Her First High Heeled Adventure

She paced up and down the marble tiles; Ms Desai below was praying that she would soon make up her mind so she could finally get some sleep. Sam looked at her watch again 21:30; he was going to show in 10 minutes she had to make up her mind. She stood for the umpteenth time in front the mirror the dress looked perfect. It didn’t show too much so her mom wouldn’t ask a million questions and it didn’t cover that much to make him guess that she picked up a form to join ‘The Celibacy Sisters’. Yet she continued to stare her eyes fixated on the pair of heels in the back near the foot of her bed.

It had been a week. She was sitting alone with a can of Red Bull and her copy of ‘Julia and Juliet’. The sanctuary of her room was barely ever breached but that Monday her mom came rushing in almost like the neighbor from across the road saw her with her another guy. She yanked her hand pulled her up out of the bed one look at what she was wearing made her realize that it was sufficient and continued to drag her out through the living room and to the car below. It was here that she explained there was barely a week yet and knowing her daughter she was aware she was in no rush to but those first pair of heels. Sam was well aware that this was inevitable so was very subtle in her protest. Three hours seven shops and countless open boxes later they found a black pair of heels that seemed to suit which ever dress she would finally decide to wear. That week like many others Sam barely left her room, but this time she drew the curtains and double bolted the door. No this wasn’t her attempt to finally take a quick glimpse those racy websites that she heard her seniors talk about; why in her eyes it was far worst. You see for that entire week Sam used to try on those heels.

Now a week in heels can’t do any good to your feet and the blisters the size of small rocks was evidence of it. But right now all this didn’t bother Sam she had to make a decision. Was she going to go with a pair of flats that never really did anything for her dress? Was she going to risk wearing those heels and cross her fingers and hope she never took a tumble. Just then she remembered a picture she had kept from when she was little it was when her mum left alone one November afternoon. Thoroughly bored she found a pair of her mums’ heels and walked around for an entire hour completely oblivious to the amount of tumbles she took.

Suddenly it all became very clear she slipped into the heels and left the house to begin her first high heeled adventure.

-- written by Sean D'Mello

His Lucky T-Shirt

BANG BANG.

He woke startled. Stupid cats he knew better than to keep the plate so close to the edge of the sink, Ryan was always a light sleeper. And this sort of noise was enough to wake him from his near perfect dream. As he looked at the small alarm on the side of the table the fluorescent light blinked 6:55 PM. So the cat robbed him of just five minutes of his sleep, he could forgive the poor feline. Today was a big day for Ryan and it all started the very same morning when he got a message from Sarah asking him to meet her at their favorite spot at 8 that very evening. Sarah was Ryan’s ex, though Ryan would hate using that word when people asked what happened, it almost made him believe things were over between them. He stopped to look in the mirror as he was leaving the room he should shave; it had been a while since he last did. He grabbed his blade on the way into the shower. He stood under the hot shower for about five minutes. As he was standing he began thinking about the past month. Since their break up things hadn’t been the same. He had stopped going to college her sight itself troubled him; she had gotten into his mind. Her smile, infectious laughter and her stupid jokes. It all ended a week back, he had forgotten one of their dates and just has it happens the rain gods decided to look down on their city that very day. She was wet angry and annoyed. It wasn’t until later that evening that he realized his mistake.

The phone call that followed was filled with a lot of shouting and arguing and before he knew it, Ryan found himself clutching straws but it was too late. It was all over. Ryan was now out of the shower he was glad he decided to shave. He put on his lucky t-shirt, he remembered how much she liked the t-shirt the first time he wore it. Ryan now caught a rick and soon reached ‘The Spot’. He looked at his watch it was 7: 55 he was five minutes early. He sat down looking at the water, he remembered the first time he came here how beautiful the moon looked shinning on the river. Soon an hour passed. Ryan was now sweating, he was thankful after last night showers that the rain wasn’t falling tonight. Another hour passed and now Ryan was getting restless. Just then he got a text it was from Sarah.

“Two hours Ryan. Two hours I waited for you that night. I wanted to see if you would do the same. I was counting on the rain greeting you as well. Anyway I’m glad you waited Ryan. Go home now it’s late now. We’ll talk tomorrow. Don’t worry I promise you’ll be smiling. And oh Ryan, NICE TSHIRT.

-- written by Sean D'Mello

Fog - Part Two

(Part One)

I felt the backend of my car want to whip me around in a harsh 180. My knee-jerk reaction of slamming on the brakes had caused them to lock up, rendering them essentially useless. My tires screamed, the sound slicing through the still night air. I could taste bitter adrenaline in my mouth.

With both of my hands death gripped on the steering wheel, I had no way to pull the emergency brake in a last ditch effort to avoid hitting the man standing in the road ahead of me. I don’t even know if the thought even crossed my mind. My mind repeated the same question. Why isn’t he moving out of the way?

There was less than a dozen feet between us now, and I was still hurtling towards him at twenty miles per hour. I pulled one hand from the wheel to hammer the horn. It blared loudly. I had a moment of clarity and let off the brakes. My car bucked unsteadily, the brakes unlocking. I slammed down on them again. The nose dipped down towards the pavement, and to keep from hitting my head against the wheel I locked my elbows.

In the last second before I hit him, I took one last look at the speedometer. Fifteen MPH. I looked forward again. There he stood, his face passive. I braced myself for impact.

The front of my car cut neatly through him, but there was no gore, no blood. The instant we collided the man shifted into some kind of visible air. I don’t want to call him a ghost, but I suppose that’s what he was. He slid neatly through the windshield as if there was nothing there to separate us, and his eyes locked with mine.

There was something in the way he looked at me that nearly drove me mad. He seemed to look into me, through me, like he was looking for something. Something he wanted to take before he stole off into the night. His mouth gaped, baring sharp looking teeth. He raised one translucent arm towards me, and I worked my throat in an attempt to scream. There was no air in my lungs, and there was no way to escape his grasp.

Just before his hand latched onto my arm, I blinked. The apparition flickered, like bad reception on a TV set. I blinked again. He leaned his head back in a scream. Then he was gone.

I don’t remember coming to a full stop, but I know I did. I don’t remember being thrown against my seatbelt hard enough to leave a diagonal bruise across my chest. I remember sitting in my car for minutes afterwards, trembling, crooked in the road with twin streaks of rubber trailing my tires like balloon strings.

What I remember the most is the way the ghost looked at me. His eyes burn like embers in my mind, and some nights, when fog blankets the road, I can hear him scream.

-- written by Badass Geek