Rules:
-- 1000 word limit (buuut..no-one's going to the guillotine if a few words over!)
-- Start date: November 11 End date: November 18
-- open genre
-- submit your challenge fic by posting a link to your story in this thread when finished.
-- ready, steady *BANG* GO!!
Picking Up the Pieces
She ran out of reasons to stay inside. It was way too early but she couldn’t contain her excitement anymore. Putting a stray strand of hair back into the clasp she pushed the sliding doors to the garden open and carefully stepped barefoot over the rough tiles of the patio. Her little surprise package wasn’t very heavy; she could easily hold on with one hand and dangle her shoes in the other.
She had the perfect place already, of course. A little wooden house, bare and ready for him, for her, for their family. The sun was barely setting so she could see the splash of colors, red, golden and a brand of blue that was slowly bruised by purple clouds, without feeling much of the sting on her skin.
As she reached the driveway she slipped her shoes on and slid herself and the little package into her car. The top was down and she enjoyed the feel of the evening air kissing her cheeks, lips and tickling strands of hair this way and that. Every now and then a small noise perturbed her perfect enjoyment but it was nothing to push it aside. She was incredibly excited, after all, eyes wide and smile easy. Her plans and schemes of weeks were finally coming to an end and all would be well.
No, all would be ecstatic, sublime even.
She thought about stopping for a bottle of wine but ultimately discarded the idea. There would be plenty to drink and more than enough time for spirits later, and the last thing she wanted was to be late. Her smile widened and became sharper. The noises turned a notch higher but a glance back assured her everything was well within her control. She began humming to herself a little as she parked a small way from the house and got out. Her package was a little more cumbersome this time but with narrowed eyes and two hands she carried the little package into the house. She set her surprise down and arranged her white dress one last time before settling in a corner to wait for her love. Her little package glimmered in the dim light, all soft gold and white and blue.
She saw him come to her before he could see her. He was wearing black and holding a lantern high. She liked the choice of illumination and knew she would look beautiful in the flickering light: creamy skin, big black eyes and red lips. He opened the door and faced her at last, at long last; she let herself fall from her corner and set gentle hands on the little package, urging her forward. Her heart leaped in elation as he took the scene in. This was it. They would be together, forever. Coraline could smell his disbelief but above that was the sweet smell of fear coming from her surprise package, little Beth. She licked her lips. Plenty to drink.
“Everything’s going to be alright,” he said, but not to her. To the little package. “I’m not going to let you hurt her.”
Silly boy, Coraline thought, we won’t hurt her. She’ll be ours.
“We can make this work, Mick. You, me, and baby.” She loved him so much she wouldn’t live without him. If she wasn’t enough, she’d give him a family, something he’d always wanted, give him anything he ever wanted. She loved him.
“No. I won’t let you hurt her. I can’t.”
She grew angry suddenly and pushed the girl aside, like the rejected little present she was. He hadn’t liked her surprise but she knew Mick, knew that he desired her, craved her more than blood or family. All it ever took was a little push and he would fall right back with her.
That night she pushed with all her might, with every single drop of her violent, consuming love. She hurt him like he had hurt her, like he hurt her even then, and she knew they both liked it. Foreplay between them had never been gentle.
Still, there was something wrong. When she kissed him he flinched and when she drank him he ripped her off and threw her away. His eyes were wide and his hands cruel and as his gaze flickered to the golden present again, Coraline understood she had miscalculated.
And that was when she knew. She loved him. She loved him like fire loved kindling, with a consuming desire deep inside her, like a feeding in a dark, dark alley, sweet fear and hot blood pounding. She loved him more than she loved herself and so she fought less and gave more.
But he still hated her.
His hate was stronger than her love. Or, perhaps, his love for the little girl was stronger than his addiction. It didn’t matter much; in the end he was better than she was and when he sent that beautiful lamp tumbling to the floor, it was she who burned alone.
The sun rose softly, slowly, and the girl stopped crying. Her tears had fallen with muted touches to his shirt and Mick could smell them on him, mixed with ash and blood. He wondered if the little girl, Beth, was crying for both of them. He had no tears in the sun for Coraline, only unending ache. He was ripped open and bled dry. He was here with Beth and he was back in his human years and most of all he was burning with Coraline.
As Beth reached for him and slipped her warm little palm under his fingers, he smiled and began to pick up the broken pieces he was left with, one by one. For her he would kill, for her he had burned himself and his love, and perhaps for her he could live again.
I liked the way you worked the elements into the story-line. Good job. "She loved him like fire loved kindling." Very true to character.
. 
