Graveyard of Stories (Part 1)
Graveyard of Stories
(Part 1) series stories
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arivers610
arivers610 Just another hopeless writer
Autoplay OFF   •   2 years ago
I have a file on my computer that as 500 pages of half written stories and ideas I never finished so I'm going post a bit of them, who knows maybe I'll get the inspiration to finish some of them.

Graveyard of Stories (Part 1)

These are not full stories, just parts of stories that I started and never finished. There's quite a few of them so this may be in several parts. Even going through them made me think I should maybe write some more to these but who knows. Enjoy! -ARivers

1.) I’m standing in the only pair of beige pump heels I own, wearing a dress that I’ve only worn twice and talking to people I barely know. My hand is numb from all the squeezing and my shoulder is raw from all the gentle pats. I’m not making eye contact with anyone in the room but they understand.

I mumble my thank you’s and they move on. Except one person, he demands eye contact and for everyone to acknowledge his presence. Hyde Devlin is 6’1 with the ego of a god and the body of someone who eats steroids with his morning cereal. Everything about him says you better respect me but nothing he does is respectful.

“I’m sorry for your loss. Your father was one of the most hard working people I’ve ever met. I don’t know how I’ll ever be able to replace him.” “Don’t you mean how are you going to find someone to work for your that doesn’t mind looking the other way and not getting paid.”

He squeezes my hand to the point where it hurts but I don’t say a word and I don’t look away from him. I want him to look into my eyes so he can see that this little exchange is not the end of it.

3.) “Thanks.” I mumbled. “Yup.” More silence when we got into the car. He clearly didn’t want closure or care enough to ask. I didn’t understand why Tasha needed things to be okay between us.

In a week or two I would be back home in my spacious one bedroom apartment and this visit won’t mean anything to either of us. “Are you okay?” “Yeah, Gram’s China cabinet isn’t but I didn’t know what to do with it anyway.”

“You mean that big one in the living room, with the glass shelves? You tried moving that yourself, are you crazy?” “I prefer the term independent and it wasn’t that heavy once I took out the shelves.” “Clearly it was.” He motioned to my hand. “Well I wasn’t expecting the shelf to brake when I tried to move it.”

“You’re so clumsy. Remember in wood shop when you chopped off part of your nail or in Chem when you burned the corner of the book.” He laughed. I clenched my fists, then winced when I remembered that was a bad idea, “I’m not that girl anymore.” I muttered and looked away from him.

4.) “I’m choosing you…” I stood there in the blinding rain dumbfounded, he’s choosing me what the hell am I a freaking Pokémon! “You’re choosing me, well guess what it’s too late. What even makes you think I still like you!” Oh look at the face this smug bastard is giving me,

“You love me, you always have that doesn’t just go away.” “Turns out it does, seriously what did you think was going to happen? You say three little words and I’m supposed to just forgive everything that has happened.” He shuffled his feet back and forth, then stared up at the sky, “I’m sorry.”

He’s sorry well how many times have I heard that, I can’t even remember because I have lost count. “You knew how I felt and you just left.”

5.) “Mind If I sit down?” I reached for my jacket and placed it over my lap. I shook my head and reached into my pocket. The gun wasn’t loaded but it made me feel better. He sat down and leaned forward. I mimicked him to show I wasn’t afraid even though I was.

“Sorry to bother you, I’ve been driving by myself for two days and I’m not much fun to have a conversation with. I’m Steve by the way.” He reached his hand out. I stared at him. His posture was too upright. His arms, face and hands were tan except for a small sliver of white skin on the upper part of his arm.

He normally wore a shirt or uniform that was longer than the shirt he’s wearing now. “I’m T…Melinda.” I almost slipped. I bit my lip and read his facial expression. He raised his eyebrows and pursed his lips, “Well it’s nice to meet you Melinda, where you heading?”

I shrugged my shoulders, “Not sure.” “Alrighty then, I can appreciate that. Are you traveling alone?” I nodded and clutched the gun. He was asking too many question and he was comfortable with it. He’s questioned someone before. He nodded and smiled, “Not much a talker are you?”

I shook my head. He was a cop which meant I had to get out of there. “I have to use the bathroom.” I got up from the booth and kept my gaze forward. He didn’t follow me and luckily for me their was an exit near the bathrooms.

I fast walked over to my car and looked back at the entrance of the diner. No one was coming out or going in. I let out a breath and got in the car. I was so preoccupied that I didn’t notice the van that was pulling into the lot behind me. I slammed on my brakes and looked up in my mirror. “Sorry!” I yelled and put the car in drive.

I put my foot on the gas and looked out the windshield. I reluctantly put my foot on the brake and stopped myself from running over Steve. “Leaving so soon.” “Move!” He shook his head, “I can’t do that. I’m here to help you.”

He walked up to my window and leaned in. I leaned away and reached for the gun, “I don’t need help.” “You’ve got a drug cartel and police after you, you need my help. I’m not with either of them, you can trust me.”

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