Camp NaNoWriMo, Prompt Fiction

Make Her Suffer

My lips curled into what I hoped passed for a happy, relaxed grin.

I tuned my girlfriends’ incessant chatter out as I sat and stared at the woman on the platform. The woman began to sway her hips and suggestively gyrate to the club’s bass-heavy music. She arched her back thrusting her breasts front and center immediately drawing the attention of nearly every male in the vicinity of her toxic fumes. She swung her long ebony hair over her shoulder and fixed her gaze on a good looking business man seated near the stage. She licked her lips suggestively and gave the man a lascivious wink as she slithered around a greasy pole.

I hated her on sight.

I imagined my hands around her throat, my fingers giving her a necklace of bruises, her breaths becoming short and choppy as her eyes bugged out of her head from lack of oxygen.

My lips curled into a genuine smile at the thought of squeezing every last drop of life from the bitch.

“Girl, it’s so good to finally see you smile,” my friend Chelsea chuckled while giving me a friendly nudge.

I tore my eyes from the Medusa on stage and turned back to my table of friends.

“What are you talking about, I smile all the time.”

“You don’t smile, you grimace. You haven’t been truly happy in a while.”

I sighed and lifted a shoulder into a half shrug. “What is there to be happy about? Jeremy left me.”

“Now listen here,” Nora started, her hand going up as if to shush the rest of the club so she could say her piece.

“Jeremy,” Tara placed a hand on Nora’s shoulder to quell her tirade, “is a confused piece of shit that doesn’t know his head from his ass. You don’t need that drama in your life. You’re better off without him.

I disagreed. He was the best thing that ever happened to me. “Sure, okay,” I acquiesced with a toss of my head.

“He’s doing his passive denial thing again,” Nora said with a flick of her wrist. “Listen sweetie, he may have been your first lover but he won’t be your last. You have to learn from your mistakes so that you can recognize the real deal when it slaps you in your face.”

“I loved him, Nora.”

She released a heavy sigh and placed her arm around my shoulders giving a small squeeze. “I know you did, love.” She briefly placed her soft lips to my cheek before jerking back. “Girl, did you even shave tonight?” She leaned back and rubbed a hand over her lips.

I chuckled despite my dark mood. “Of course, two hours ago. I’m telling you, I’m Sasquatch incarnate. I fucking hate facial hair!”

“You could always look into laser hair removal,” Tara mumbled behind her glass. She had lifted as if to take a drink but her eyes were focused on something across the room.

“Yeah, I could, but I hear it’s expensive,” I murmured, distracted by Tara’s suddenly pale face. I arched a brow at her to silently ask, “what is going on.” Tara quickly shook her head and took a large swallow of her drink.

Nora surreptitiously glanced over her shoulder to try and see what Tara was looking at and then just as quickly whipped it back around to face our group. “You know what, this place is a dump. Let’s go somewhere else.” She downed the rest of her drink and made to get out of the booth.

Chelsea shook her head at me as if to say, “I have no idea why these two are acting so weird” look.

But I knew. I knew without even turning around what was happening behind me. I could feel the small, but strong electric tingle worm it’s way up my spine and my groin tightened. This was always the reaction I had whenever Jeremy was close by.

“He’s here, isn’t he.”

“Yes baby, he is,” Tara said while reaching across the table to grab my hands and squeeze them.

I looked at Nora. “He’s not supposed to be here, He’s supposed to be on his way to Chicago tonight.”

She nodded. “Something must have changed.”

Nora and I stared at each other, a silent moment in time to give our brains a moment to adapt to the change in plans.

I knew Jeremy’s schedule intimately. I knew where he was at all times. I knew this because he is a creature of habit, he likes to stick to a schedule because it gives him control over his life and helps control his chaotic confusion.

His confusion being me.

I didn’t dare turn around, I knew he was there. I could sense him near. I could even pick out his throaty chuckle underneath the obnoxious music blaring from all corners of the club. What had changed? Why had he postponed his flight? He had been talking about this important meeting, ad nauseam, in Chicago for months. I knew how important it was to him, I knew how important it could have been for both of us.

A catcall from the audience caught my attention and my eyes darted to the girl on stage.

Her. His change of plans had to be because of HER. I narrowed my eyes at the harlot and ground my teeth together to prevent myself from saying anything that might incriminate me later.

“Oh shit,” Chelsea said and subconsciously slouched down in her seat. “I think he saw us.”

All three of heads turned in his direction. I looked at each of my friends’ faces and taking a breath, turned around in my seat.

Our eyes locked across the room. Jeremy was the first to look away. He turned to address one of his friends who slapped him across the back and pointed to the stage. Jeremy smiled and nudged his friend in the ribs. I released a breath not even realizing I had been holding my breath.

So that’s how he wanted to play it.

“What an asshole,” Tara hissed. “He didn’t even acknowledge you.”

I shrugged, swallowing the bitter feeling that had formed in the back of my throat. “I’m not surprised.”

“What do you mean, you’re not surprised? You guys dated for nearly three months!” Chelsea shouted to compete with the music.

“Shut up, Chelsea, you don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Chelsea started at Nora for a long moment, realization dawning as she turned to look at me. “No one knows you dated for three months”

Tara gasped. “Are you serious? How does Jeremy’s friends know he’s not gay?”

“Because he never told them,” I snapped. “He was trying to figure things out. He wanted to keep it quiet until he sorted it out in his head. No one in Jeremy’s world knew we dated.”

All eyes searched out Jeremy’s posse of friends again as they took a table near the stage. The witch performing paused a moment in her routine to blow a kiss at Jeremy. He caught the pretend kiss and placed it in his pocket. His friends whooped and hollered in appreciation.

“Gross,” I muttered.

“Oh my God,” Tara gasped again, “I’m so sorry, Kyle. We had no idea. No wonder you’ve been so tense lately.”

Jeremy’s chair was positioned so that he was facing our table. Our eyes locked again. I gave him a small salute of acknowledgment.

Jeremy got up from his chair and asked a friend of his to switch seats so his back would be to us. His friend looked toward our table as he took his seat, learned forward to say something to the rest of his table which prompted loud laughter all around.

“His friend knows,” Nora said quietly.

“Yeah, it looks like it. That’s Brian, Jeremy’s bestie. I never met him but Jeremy talked about him. They grew up together and are now working to partner on their new project.”

“I can’t believe he did that to you, Ky,” Tara said.

I sighed and ran a hand through my hair. “It is what it is. I can’t make someone love me. He has to sort it out with himself before he can give himself to someone else. I’m just not that someone else, I suppose.”

“What do you want to do?” Nora said quietly. She was studying me closely and I knew what she really wanted to ask me was, “do you still want to do this?”

I lifted my dirty martini to my lips and watched the witch on stage flirt with Jeremy. She was ignoring the businessman she had flirted with earlier and I could see the man was getting irate at her lack of attention. With a huff, the man stood up, nearly knocking his chair over in the process, threw down some bills and stomped out of the club. Jeremy’s friends noticed and started laughing again.

I gave that man the best three months of my life. I know that sounds melodramatic but it’s absolutely true. I had never felt more comfortable with someone in my life and it was the first time I felt like I could truly be myself. I had never felt more complete and secure and to have that ripped out of my hands was devastating. But I didn’t blame Jeremy, how could I? I loved him. I know how hard it is to come to terms with one’s sexuality and I couldn’t blame him for trying something new and different, it just wasn’t a good fit.

But HER. I shifted again to give my full attention to the whore on stage. She I could blame.

She didn’t come out of nowhere. She-who-shall-not-be-named dated Jeremy in college but things got rough when Jeremy met me. They eventually broke it off. But she never knew why they broke it off, only that he needed some space and to focus on his career.

The bitch didn’t know about me.

Jeremy agonized over their relationship. He felt so conflicted. He knew she was supposed to be part of his plan, according to his family’s expectations, but he just didn’t feel anything for her. She was manipulating and sometimes cruel in some of the things she text him and how she treated him. But he got used to her.

She was safe.

No one, outside of Jeremy, his close friends and me, of course, knew about the bitch’s side job. She wasn’t very bright and when Jeremy broke up with her, no longer supported her, she needed to make money to keep up appearances that she was an excellent catch so she turned to stripping to maintain her “lifestyle”.  I knew Jeremy’s father would be livid with the bitch’s life choice and would pressure Jeremy to marry her to get her off the streets. The fact that Jeremy hadn’t taken that “easy” route spoke volumes.

I could see what was happening now. Jeremy’s father must have been pressuring him to get back with the bitch. He needed a wife to complete the corporate picture, to help him with his all-important career. And he caved. Jeremy was weak.

But I still loved him. I knew, in that moment, that Jeremy and I didn’t have a future together, it was never going to happen. Jeremy’s world would not permit it. But perhaps I could help him find happiness in other ways.

The bitch’s raunchy routine was over and with one last kiss and a kick of her leg, she waved and left the stage.

I shifted my gaze back to Nora. I tightened my jaw and never felt more determined than I did in that moment.

“You know what? I have an early morning tomorrow. I’m going to call it a night.”

That was the cue.

Nora stood up and smoothed her skirt. “Yeah, me too. I’m going to run to the bathroom, I’ll see you guys later.”

“I’ll go with you,” Tara said while slinging her purse over her shoulder.

“No,” Nora said. “Why don’t you and Chelsea go to the bar and pay our tab? We’re treating Jeremy tonight. Besides, he’s been drinking and I don’t want him driving. Why not just take him to my place? he can crash there. He has a key.”

Tara and Chelsea gave me pitying looks and nodded. “Of course.”

As they walked off, I turned to Nora. “If I was straight, I would marry you,”

She smiled and patted my cheek. “And I would accept.” She patted her purse. “Now go. You can’t be anywhere near here when it goes down.”

I leaned forward and gave her an affectionate kiss on the cheek. I whispered in her ear, “Please make her suffer.”

Nora winked. “Oh sugar, it will be my pleasure. I’ll meet you back at my place later and show you the video.”

Post Seven
Prompt Fiction

They Should Call It, “The Day Shoppers Turn into Animals” Friday

Would you like fries with that?”

Her friend mumbled a response.

“Seriously. If you don’t stop and chew that burger, you’re going to choke. Then I’ll have to do the Heimlich maneuver, we’ll attract attention …” she shrugged, allowing her words to trail off. Why even bother?

Her friend visibly swallowed the chunk of food and took a healthy swig of soda. “Tick! Tock! We have to take advantage of the deals!!”

Peggy snapped. “Yes! We must save two bucks!” She snorted and watched the swarm of people roughly pushing each other outside the café window. One lone child was silently wailing.

“Happy holidays,” she grumbled.

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Write up to 100 words, fact or fiction….

This is a themed writing meme hosted by Jenny Matlock. The goal is to write something that does not exceed 100 words (not including said prompt). The prompt is in italics.

Prompt Fiction

Just Looking

“He’s handsome, isn’t he?”

She jumped at the voice. She hadn’t realized someone had entered the room. She jerked her gaze from the group of players outside to look over her shoulder.

“I’m sorry?”

The woman’s face broke into a sly grin. “The coach. He’s hot, don’t you think?”

Yes,” she thought. “He’s all right,” she said out loud.

“I hear he’s single. Are you looking?”

Yes,” she thought. “Of course not,” she said out loud.

“I tell ya, if I wasn’t married…” the woman sighed and smiled.

She nodded politely and turned back to the window.

She was indeed looking.

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Listen to the audio version.

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Write up to 100 words, fact or fiction….

This is a themed writing meme hosted by Jenny Matlock. The goal is to write something that does not exceed 100 words (not including said prompt). The prompt was writing from the “you are here” perspective in the picture.

Prompt Fiction, Saturday Stuff

An Overgrown Garden

Carmen tried not to look guilty. “I planted a little story seed …” she held up two fingers, very close together, to illustrate her point.

“You mean you lied,” I shot back.

“I didn’t lie, per se,” she swallowed, “I just didn’t tell him the whole truth.”

“You’re an idiot. What do you think lying is??”

“Oh, shut up.”

“That’s like saying, ‘you’re a little pregnant.’ Either you are, or you aren’t. Either you’re honest or you’re not.”

“I like story seed – it sounds better.”

“Seed my foot. You have a full-blown garden.”

“Pass the hoe,” she giggled.

“You need a backhoe,” I snorted.

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Listen to the audio version.

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Write up to 100 words, fact or fiction….

This is a themed writing meme hosted by Jenny Matlock. The goal is to write something that does not exceed 100 words (not including said prompt). The prompt is in bold.

Prompt Fiction, Saturday Stuff

Desperate Measures

“What do you think of this beauty?” Lorna held the flimsy, red teddy up to her body and modeled it in front of the mirror.

“I think that sharing everything with your best friend is overrated. I’m drawing the line at lingerie.”

Lorna laughed.

“And,” her friend continued, “you better buy some spray-on tan cause you’re going to glow in the dark with that number.”

“I’m desperate! I’m losing Max’s attention and I need to do something drastic.”

“What do you mean, ‘losing his attention?’”

“He only has eyes for one thing,” Lorna replied with a grimace.

“What’s her name?”

Friday night football.”

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Write up to 100 words, fact or fiction….

This is a themed writing meme hosted by Jenny Matlock. The goal is to write something that does not exceed 100 words (not including said prompt). The prompt is in italics.

Prompt Fiction, Saturday Stuff

Such a Killjoy

“We are so busted.’

“We’re not gonna get caught. Unless you give us away with your ‘Guilty as charged’ look. Think about clouds – anything. Wipe that expression off your face.”

“I can’t help it. I’ve never used a fake ID and snuck into a bar before.’

“Shh! Why don’t you broadcast that a little louder? I don’t think the cops heard you.”

“This is so lame. I can’t believe you talked me into this.”

“I can’t believe I brought you. Do you ever loosen up?”

“I’m a fun person. I just get a little uptight when my BFF makes me do something wacked.”

“Oh my God, that guy is so hot.”

“FOCUS”

“I’m focu– oh my God, did you see that girl’s shoes?”

“My parents are not gonna let me out of their sight after tonight.”

“Relax! Sheesh. Such a killjoy.”

Are you seriously ordering another martini?? We are so dead.”

“You have money, right?”

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Write up to 150 words, fact or fiction….

This is a themed writing meme hosted by Jenny Matlock. The goal is to write something that does not exceed 150 words (not including said prompt). The prompt is in italics.

Prompt Fiction

Writing What You (Don’t) Know

Mary thought he looked a little like Tom Selleck, only with blonde hair. She pressed her face a little closer to the knothole in the fence to spy on him.

She thought he had a great chest – all hairy and hard.

Mary thought it would be nice to run her fingers through all of that hair.

She thought …

Laura stopped typing. “Mary, you think too much,” she mumbled taking a moment to proofread her work.

“This is the worse romance story EVER,” she snarled while pounding on the delete key.

She placed her head in her hands and cried.

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Write up to 100 words, fact or fiction….

This is a themed writing meme hosted by The Head’s Office. The goal is to write something that does not exceed 100 words. The prompt this week is in bold.

Monday Stuff, Prompt Fiction

Craving Freedom

Freedom threw her favorite sweater into her suitcase at the last minute. She hurriedly closed the lid, but was careful not to make a sound. She was sitting on top, trying to make it close that last half inch when the alarm went off.

“CRAP!” she hissed. She had totally forgotten about the automatic setting on her alarm clock. Sweat dotted her upper lip as she frantically worked to close the case.

“Freedom! Time to get up!” her mother yelled from down the hallway.

She sighed with relief as it finally clicked. Grabbing the case, she ran toward the window.

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Write up to 100 words, fact or fiction….

This is a themed writing meme hosted by The Head’s Office. The goal is to write something that does not exceed 100 words. The prompt this week is in italic.

Prompt Fiction

Fiction: A Bump in the Road

“This is the first bad thing I’ve ever done in my life,” Blanche giggled as she looked at the other three women with her in the van. “I swear, any time I do anything bad, even just a little naughty, I get caught. Never fails.”

“When have you ever done anything bad? You’re like … perfect,” Cecile muttered from the passenger seat while squinting to read her iPhone in the dark interior.

“Perfect?” Blanche sputtered in surprise. “Hardly. Would a perfect woman lose her husband to a co-ed? I don’t think so.” She could feel her good mood deflating as an image of her husband having sex with the perky redhead from his sociology class popped into her head. Her shoulders hunched forward in defeat and without being aware of it, she slumped over the steering wheel as if trying to ward off any more disturbing thoughts. Her knuckles whitened as her grip tightened. Bastard.

“Hey now,” Erin said from the back of the van. She leaned forward to place a comforting hand on Blanche’s shoulder. “Remember our agreement? No talking about the ‘jerk who shall not be named.’” She turned slightly to give Cecil a warning look.

Cecile shrugged and issued a huge yawn. “I can’t believe you guys talked me into this. It’s,” she squinted at her phone again, “almost three in the morning. I have to get up in like, three hours!”

“Then don’t go to bed,” Erin said and sat back in her seat. “Just because you’re almost 40 years old doesn’t mean you have to act like it.”

Whitney snorted in amusement next to Erin.

“All right, ladies,” Blanche warned. She reached up to rub her forehead. She shouldn’t have had that fifth (or was it sixth? She honestly lost count) apple martini. She didn’t usually drink at all, but her girlfriends had talked her into going out and once out, it felt so good to dunk her depression into a pretty glass of liquor, at least for a little while. She could feel just a hint of that depression inching back into her mood, its icy fingers leaving cold streaks against her heat-infused cheeks. “There’s no need to pick on Cecile. At least one of us is acting our age tonight.”

Cecile sighed and ran a hand through her short, spiky hair. “I’m sorry. I had a tough week and there’s this new hotshot that thinks he can do my job better than me,” she balled her hands into fists and her entire body tensed.

Blanche shrugged and softened her voice to try and diffuse her friend. Cecile had a terrible temper and she didn’t feel like talking her off the edge at the moment. “Forget it, Cecile. We all have our problems. You girls were nice enough to help me with mine, I’ll return the favor this weekend. In the meantime …” her voice ground to a stop as the van suddenly jostled, swayed and jerked. All four women were rendered speechless for long seconds.

“What the … did I just run over something?” Blanche asked. “There wouldn’t be a speed bump on this stretch of road, would there?” She slowed down and glanced in her side mirror to try and see what she might have hit, but it was too dark to see anything.

“That didn’t feel like a speed bump to me,” Whitney said, her body twisted around so she could see out of the back windows. “I think it was an animal.”

Blanche pulled over to the side of the road and all three women looked at Erin.

Erin was staring out of the side window. “Maybe it was just a log or something,” she said in a very small voice.

“Should I turn around?” Blanche asked.

All of the women were silent as they mulled it over.

Cecile thought: “Great. This is going to take forever and I really need to get some sleep so I can make that jerk look like an idiot to my boss tomorrow.”

Erin thought: “Please, PLEASE don’t be an animal. I can’t handle that right now.”

Whitney thought: “Wouldn’t it be cool if it were a dead body?” She smiled at her thoughts and was thankful no one could see her expression.

Blanche thought: “I’m going to puke and everyone is going to watch. Swell.”

“We better make sure it’s not an animal or anything,” Erin said. “I couldn’t live with myself if we left an injured animal on the side of the road.”

“Right,” Blanche said, swallowing a dollop of bile back down her throat. “Let’s check it out.” She carefully maneuvered the car into a U-turn and slowly made her way back to the spot. She flipped her brights on to help them see. “I hate these country roads,” she mumbled.

“You were the one who wanted to stay off the main roads,” Cecile said.

“Well yeah,” Blanche snapped back. “I don’t want to get a DUI, thank you very much.”

“There!” Erin said while leaning forward and pointing to a dark shape in the road. “That must be what we ran over.”

Blanche’s foot eased off the accelerator and the van inched forward. The shape began to slowly materialize before their eyes as the headlights exposed it.

“Oh my God,” Cecile gasped. “Is that a …” she clapped a hand over her mouth in horror and Whitney finished her sentence for her.

“… a body?!”

Blanche’s foot jumped to the brake and the van jolted to a halt causing all three women to jerk forward in their seats. The vehicle was now only a few feet away from the object in the road. The bright headlights illuminated the shadowy object and all four women sat transfixed as they stared at a tuft of reddish-blonde hair caressing one thin, bare shoulder.

It was definitely a body.


The three words to use in a story this week are:

  • Bump
  • Knuckle
  • Transfix

Thanks for reading.

Prompt Fiction

The Perfect Couple

The three words to use in a story this week are:

  • Grace
  • Jitter
  • Thin

Thanks for reading.


Most people would be embarrassed to go to Disney World with their parents, but not me.

I had snorted a line of coke before my parents had picked me up. I felt invincible. I felt happy and confident. And I definitely felt like I could handle my parents and their sick, happy lives.

“Grace, you look so thin, are you eating enough?” my mother gently pushed a tendril of hair behind my ear as we waited for my dad to park the car.

I smiled. “Yes, mom. I’m definitely eating enough.”

“Well, I hope you’re ready to eat today because they have all kinds of scrumptious foods to eat here.”

I squelched a chuckle – only my mother would say the word “scrumptious.”

My slightly overweight dad came jogging toward us. I squelched another chuckle as I watched his belly quiver and roll against his waistband. “Looks like dad put on a little weight,” I said, my affection softening the blow.

“Oh poo,” my mother waved her hand and smiled at my father. “He’s like a big roll of squeezable Charmin.”

I couldn’t help it, I laughed.

“All right, ladies,” my dad huffed as he joined us. “Ready to get this party started?”

“Of course!” my mom chimed up.

All I could manage was a smile. I was feeling jittery and I noticed my hands were shaking. I always got the shakes after I did drugs. But I wasn’t worried, it usually only lasted a few hours. I figured I could distract them once we got into the park –they’d never notice a thing, they were too wrapped up on being perfect.

I smirked at my thoughts.

They clasped hands and led the way to the gate. I rolled my eyes behind them. I loved my parents, don’t get me wrong, but their public affection for one another always sickened me.

For I knew what they were really like behind closed doors.

“Honey, are you coming?” my mother asked over her shoulder as she dug in her purse for the passes.

“Right behind you,” I murmured. I began running possible scenarios through my mind on how I could get rid of my parents in the Happiest Place on Earth.

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Inspired by this Post Secret.