My Microfiction
Rise
She couldn’t sleep that night. It was as though the shadows were swallowing her soul. She felt like she couldn’t stand being inside her skin. She had to get out of there, out of her room, out of her mind. In pitch black she grabbed her keys. She didn’t put shoes on but she knew where everything was. She drove without her lights on. She chose to go to her place of solace; to the cliffs, or “the High Rocks” as she and her friends called it. The High Rocks overlooked a river that made the shape of a “u.” Although it usually provided a fine sight to her eyes, all she saw was darkness. She took careful steps closer to the edge of the cliff. She stopped and stood, staring into the darkness. She stood for a long while, not sure what or how to think but nevertheless was thinking. She didn’t like her feelings of emptiness and cold. She decided to jump and walked toward the end of the earth. Suddenly, she was startled. The wind rose from below and caressed her with a cool, whispering embrace. After the fear cleared from inside her she focused back to her doom. She closed her eyes. She took a step that she thought would end it all, instead just surprised her foot. Upon opening her eyes she caught the hiding sun begin to emerge from the darkness, warming her. The brilliance seemed to call her name, as if it were her unborn sky. “Oh” she said in a sigh. The wind felt like silk against her skin and her soul fell back in place. She studied the sun rise, then got back in her car and drove home with the lights on.
My Short Fiction
To Serve and Protect
Ron Hutchinson awoke to the familiar blasting of a repetitious tone from his alarm clock. It felt like a regular day to him but little did he know that today would be the day that would change his life forever. “Time for another day of fighting crime,” he boasted to his wife Donna beside him. He looked in the mirror and smiled as he put on his uniform. He loved his job and felt rather good.
Ron sipped his coffee in his recently redone kitchen, admiring the new maple cabinets. “This kitchen looks so much classier now, don’t you think?” he casually asked his wife. “Whatever,” she shrugged as she wondered to herself why she had married a high school fling. Ron glared at her. He knew she wasn’t happy. He saw the pictures his investigators shot of her and three other men. But he was also unfaithful. He had slept with countless women- married woman and plenty of prostitutes he later arrested. “WHATEVER? I spend my hard earned dollars to make our life better and you don’t even care! OF COURSE,” he shouted. He loved to provoke people. But Donna knew this all too well and said nothing. Her thoughts became at ease as her answer came in, her savior- her son Maxwell. “Good morning,” Maxwell said as he approached the shining new table. She rubbed his back as if to say good morning too. Ron stared at him up and down. “Why are you wearing all black? Do you want your father to look like he’s raised a nutcase or something?” Ron chastised. “You’ve raised a bright young boy,” Donna replied. “He’s 4 stars ahead of his class, isn’t that right Max?” she asked. Maxwell nodded his head before it sunk lower as he ate his cereal. Maxwell was seven but was not as innocent as a typical seven year old American boy could and should be. He had been tainted by the madness of mankind and knew a bad person when he saw one. He knew his father, the supposed stopper of evil doers, was one too. Ron threw his newspaper on the table, startling Maxwell, and marched out of the room. Donna continued to rub his back.
Though Ron had acted upset back at the house he still felt rather good as he cruised the streets suspiciously looking for suspicious people. He found some skateboarders riding at the public library. “HEY! What do you punks think you’re doing?” he asked as he cruised up to the boys. “Skating,” one of the boys stated. “Are you being fresh with me boy?” Ron asked. “No officer,” he replied. “Do you have any drugs or weapons on you?” “No,” they all said. “What did we do wrong officer?” one of the boys asked. Ron looked angry. “Should I suspect you have done something wrong? Put your hands up against the car so I can search you.” Ron found nothing on the boys. He walked over to a spot on the grass and pretended to pick something up. “What’s this?” he asked. The boys only looked at him in shock. Ron examined a sandwich bag. “You guys threw this hash when you saw me coming, didn’t you?” he asked. He didn’t mind getting rid of some hash, it didn’t do much for him anymore. Before the boys could respond he started hand cuffing them. He said aloud their rights with pride.
Meanwhile back at the house the telephone obnoxiously repeated its same old sound. Donna picked up the phone. It was the Department of Social Services. They explained to Donna that there had been a report from someone, they wouldn’t say who, that she was possibly victimized in domestic violence in their home. The anonymous source also said it was possible Maxwell was victimized as well. Tears and emotions flooded through her as she set up an appointment for an investigator to come to their house. Her hand was shaking as she hung up the phone. She couldn’t help but wonder who had reported her. Could it have been a nurse at a hospital? Was it perhaps a friend? She couldn’t be sure. The thought of leaving or turning in her husband after years of abuse crossed her mind every day. She did not want the consequences. Ron had worked so hard for his job and she was afraid of what he would do if he lost it. She didn’t have the confidence that she could take care of her and Maxwell by herself. Now she feared that the department would take away her only lifeline, the only person she cared more about than herself. Dark thoughts lingered through her mind.
Ron continued to spread his corruption throughout the day. He was driving down the highway when he spotted a car change lanes without putting on a signal and he pulled them over. He took their license and registration. “I smell marijuana,” he said. He didn’t really smell marijuana. “Have you guys been smoking?” he asked. They denied it. The boys did not permit a search and pleaded for him not to but Ron illegally searched them anyway. He found a pipe with resin, which was enough to arrest them. He was still happy as he cruised back to the Norfolk Police Department at the end of his shift.
Donna tried desperately to keep herself together. She attempted to do her usual routine. She sobbed as she mopped the floor. She shook as she washed the dishes. She had hoped that the music she selected would cheer her up as she drove to Maxwell’s school to pick up her beloved but it had failed to do so. She put on her fake smile as Maxwell crawled onto the car seat. She forced herself to make small talk. She asked him how his day was, how his friends were. Maxwell complied to her chit chat, but knew she was depressed. “What’s wrong Mama?” Donna smiled. He’s so bright she thought. Usually she could hide her true emotions well but her son was no typical person. “Honey, a lady is going to come to our house and ask us a few questions,” Donna replied. “Is she a cop?” Maxwell asked. “No,” she said, “but she does investigate. She wants to know if anyone has hurt you or I.” Maxwell was deep in thought. “What is she going to investigate?” he asked. His mother had never been more nervous to talk to her son at that point. She forced herself to speak. “She wants to know if there’s any violence in our home,” she said at last. Neither of them spoke for the rest of the car ride. She struggled to keep herself together. The thoughts in her mind seemed to rush like a waterfall eventually going to plummet. She was carefully folding laundry when she finally burst with emotions. She screamed as loud as she could as she tossed the dresser drawer she put away clothes into the wall. She fell to the floor and hunched her body as tight as possible. As she cried she noticed a white bag emerging slightly from the mess. She examined it closely as tears dripped down her face like the blood that often seeps from her skin.
At the station Ron was approached by the chief. “Ron meet me in my office, we need to talk,” he said. He didn’t look pleased. “Sure thing Phil,” Ron said. Ron was worried. “Have a seat,” Phil said as Ron entered the room. “Ron, we have a situation. Do you remember that guy you bagged the other day for selling cocaine?” Phil asked. “Yeah, of course I remember” Ron retorted. “Well,” Phil began, “as it turns out, an undercover from the Walpole Police Department happened to be working on him for quite awhile, and had been that day.” Ron panicked inside but kept a straight face. “He is making some claims,” Phil continued. “OH BULLSHIT!” Ron blurted. “Now I want to back you up Ron, but the FBI is now involved. They seem to think you have been tampering with the evidence.” Phil stated. The chief finished what he had to say about these kinds of procedures. Ron felt anger like he never felt before. “This whole thing will get settled,” Ron managed to say. He got up to leave. “I hope so,” Phil said. Ron cursed and beat the steering wheel as he drove home. “THAT NO GOOD COP! I’LL KILL HIM!”
Ron slammed the door to the house. He walked into his bedroom to find Donna sitting cross legged with a mirror on her lap with 8 lines of cocaine as she snorted the powder through a rolled up dollar bill. Ron was shocked. Donna looked up at him with glassy eyes that did not look like her own. “YOU BITCH!” Ron screamed as he ran at her. He grabbed her by the neck and punched her face brutally. “THAT’S EVIDENCE!” Donna screamed only because of the physical pain. Her face began to swell and blood ran out of her nose but that did not stop Ron from hitting her. He had never been so angry before. Maxwell ran into the room. “Stop hitting Mommy!” he yelled at his father. “Go to your room, NOW!” Ron demanded. Maxwell jumped on his fathers back, trying to separate him from his mother. With one hand Ron pushed Maxwell aside and he hit his head on the corner of a table. Maxwell started to cry. Ron relentlessly pounded on Donna. Maxwell went underneath the bed and picked up one of the pistols Ron proudly kept there ever since the boy could remember. He pointed it at his father. “FREEZE!” Maxwell stated. Ron stared at his son in shock. “Max, what are you doing? Put the gun down!” Ron said. “Let go of her!” Maxwell demanded. Ron was still holding Donna by her neck. “PUT THE GUN DOWN!” Ron yelled. He was so used to saying this to criminals, he never would have imagined his own young son would be pointing a weapon at him. “Not until you promise you won’t hit me or Mommy!” Maxwell cried. Donna spit blood into Ron’s face. Ron reached his arm back and gave a punch so devastating she fell to the floor. As soon as she fell Maxwell clicked off the safety and fired at his father. The bullet hit him directly at the rib. Ron’s scream terrified Maxwell. Ron had shot so many bullets in his life but never imagined how much pain it really caused. “Call 911” Donna painfully managed to say as she choked on her blood.
As Ron lied in the ambulance he felt more pain mentally than physically. He regret teaching his son how to use a gun, he regret bringing his work to his home, he regret not giving the compliments he wanted to give his family, he regret taking out his testosterone on everyone around him. He finally realized who he really was and the agony found him a new regret each day in his lonely jail cell.