Love
Safe Haven
It is my wedding day and I wanted to tell you all a little story. Needless to say, I’m utterly terrified, excited, nauseous and madly in love with the woman I’m about to share the rest of my life with. As I stand at this alter, my brother at my side as best man, my parents seated in the first pew, surrounded by friends and family, I can’t help but run through the road that brought me here. It has been quite the journey and I will share it with you in a moment. But, first a little background. I should introduce myself. I am William Jackson Chambers III. The son of William Jackson Chambers II Earl of Danwhith and Countess Anna Rosamond Wallis-Chambers and yes, I am British and yes, I am a part of the aristocracy England is so very famous for and yes, I do know Prince William and Harry. I am a doctor by trade and a damn good one if I say so myself and I do, say so that is. I am the eldest of three children. Other than my little brother who stands beside me, I have a little sister that was born between us. I suppose after me my mum needed a little break. She always said I was a handful and it hadn’t changed as I grew from a boy to a man. That is an entirely different story that I’ll save for another time. What I will tell you about that time is that I was always independent and extremely stubborn, like my father. My father and I have had our rough patches over the years. As first born, it was my birth right and my duty to take his place as Earl when the time came and I was groomed as such. I will admit that I was ready and willing to take my title as Earl of Danwhith, until ‘her’. Who is ‘her’ you ask? Well, ‘her’ walked into the hospital ER where I had taken on work in our sleepy little village with a sprain ankle, a fractured tibia in her left arm and a few scrapes and bruises on her right arm. She had taken a tumble on one of the walking trails near the river. Her name was Krysten and she was an American, visiting England. She was absolutely stunning, tall, athletic build, blonde hair, blue eyes and a smile that could stop a raging bull in its tracks. Needless to say, I was smitten at first sight. Six weeks later I had quit my job, packed my things, followed her to the States severing all ties to my title, my family. A rash decision I know but you see I was in love and you all well know love doesn’t allow you the comfort of carefully laid out plans for the future. So, with that being said I found myself in Texas of all places. I found a fellowship in a hospital. I moved into this quaint little farmhouse with the woman I loved and everything was absolutely perfect. Life was amazing for a whole six months until the day I came home earlier than usual from a double shift and found my stunning girlfriend in bed with the postman that lived three houses over with his mother and grandmother. Cliché I know but I swear to you it’s the God honest truth. I spent two nights in the county jail and the court hearing didn’t go very well for me. I ended up losing my fellowship and my home. How? Well, the hospital didn’t appreciate the negative press because of one of their doctors and well without a job I couldn’t afford the solicitor to defend me against the charges without selling my home. What charges? The charges for what I did to the postman the day I found him delivering a package to my girlfriend in our bedroom. Oh, you want to know exactly what happened when I caught them together? Yes, well there’s this partial wooden poll post in front of the house about three feet from the road. I dragged him by the hair out of the house butt naked as they say, tied him to the fence wearing only the hat from his uniform and wrote ‘honk if you see my package’ across his chest in permanent marker. The sheriff picked me up about two hours later as I finished eating a late lunch at my favorite diner in town.
By Gail Alston4 years ago in Fiction
The Crystal
Corey picked up his keys and wallet from the glazed tray as he stepped out into the cold. It had been 40 weeks since he was forced to move into this incomplete apartment. Into this broken life. Empty rooms, an unmade bed, half eaten cans of food which came equipped with their own families of flies, and stale bottles were the only company which greeted our new friend day to day. He found the less time he could spend inside the better. What began as nightly drives to distract his mind were now necessary just to prevent from gagging on the apartment’s air.
By Clayton Cook4 years ago in Fiction
Jazmine and Carmilla vs. the Ancient Vampire
Jazmine and Carmilla vs. the Ancient Vampire 1 Jazmine Jazmine Thorne meditated while drinking herbal tea and chanting below the blacked-out mirror on the red-and-black, sloping ceiling of her basement ritual room. The flickering of the black and white cast ominous shadows upon her white Tau robe and golden slippers.
By Evelina Vale4 years ago in Fiction
Letters to Daddy
Letters to Daddy __ 11/10/14 Daddy, I was wondering. What if the things we’re afraid of saying out loud are the things that need to be said most? Like “stop drinking”. “I hate it when you drink”. “Bud Light isn’t your friend; I am.” “Put the can down.” You were never you when the cans touched your lips. I watched endlessly as you swallowed your poison; then listened as you reflected the venom back at us. I witnessed a suicide and I did nothing. We did nothing. Boy, did you show us that.
By Tiffani Gaines4 years ago in Fiction
Branching Out
Marla flexed whatever abdominal muscles she dearly hoped she had and sucked in her gut and held it there, having the twofold effect of masking her non-ironing board belly and pushing her chest out a smidge. She also wore a loose black Zeppelin top to further obscure the stomach she looked at in the mirror before her face every morning. She had, one morning, actually taken a silver dollar from her dad’s collection to verify that that was indeed the size of her areolas. They loomed large in her mind’s eye, infusing whatever daydreams of a date escalating to the stage of bra removal with a more-than-butterflies flutter of anxiety; same with the nickel-sized mole on her back that sprouted a single hair. She’d just plucked it out, and had about twenty-four hours in the clear.
By Koby Sampson4 years ago in Fiction
To Love My Best Friend
In short, I fell in love with my best friend. And I think I finally came to terms with it. But I'm not sure if I'm ready to completely accept. I don't want to be the one to ruin our friendship with her. But I'll give you snippet of what it is like having a best friend like her.
By K.J.George4 years ago in Fiction
