I Told Her Not To Go

I told her not to go
But inside I wanted to say leave,
She’d hurt me so many times
Yet, my heart was still on my sleeve.

I told her not to go
I don’t think I could love another,
How long had it been going on?
Your sleeping with my brother.

I told her not to go
But now jealousy consumes my heart,
I invited him to join us
He must pay; he played his part.

I told her not to go
She really shouldn’t have listened,
Because her lover now lays dead
The murder weapon; it still glistened.

I told her not to go
But she stayed and now she pays,
The knife feels right in my hand
As I end her unfaithful days.

The Battle Had Just Begun

Prompt: the battle had just begun

He sighed as he realised that the battle had just begun.

It wasn’t the news that he had hoped to hear and momentarily the world went black, and he heard a rushing, roaring sound in his ears.

As he became aware of his surroundings again, he caught his doctor’s eye, and he could see the sympathy and pity etched into his face.

He turned to his left and looked at his wife. She was pale and shaky. Her eyes were full of tears, and her words trembled as she spoke, but ever the practical one, she was already asking the questions that needed to be asked.

He didn’t want to know at the moment; he just needed a second, a minute, an hour to catch his breath.

He sighed again; the battle had just begun, but he would win it in the end.

My Cat Sooty

Prompt: A day in the life of your pet.

I watch as she picks up her bag and puts on her coat and I know that that means she is heading out. Sure enough, a few minutes later, I hear her shout ‘Bye Sooty’ and she is gone. Why she insists on calling me that I don’t know. I’ve never responded to it. Sooty indeed! I’ve told her several times that my name is Empress!

As soon as the door closes I’m up and into the kitchen. Sometimes she is only gone a few minutes, so I need to be quick. I love the cookies that she keeps in the cupboard, but when I jump onto the kitchen sides to get at them, she always shhh’s me off. I can smell that there are some there today, so I jump up onto the side and paw at the cupboard. If it’s loose then I can sometimes paw it open: once I even got a cookie.

I was so engrossed in my desperate attempt to get a cookie that I didn’t hear her come back.

“Get down off there Sooty!” she shouted.

I jumped down and ran for it but not before I shouted over my shoulder at her, “It’s Empress not Sooty!”

The Letter

Prompt

Character: a police inspector    Place: flight of uneven stairs

Situation: two more days to live    Object: a submarine   When: when we were in France

Inspector Radley put his hands onto the side of the boat to steady himself, the speed that they were going at he was surprised that no one had fallen overboard!

It felt like an age before he finally saw the submarine in the distant waters. He still couldn’t believe that he was even here! Whisked away from his usual duties because of an urgent message he had received from his life-long friend and Commander in the navy, just that morning.

The message had been vague. It read:

Dear Brian, do you remember when we were in France last year and I got taken away on an urgent matter? Things have come to a head. Please come, it’s a matter of life and death, transport has been arranged, we need to talk. I have been told I only have a few days to live, hurry! Regards John.

Brian kept thinking what that last sentence implied and he had to swallow several times to get rid of the lump in his throat. He couldn’t bear the idea that John wouldn’t be part of his life for much longer.

Finally, the boat pulled up next to the submarine and Brian wished that he had better sea legs as he tried to navigate himself up the uneven step ladder that they had thrown over the side. Eventually he reached the top and was distraught to see that his once tall proud friend was now a shadow of his former self, he wouldn’t have even recognised him if he hadn’t of been expecting to see him there. What on earth has happened? Brian thought.

The Tree

Prompt: evil, yacht, tree

As Bertie cut down a few branches from an old tree he felt an overwhelming sense of evil and foreboding come over him. He looked around trying to sense what had caused the feeling, but the only thing that it could be from was the tree. He carried on chopping regardless and he pushed the feeling aside knowing that such things were ridiculous, trees were not evil! So, he continued until he had enough wood to make the promised toy yacht for his young nephew.

As he gathered the branches into his arms again, he felt like something bad was about to happen, and again, he brushed the warning aside, he really wasn’t one for silly superstitions.

He headed back home and spent the next few hours making the yacht ready for Charlie's visit later. As he hoped the yacht was a big hit, Charlie loved his gift so much that he headed straight upstairs to use the bath so that he could test his new toy out. Even his Uncle telling him he could only fill the bath a few inches didn’t curb his excitement.

Ten minutes passed, and Bertie headed upstairs wondering why Charlie was so quiet. He let out a yell of shock and anguish as he found his beloved nephew floating face down in the bath, the yacht sitting in the shallow water next to him.

If only Bertie could have seen the voodoo doll that lay embedded in the tree that he had so casually cut up.

The Storm

Prompt: it felt like the sky had fallen in.

Bang!

Beth cringed as another piece of garden furniture hit hard against the window and she was surprised that it didn’t break. She closed her eyes tight and tried to pretend that the storm wasn’t happening.

The weatherman had been warning all week that a big one was coming, but they were so often wrong that preparations this time just hadn’t happened. Beth wished that she had listened to her husband, Pete when he had wanted to prep the house and evacuate.

Bang!

Something else smacked against the window but this time it didn’t hold and broke. Suddenly the room was sent into a frenzy as papers and belongings were whipped around by the wind.

Beth hoped Pete had found somewhere safe to shelter. They had spoken a while ago and she had promised to leave the house and head to the local emergency shelter at the school, but she had been delayed and now it was too late to leave.

Just then the wind picked up even more and Beth could hear the house creaking. Perhaps it would be safer out there, after all, Beth thought, but too late as suddenly the ceiling began to fall in and Beth felt like the sky was falling in on her.

An hour later, Pete brought the car to an abrupt halt at the pile of rubble that had once been his house. He was really glad that Beth had relented and gone to shelter in the safety of the school as he couldn’t see anyone surviving that!

Don't Snoop!

Prompt: a babysitter is looking around her employer’s house and finds a disturbing picture.

Jane was relieved that Billy had finally settled down for his nap and it was now time to explore. It was the best part of her job, having the opportunity to have a nose around people’s houses. She loved the insight that it gave her into their private lives. And as long as she put everything back as she found it, her employers would be none the wiser. No harm done! She worked for a high-end babysitting agency and some of the places she had worked in left her in awe of the wealth.
Jane hadn’t met Billy’s dad yet, his mum had seen her in and had left to meet her husband at the theatre, so Jane started with his office first wondering what sort of man he was and what secrets she may find.
She went straight to the bottom drawer of his desk and it held a big shock. There was a huge pile of photos all being held together by an elastic band. The top picture showed the body of a lady who had a knife sticking out of her chest. The next was of a man's severed head, his lifeless eyes seemed to be staring at Jane out from the photo. A quick flick through the rest of the pictures left Jane feeling cold and shaken. Dead people in a variety of poses. Different methods of murder on display.
What manner of a man is he? Jane wondered. And does his wife know?
Jane wanted to call the police and leave straight away but she couldn’t as she had Billy to consider, and she knew she would lose her job for snooping. Instead, she sat shaking and scared until she heard them returning. She pressed 999 on her phone so she just had to press the green button to call for help if she needed it, but the couple came in smiling and happy. They paid Jane and she left the house as quick as she could, the couple thought she was a bit weird, but Billy was safe and happy, so they were too.
The next day when Billy’s dad went into his office he realised the babysitter had been snooping in his drawer and he now knew why she had been acting so strangely. He smiled as he looked at his photos of the props that he had made for several tv shows.

Go Away!

Prompt: Tonight, death has to be invited in.

Katie was just drifting off to sleep when there was a sharp knock on her bedroom door.

“Go back to bed Tommy!” she shouted at her younger brother through the door. “I’m too tired to read you any more stories tonight.”

Katie burrowed back into her duvet and closed her eyes, hoping that she would be able to drift back off to sleep, when there was a harder and louder knock on the door.

“I’m serious Tommy! Go and find mum if you need something.”

Suddenly Katie felt the hairs stand up all over her body and her stomach clenched in fear when a deep, gravelly voice from beyond the door said, “It’s not Tommy. He and your parents are not available anymore I’m afraid. How about you come and open the door for me? Tonight, Death has to be invited in.”

lullaby

Prompt: lullaby

The lullaby soothed her as the pain once again swept through her body. Her daughter’s voice sounded beautiful. She was singing to her softly, drowning out the unpleasant sounds of the busy hospital ward.

She reached for her daughter’s hand as the pain hit her again, and as she felt the warmth and squeeze in return, instead of fighting, she gave in and let go, gently floating away.

Mary carried on holding her mum’s hand, singing her lullaby, long after her mum had gone

The Graveyard

Prompt: a tombstone, a first kiss, a butterfly collection.

Hayley walked through the gates of the graveyard and the fluttering’s of nervous excitement she had been feeling all day, turned to apprehension.

Why on earth did Martin want to meet here for a first date? Very strange. It’s not quite where she had imagined she would be for her first date, and hopefully her first kiss, but nevermind.

She had met Martin while she was on a school trip to the museum. Their eyes had connected through the glass display of a butterfly collection and she had been mesmerised ever since.

Deep within the graveyard, Martin paced in front of his family tombstone. He had already prepped the ground in anticipation of Hayley’s arrival.

“Don’t worry dad,” he whispered to a corpse, “fresh blood will soon be here. You will be awake again before the sun goes down.”

The Locked Door

Prompt: The Locked Door (why is it locked and what is behind it?)

I ran past the basement door as quickly as I could, as I always do. It has been locked for as long as I can remember, my parents were very clear when they told me that it was never to be opened and that if I disobeyed there would be trouble like I had never known before.

That warning didn’t stop me one day during my rebellious teenage years. I remember trying the handle, it was really stiff and noisy. I’d given it a pull, but I didn’t get any further as my dad caught me. Oh my! Did I get a beating that day! I have never touched the door since.

Ridiculous really, I’m not a child anymore but I’m still scared of that door. I wonder what secrets are behind it that would turn a usually kind dad into a raging hurtful maniac. But I will never know. Packing up the house after my parents had been killed in a car crash last week had been traumatic enough. Whatever secrets they were keeping from me can stay that….secret. The next owners can deal with it.  I leave the house without touching the door.

Down in the basement a chained up, starving girl gives up hope of living. He hadn’t been down to feed her in days and her water supply had now run out. Forgotten and alone she curls into a ball and waits for death to arrive.

The Poisoned Pencil

Prompt: The Poisoned Pencil

Matthew slammed himself against Elizabeth’s bedroom door, the frame rattled a little but didn’t give way, so he took a few paces back and launched himself at the door with all his weight behind him.

This time the door gave way and Matthew found himself propelled into her room at speed. It was as he had feared, Elizabeth was slumped at her desk, the poisoned pencil in her hand. When he had noticed it missing from his study desk he had hoped it wasn’t Elizabeth who had borrowed it. He now cursed himself for being so careless.

The pencil had been laid out ready for his brother, Ben, to use. He was always taking things that didn’t belong to him. The speed at which he was spending their inheritance meant that Matthew had felt he had no choice but to act.

Now, instead of Ben laying dead, it was beloved niece.

Drawn to the room by the commotion, Ben entered the room and let out a wail as he saw his daughter. He ran to her and gently removed the pencil from her hand. Even in his state of grief, Matthew couldn’t help but smile. Problem solved!

The Lying Millionaire

Prompt: He was a millionaire, but he was also a liar.

Peter walked out of the house and had to stop himself from whooping with joy. Another old couple had given him a large summed cheque for a charity that only existed on paper. And this gullible pair had handed it over to him on the first visit, it usually took three or four. Suckers!

‘Now I just need to decide how to spend this one,’ he thought, as he headed to his car. ‘Joyce needs another horse as she said her one is getting too small, but Jonny needs a new car, his one is nearly six months old. Hummmm, decisions.’

Peter was so lost in his daydreaming of spending someone else’s money that he didn’t see the car coming fast down the street as he stepped out.  The last thing he sees is the old couple’s cheque flapping in the wind, which then finally fluttered down to land on his blood-soaked distorted body.

COMPETITION WIN!

So I am finally a published author! My short story 'I Can't Look' that I entered into the City of Stories competition was the winning entry for the borough of Barking and Dagenham. I still can't believe it 😊😊😊. Spread The Word (who organised the competition) has put together an anthology of the boroughs winning entries and I feature on page 66. It is an amazing feeling seeing your own work in print......the first of many I hope.

The Retrieval

The Retrieval

by 

Vicki Taylor

Paul looked at his watch, nearly time, so he got out of his car and pulled the peak of his cap low over his eyes. In this unfamiliar environment, he wasn’t sure where the CCTV cameras were, urgency had prevented his usual pre-surveillance techniques.

It wasn’t his choice of meeting place, too exposed, but he had no choice, he needed the information. He had been brought to the affluent part of the city. Tall, three storey town houses formed a square around a central fenced garden; years ago, these areas wouldn’t have been open to the likes of him.

Paul walked through the gate and a man got up from a bench and walked towards him, as he got near Paul automatically put his hand on the knife that he kept in his waistband. He tensed as the man reached out his hand but he was just offering Paul a piece of paper.

Paul took it and they parted; no eye contact or a word spoken. He opened the paper and read an address. It meant nothing, this city was alien to him. No doubt why Barry had chosen here to hide, but he had underestimated him; what Barry had stolen, Paul would travel anywhere to retrieve.

Back in his car and Paul entered the address into his SATNAV and was soon driving down a road with high-end boutiques, well-dressed women and expensive cars.

He drove across a railway track and the scenery soon changed. Paint was peeling from run down houses, cheap shops and cafes. Children were running wild and youths were huddled in groups with their heads down and hoods up.

As Paul reached the address he pulled up a few houses down so that he could watch without being seen. He resisted the urge to run across the street and barge in, but no, he needed to be smart, so he did what he was good at. He sat, he watched, he waited.

Slowly, day turned into night and the city fell asleep. Paul was wide awake; the time had come to retrieve what had been stolen.

He was surprised at the ease of entering Barry’s house, not a single guard! Perhaps he doesn’t know the worth of what he had! A quick quiet search downstairs proved fruitless so Paul headed upstairs. Knife in hand, he turned the handle to Barry’s bedroom and straightaway saw the key on a chain around his neck. 

Paul had been undecided about whether to kill Barry, by putting the chain around his neck, Barry had sealed his own fate. Paul loomed over him and with one single, hard and deliberate motion he pushed his knife into Barry’s chest, straight into his heart.

With a sigh of relief at having his hands once again on his key, Paul headed out. His family was safe again; no one could ever be allowed to get access to the safety deposit box containing details of where he had hidden them. 

Mr. Linden's Library

This piece is one of my favourite's that I have written. It was inspired by an image in a book by Harris Burdick. (due to copyright issues I can't post the picture.)

Mr. Linden's Library

He had warned her about the book. Now it was too late. She looked peaceful enough and for that he was thankful, for some of his books did not make the ending pleasant.
Mr. Linden took a step closer to her lifeless body fearful of the magic in the book, knowing it had not yet run its course. He knew he couldn’t wait too long to close its heavy pages because the life from within was already escaping.
Another step forward and he noticed the leaves growing out from within the pages were looking, feeling, testing, finding its way, silently creeping. One stem touched the arm of Mary and for a second he thought he saw the plant flinch and retreat a little. Impossible though, he thought as the books fear nothing. His long, horrid, traumatic life with them had taught him that.
This time the movement from the growing stem was obvious. It touched Mary’s arm and flinched. Then the unimaginable happened, Mary moved her arm! Now Mr. Linden was very scared, not just from the still open book but from Mary too. What manner of a being survived opening a book from his library?

I Remember.....

by Vicki Taylor

I remember you with fondness

   As I think of all we shared,

   The good times and the bad ones,

   You always showed you cared.

I remember you with gratitude

   For all you did for me,

   You made me look to my future

   So that I had the courage to be.

I remember you with pain

   As I have a heart that’s broke in two,

   And a pain that twists inside me

   Every time I think of you.

I remember you with joy

   As you were one of the best,

   You always put us children first

   Even when we were being a pest.

I remember you with pride

   For all that you went through,

   We shared lots of tears together

   But we had lots of good laughs too.

I remember you with anger

   As even without you life goes on,

   And I never wanted to have to

   Live life with you being gone.

I remember you with hope

   Because I know you watch us still,

   You cry and laugh along with us

   And I know that you always will.

I remember you with love

   And I tell you that each day,

   As well as all the things you miss

   Because you went away.

I remember you with hurt

   As I lost both mum and friend,

   And life goes on day by day

   But this broken heart won’t mend.

My Eye's See

My Eye's See

My eye’s see you suffering

    Sometimes it’s hard to look,

My eye’s see you fading

   Like the ink in an old book,

My eye’s see you smiling

   As the grandchildren stop by,

My eye’s see you dying

   It’s hard to see you cry,

But most of all my eyes see the amazing mum you are,

For all the love you gave to us makes you the best by far. 

The Man In The Mirror

PROMPT: picture of a mirror

The Man In The Mirror 

I can hear him in my head, constantly whispering, coaxing me to do bad things. No! I’m a good girl I tell myself and to prove it I bake my bedridden mother a cake to have with her afternoon tea.

When I walk past my bedroom the whispers become a shout and I cast a nervous glance at the mirror wanting to make sure it was still covered. Damn! The cat must have been on the dresser again as the cover has been knocked off.

He catches my eye and I am lost, powerless to not obey, I walk to the dresser and sit down and I’m held captured by his gaze.

Instead of my reflection in the mirror, it’s him. A man very similar in looks to me, except his eyes. There is no life in his. I don’t quite know what he whispers: eye’s locked I enter a trance.

The next time I become aware I am standing over my sleeping mother with a pillow in hands, just about to smother her! I hear his cursing in my head as yet again he fails.

I am a good girl.

The Old Man

PROMPT: A character, a lift and a boat

THE OLD MAN

By

Vicki Taylor

            Hilary hated this lift! An old lift in an old building, and not just any old building either but her bosses house. He scared the life out of her, and the noises of the creaking, shuddering lift just increased her fears.

It was her own fault she had ended up here so she shouldn’t complain. The old man had been looking for someone to pass his books onto and she had made sure that her name was top of the list. She had to get her hands on those books- her greed for what they contained made her fears worth bearing.

Stories of the old man were whispered around his library, which was set in the basement of his mansion. How he had gone exploring to some distant place with some friends. They were missing for years until one day he was found drifting at sea, in a boat, alone, just clutching a pile of books. Claiming no knowledge of where he had been, where his friends were, or where the books had come from.

But I know. I caught a glimpse once of the pages of those books. The images of his friends with a look of terror on their faces, arms outstretched, reaching to escape the pages.

Six books and six missing friends.