Friday, February 18, 2011

39 is for Trente-Neuf!

Welcome to Friday's Short Stories,

Today isn't really a Short Story but more along the lines of an excerpt from my newest book, The Destroyer.  This is what I have so far. I hope you all like it.

The Destroyer


Chapter One – The Beginning



    “That’s it. One more push Mrs. Lansing. You can do it. Now Push!” said the doctor as the women squeezed her husbands hand. The hand turned an off white color from the strangled pressure and he tried his best to hold back his discomfort.

The babies cry erupted through the delivery room. The doctor handed the newborn over to the nurse and gave her strike instructions to make sure the baby was well taken care of in the room next door before she was to be shown to the parents. She nodded and headed in the direction of the room the doctor had pointed to.The nurse handled the infant with care, wiping her down with a towel and cleaning out her lungs with a little blue tool. She placed a small pink rectangular blanket on the counter and folded the child into it.

She smiled down at her handy work, “Now don’t you look cute little one.”

The infant looked up at the unfamiliar woman and squirmed. The nurse picked up the little girl and carried her back into the delivery room. The doctor was standing by the new parents who were smiling at each other happily. He turned around to the sound of the swinging doors and smiled. The young nurse handed the wrapped bundle over to the doctor and smiled at the parents.

“Congratulations!” she said before she disappeared back into the other room.

“Thank you.” The man and woman said together smiling at the nurse before turning their attention back to the pink bundle in their doctor’s arms.

The doctor smiled at them and said, “Congratulations on the birth of your very first baby. It is a girl. Do you have a name picked out for her?”

The man looked at his wife and gently wiped the sweat from her forehead, “My wife and I made an agreement a few months back. We agreed that she would be the one to choose the babies name.”

His wife smiled sweetly at him and looked at the doctor. “I want to name her Nykole Lansing. Her name means people of victory.”

“Nykole it is then. That is a beautiful name Mrs. Lansing. You will be able to leave the hospital with your new baby in a few days. Your husband is welcome to stay here with you or he can return home. I will make sure the birth certificate is ready when you leave. Today is September 8th, 1991, the birth of Nykole Lansing.” He said shaking the husband’s hand before he left the room.


“Nykole, if you don’t get up right now. You’re going to be late for school.” Her mother said from the hallway.

Nykole moaned as she pulled the covers over her head.

I don’t want to get up,” she thought.

Mrs. Lansing stormed into the room five minutes later, fuming.

“If you don’t get up this instance,” she growled “So help me, I will ground you for a month. Do you hear me, Nykole? I don’t plan on playing these games today.”

Her mother waltzed over to her daughter’s bed and threw the covers off of her. Nykole glared up at her mom. She sighed and sat upright, placing her feet on the cold hardwood floor.

“Thank you for getting up this oh so beautiful morning.” Mrs. Lansing said before disappearing back out the door and down the hallway.

Nykole moved carefully around the clutter on her bedroom floor. She liked clutter; it always seemed to soothe her. She rummaged through her closet, pulling out a green tank top and a white pair of jean shorts. Nykole examined herself in the mirror, brushing through her tangled dark chocolate mess of hair. She sighed pulling the dark brown strands up into a messy ponytail before she high tailed in out of her room, grabbing her school bag on the way.

“Nykole, slow down before you trip over something.” Mrs. Lansing voice exploded from her bedroom door.

“You said it yourself that I was going to be late for school,” she screamed back at her mother as she sprinted down the stairs, grabbing her car keys on the key hook and then running out the door.

Nykole jogged up to her 1999 Ford Mustang and jabbed the key into the keyhole. She twisted right, unlocking the door and pulled it open, she jumped into the driver’s seat and tried to ignite the engine.

“Come on start, you huge hunk of junk.” She yelled at the front of the car, hitting the steering wheel when it wasn’t doing what she asked.

Come on…!” Nykole thought pleading with the car.

A few moments later, the engine of the Ford Mustang roared to life making a strange groaning noise as Nykole pulled the gearshift into reverse. She sped onto the highway, pushing the Ford to its maximum velocity as she measured the possibilities of why she was late for school today. None of the reasons she could come up with in the back of her mind were ever going to be good enough.
Glancing, just barely long enough, into the side view mirror she maneuvered the car into the right lane.

Let’s make this nice and easy,” she thought as she rolled her tongue over her lips, “I don’t need a repeat of what happened last week.

Nykole looked into the mirror again as she turned her right turn signal on and veered onto the exit ramp, almost taking out a guard rail with the side of the vehicle. The light at the end of the ramp flashed a brilliant green color allowing her to make an almost too easy get away.

“If I can just make it there with a few less minutes to spare then maybe…just maybe I can make it before second warning bell rings.” Nykole rambled to the clueless radio host whose annoyingly high-pitched voice was in the process of announcing the next song.

Nykole slammed on the gas pedal, speeding down the way too familiar back roads. These were the roads that she took every year to school. Probably the first ones to be built directly to the school. The roads twisted and swerved making it almost impossible to drive faster than she was permitted. Breaking the rules was her cup of tea and she liked doing it. It made her feel free and in control like a bird soaring in the sky and yet she felt so closed off from the rest of the world, contained, like she was a trapped, caged animal, just waiting to accept the consequences.



“Always late, Mrs. Lansing.” The wrinkly old hag sneered from behind her pedestal like she was thought she was a god.

Nykole rolled her eyes as she snatched the excused absent slip from the long, dangling, grotesque fingers. She jogged down the hallway, skidding to a stop just outside room 204.

Shoulder’s straight, head up. Walk in with a witty smile. Knock em dead girl.” Nykole’s conscience hysterically sang to her as she stepped through the doorway.

She strutted into the room letting each step take its affect. The other teenager’s in the classroom all stared at her. Boys gawking because she was a ticking bombshell, girls sneering because they hated her and wanted to be her, this was her life. The teacher leaned against his desk, eying her suspiciously as she handed him the slip of paper that she was carrying in her right hand.

“Always late, Mrs. Lansing.” He sneered, taking his red velvet pen from his “Greatest Teacher” mug and traced his signature carefully over the line. This was a normal procedure at Black Light High.
The teachers all hated her and wanted nothing more than to expel her from the school. This teacher however thought the kid was going places and couldn’t seem to help the little amount of respect that he held for her.


I know it needs a lot of work but I'm so proud of this project so far.

Right now, my focus is on The Light Chronicles. Then Forbidden Ties (the first book I started) and then I have only The Suicide Letter and The Destroyer left.

Love Britt
<3

P.S. Next week, I will be back with a short story called The Alley.  Then the week after that, I will have another short story called The Place I Called Home. I'm really excited to share these short stories with you all. I've never really written a short story before so I would love to have some input from my readers. Please leave me your thoughts. I'd love to hear from you.

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