Lindsey Altom
Bio
For me, writing runs in the blood. I've written songs, poems and short stories ever since I was a little girl. I mostly like to write about my life experiences mixed with a little fiction or just things that come off the top of my head!
Stories (96)
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Vigilante
My whole life had been to fight for the light. I had known from a very early age that this was my purpose. I had encountered my fair share of darkness, trials and tribulations but throughout it all I knew that I was meant to stay with the light. I had questioned on occasion how things were run, why certain things were done the way they were done and Source had given me answers. Some had come from experiences that taught me lessons and some had come in immediate answers. Source was never angry at me for questioning but did warn me to not develop too much of a love for the dark side. In my younger years, I thought, "How ludicrous is that? I would never. So on the straight and narrow I am that I'll never fall for the dark side." The years passed, I aged, I went on many mission for Source, righting the wrongs that had occurred. Over the years, through my struggles, I developed a sense of longing. I was scarce to admit it to any of the other warriors but I was curious if you will of the dark. The way I looked at was the better you can understand the enemy, the easier it will be to defeat. One day, myself and a few other light warriors had been assigned to a certain part of the city to assist those in need. I was making my way back home through the forest when suddenly I saw a man, an evil man, assaulting a very young girl. Source had been clear on this, I could interfere but only to scare the man away and I was not to take his life. Although, I may or may not have slipped a time or two in these situations. I was about to run towards the situation when a man cloaked in darkness came out from the other side of the forest. I decided to wait and watch a moment. The man swiftly and quietly came up behind the evil man and in one efficient move slit his throat. I watched shocked and slightly in awe as the evil man crumpled to the ground. The evil man now a heap on the ground, as useless in death as he was in life. The man that had come from the shadows helped the young woman to her feet, spoke to her briefly, then she ran off in the opposite direction. I decided to continue watching. The cloaked man then pulled a torch and an accelerate from his satchel. I watched in fascination as he poured the accelerate onto the evil man clumped in a heap on the ground then torched the man in an all encompassing fire. As the fire blazed, my cold, dead heart started to warm. You might find that odd that the death of a person albeit an evil person by another man's hand, could warm my heart but it's true. I had, over the years, seen all kinds of evil and what Source wanted us to do to right these wrongs just seemed like a slap on the wrist in certain situations. I had developed what you might call a fire and a lust for justice and not just any justice, swift justice. The system was flawed. I had witnessed that first hand. Where was the justice when my ex husband had beat me and my children? "We don't have that authority here," I was told. So I asked Source and Source said to give it time and his due justice would be served. I have seen grown men that raped young children and was told, 'We'll put them away so they won't hurt anyone else." only for them to get out of prison on a technicality within the next few months. So, these evil people just get to keep spreading their evil and their hurt and that creates more evil and more hate all because we won't just take them out when they need to be taken out? You failed. Time for you to reincarnate and hopefully you learn a better lesson next life sir or mam. However, you do not get a free pass to continue spreading evil in this particular dimension. That is my opinion. But my opinion was not popular among the other light warriors and especially not with Source. So, after seeing this cloaked man that day in the woods, I decided to stalk him. He was my new secret obsession. I followed him for a few weeks and what I found astounded me. He was a vigilante. He did this sort of thing (the killing of evil people), often and seemingly with no one to answer to but himself. At about week two of following my mysterious cloaked man, Source came to me and asked me where I had been. You cannot lie to Source because Source always knows. So, I simply said, "I've been gathering research on vigilantes and light warriors." Source said, "I see. Child, you can dance with the darkness all you want but remember who your fighting for at the end of the day." With that, Source left. I didn't see this as a bad thing though. Vigilantes were simply dealing out due justice in a swift and efficient manner. The next week, as I was following my cloaked man through the forest he suddenly stopped. He turned his head to the side, smiled a sly smile then said to the trees and wind seemingly, "I wonder exactly how long your going to follow me light warrior. If you were going to report me, surely you'd have done it by now." Of course, he knew I was following him. Damn! I should've been more stealthy. Well, the jig was up. I stepped out from behind the grove of trees I'd been behind and said, "Well, then I guess I'll just follow you in the open." He responded, "How about you tell me why it is your following me?" Suddenly, he turned around and I could see his pale blue-green eyes. The truth was that there was a part of the so-called darkness that absolutely enthralled me. The swiftness of the vigilantes moves, the stealth, the power of taking someone's life that doesn't deserve to live, the fire behind that, the passion that must take, all of this lit up my insides like a fire in a dry forest. I craved it, wanted it, wanted to taste it, feel it moving inside me, I wanted to kiss the darkness and lick its lips. So, standing there, in his cloak of darkness, suddenly we were eye to eye and the space between us shortened quite quickly. All I could manage to say was, "Curiosity killed the cat." before we were all hands, moans, groans, lips and suddenly I was on the forest floor. As I gazed up at him, he looked at me with a longing so deep and I felt as if he was seeing me for who I truly was when so few had done so before. He kissed me deeply and passionately and I returned the favor. He said, "Yes?" and I shook my head yes. I could feel him thrusting inside me, the feel of him like nothing I'd ever felt before, I cannot tell you even to this day how I knew but I knew...he would be my lover forever. When we had climaxed we collapsed onto each other on the forest floor. We smiled and laughed together and then I said, "Well, the boss isn't going to like this." I had just went rouge, very rouge and I couldn't care less. I wanted him and that was all that mattered. In the days and weeks that followed, Source found out and informed me that I could not be a light warrior anymore if this were to continue so I became a healer and set up camp in the very forest I met my cloaked vigilante in, occasionally I go with him on his travels and we right the world of injustice together. We still fight our fights, the ones that are important to us. I think I just figured out that fighting for the light is not always so black and white and perhaps it doesn't have to be. After all, evil certainly doesn't think in black and white.
By Lindsey Altom8 days ago in Fiction
The Summer That Changed Everything
I looked at the ring on my finger. It was small, but that didn't matter to me. It was hot outside, but the sun was shining and the birds were singing despite the storm I felt in my heart. He had postponed the wedding...again. This time it was because he didn't like the venue we had picked out. He said that it felt more like my mother had picked out the venue. It was true that my mother had helped with quite a bit concerning the wedding. After all, I'm only 19 years old, and she knows more about weddings and social gatherings than I do, but this feels like a sign to me. I mean, how many times can one have something come up with planning a wedding and it not be a sign? The first time, it was the pastor who canceled. Then, my fiancé postponed it because he thought we didn't have enough money in the bank, and now this. I know we're young, but I love him with all my heart, and we've been together almost 5 years already. I want to be married, have children, and be settled. After all, that is what I've been taught and raised to do my entire life. When you are a girl and you live in the Deep South, you're expected to grow up, get married, and have babies right out of high school. I felt so uncertain now and sick to my stomach, so I turned out the lights and tried to get some sleep. It was a restless sleep; I tossed and turned all night. What did I want to do with my life right now if not marry the love of my life? I could go to college. I was planning on doing that anyway, as I want to be a teacher. However, if I weren't getting married, I could live the full college experience. That would please my mother and my stepfather. I could travel, maybe. I could go wherever I want to, and then I wouldn't have to face all these people asking me why I'm not married yet. The questions and assumptions are relentless in a small town. I could stay here with my grandma for a while longer and try to figure things out. Yes, that sounds like a good idea. Before I knew it, a couple of weeks had passed, a couple of boring weeks. I worked at my uncle's grocery store, where I had to answer questions about why my June wedding hadn't happened yet, and it was almost July. Why did this wedding keep getting postponed? I kept getting comments about how I didn't need to be married anyway because I was too young, or the opposite end of the spectrum, that I better hurry and get married before that boy runs off. I had spent most of my life with a controlling mother who nothing was ever good enough for and then this small town life where you had to live up to these impossible standards. I just wanted to find my way, be myself in this world instead of having someone tell me who I was supposed to be. I wanted to make my own decisions, and I was mad because I wanted my fiancé to be the first decision. He was supposed to be my "suck it" to everyone. This summer was not turning out the way it should have. My fiancé and I were still together, but I am starting to realize that he's not going to be my "suck it" to everyone. He's not going to be my "I'm going to do what I want and you can't stop me." And after some thought, maybe that's okay because after all, maybe that's not such a good reason to get married after all. I mean, I do love him, too, of course, but mostly, I wanted to get married this young to prove to everyone that we could make it. Then, one day, a recruiter from the Army Reserves came into my Uncle's grocery store. Sure, I'd seen several in my senior year of high school, but this one was different. This was a woman, and she looked like a badass in her uniform. She was in her dress uniform, which she called her "dress greens," and I was struck by the way she carried herself and the hard lines on her face that gave way to softness as she handed a child back his candy he had dropped while she waited in line. I felt like living with my mother growing up; I had already been through a war of sorts, and it struck me that this would be another way to stick it to people and do something that women usually didn't do. Also, a way to find myself, perhaps? I helped her to her car with her groceries, even though she didn't need it, and I talked her ear off with questions for the next 15 minutes. She was in her early 30s, as it turned out, and had been to Iraq. She caught some shrapnel from an IED and had to be put on a light-duty job, so she was a recruiter. She explained to me how I could get my college degree while serving in the military, and the military would pay for it. She handed me her card and told me if I had any questions to call her. When I spoke to my fiancé that night, he told me how he had thought about joining the military too. He didn't know if it'd be the right move for him, though. After some coaxing, I convinced him, and the next day we went to the recruiter's office together. The same recruiter that I'd seen the day before was there. She was honest about the hardships she'd seen, how hard it was to carry all the equipment on your back through the heat, then she shared how much the Army had given her a sense of purpose and a way to find herself outside of her family. As she put it, when you aren't allowed to have anything and you're left to start anew with just your military comrades, you learn not only your strength but what you're made of inside. When you are in certain situations and you respond, you learn a new thing about yourself every time. Whether good or bad, you learn. I didn't need to hear anymore. I signed the papers, and my fiancé followed suit. We walked out of that recruiter's office with a brand new future in our sights. On the way back home, riding in the passenger seat, I looked at my engagement ring once more. I didn't know when or if we would still be getting married, but somehow that didn't matter so much anymore. I was about to put myself to the test in ways I had never imagined before, and I would always love him no matter what.
By Lindsey Altom5 months ago in Fiction
A Day in my Life
As I put the laundry into the dryer and then put another load into the washer, I realize I still need to put up the leftovers from supper. The cat(the fat one that always wants food) meows loudly in protest as I put our food away. I smile down at him, "Ok, Macaroni, I'll feed you before bed." My daughter, Elizabeth, stands there waiting for me to come to bed. She has that thumb in her mouth again and her blanket/bear in her hands, and I've about given up hope of her ever stopping that thumb sucking. She is 10 years old and she'll be 11 in the Fall, and I swear she still acts like a 6-year-old sometimes. Hell, who am I kidding? That's most days. "I'm coming," I tell her as I finish feeding Macaroni and the other cats who decided to join in on the late-night snack. My life is chaotic, hectic, and I never get a moment to myself. I'm exhausted. I'm a single mom to a beautiful 10-year-old who just got diagnosed with autism, and a highly intelligent 17-year-old young man with ADHD. I keep two jobs just to make ends meet, and even that isn't enough sometimes. I've started back at college. I want to become a therapist someday, a crisis counselor. I should've done this long ago, and maybe I wouldn't be struggling so much right now. I can't lie because, for one, I'm not very good at it. My face tells the story. Life has not been an easy street for me. I don't have a savings account, I count pennies at the drive-through just to give my kid some lunch or to pay for gas for the car, and lying is not the only thing my face shows, it also shows the years. My children's father has never been very supportive, but we did love each other once upon a time. That feels like another lifetime now. Then, there was the toxic romance that about took everything from me. Now, I have tried to find love again, but it seems that the tank is empty. I'm happier and safer alone. Honestly, I don't have the energy for anyone else. My daughter needs me almost every second of the day and wants to know where I am down to the minute. I'm exhausted to the point my bones hurt. To the point, I cry. I keep pushing through each day by just saying, "Just do this one last thing and you can take a break," but the truth is? It never ends. I hope one day it does, but right now that day feels so far away. My beautiful baby girl, whom her father barely knows. She's so creative, smart, and she has such big dreams. I worry about her anxiety and social phobias. She is so extremely attached to me, and I am glad we are close, but I wish she felt comfortable enough with herself and the world around her to explore and figure out things for herself without having to hold my hand every step of the way. I'm angry to have to do this alone. I'm upset that I'm having to do this with no help from their father. He helps financially every once in a while. To be honest, what he gives me barely makes a dent in what it takes to raise these children. I'm doing it, though, and I'll do it again and again. Every damn day. Why? Because to me they are worth it. They are so worth it! And I am pissed that he doesn't feel the same! I'm pissed that I have to always be the strong one. I have to hold everything together because no one else will. The world is on my shoulders, and I feel every single bit of it. It is so heavy, and there is no one to help bear that weight at the end of the day. The sad thing is that I don't even trust anyone to help at this point because I feel like I'll owe them if they help. Everything comes at a price. Everyone wants something. Another little piece of me. I wonder as I lie watching my daughter sleep, my biggest fear and constant worry, "When will there be no more pieces of me left to give?"
By Lindsey Altom6 months ago in Confessions
Women
The sad truth is that we are taught from an early age as girls to obey and submit, that we are the weaker sex, and that we need to be hyper-aware of how we appear to others, especially boys. This mindset has been taught since Biblical times, but I think it needs to change. We’ve made some progress throughout history, such as the right to vote and the right to own property. Yes, in 1848, women couldn’t even own property.
By Lindsey Altom9 months ago in Viva
Strong
People are always telling me how strong I am, how resilient, how I always bounce back no matter the storm. I'm always told how brave I am and that I am looked at as people's hero for the way I just keep going through the hard no matter what as if I'm some unstoppable force. I'm always told I'll get through it because well, I always do and while yes, all these things are true and wonderful to be told; it's not easy. Yes, I do always rise from the dead, I do always keep going through the fire with gritted teeth but here is what you don't see...
By Lindsey Altom11 months ago in Confessions
