Monthly Archives: October 2010

Monster III

Monster III
By: Mia L. Hazlett
10/7/10

With the slightest bump, my head seemed to crash against the steel pillow in the trunk that now jailed me. Nothing I did would release my legs or arms from their bondage. The tape over my mouth was suffocating and I had to remind myself to breath through my nose. I had to shift off my side and the tire they had thrown me on. My broken ribs couldn’t take one more hit.

The car began to slow and I stifled all movement. Then came the laugh, that maniacal laugh. All movement ceased. Car doors slammed. The trunk opened. I was lifted and thrown to the ground. A dog came and sniffed me. He was called away. I was left on the dirt behind the car.

I’m not sure how long I remained on the ground. It was still night so I knew we hadn’t driven far from where I lived. I was thankful that I fell asleep, because that was the only thing that kept the pain away. When I woke, dawn was making its presence. The dog from before slept less than a foot away. I tried to inch my way onto my back. Any sudden movement would reintroduce me to my broken parts.

Before I turned completely over, there was a swift shattering kick to my back. The dog scurried under a truck as I was heaved into the air. My screams didn’t make it beyond my taped mouth, but I couldn’t take the hefty shoulder that was stabbing my fractured ribs. With a deep rooted evil, he made a quick jump up with each step.

The walk took us through the woods to a clearing, which held a shack of some sort. We entered and descended down a stairwell into the same darkness I had experienced at my house. I couldn’t focus beyond my pain, but there was an soft audible crying coming from the pitch blackness that surrounded us.

I was thrown onto a mattress and introduced to a dim light from the corner of the small space. My arms, legs, and mouth were set free. Within seconds the door shut and the locked turned. I protected my pain by staying in my fetal position. There was no where I could go, so I decided not to irritate my wounds.

There wasn’t much I could see from my position, but then there was that crying again. I wanted to answer it with comfort, but I couldn’t withstand another blow of any kind. I was not sure how close or far my captors were. My consciousness refused to remain consistent, so I lost track of time. Minutes, hours, or days could have passed without my knowledge. I just knew movement equalled pain, so I remained in my little ball.

Awoken again, this time to the sound of the lock being undone and the door opening. There was a scuffle of feet. I don’t know if I was dreaming or if my eyes were swollen shut, but now that faint crying was sharing my space.

The cry spoke to me, “Linda? Linda is that you?” Shit! They had her too.

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Filed under fiction, horror, Monster, violence

Conundrum (Part IV)

Conundrum (Part IV)
By: Mia L. Hazlett
10/7/10

I was happy my affair with my husband was over. He had returned to his mother’s house, his biological wife. He sprinkled the children with not enough time or money, but I had to allow his free will to ruin their relationship. There was nothing I could say to make him want to be a better father and at this point the only thing I cared about was being a good mother.

As my stomach took over my body, my outlook on life began to change. I made the decision that I wasn’t going to stress about my current circumstances, but embrace my pregnancy wholeheartedly. Because in all actuality, I handled my two other pregnancies without him. I could do this one too.

The good part about taking your life back, you begin to shed those that aren’t working in your favor. So the first to go was his new chick. It was her hypocrisy of stealing their father and then wanting to coddle them through the pain, that made me sever the matriarchal tyrant. And in the transformation of wife to single pregnant mother, I realized that less him, I still had a family.

It was our card night, our game night, our movie night cuddled up on the couch, that made my house a home, not who lived in it. If that was the case, Go Fish would have ceased, Memory would be forgotten, and we would disperse to our separate corners in his absence. But pairs were still drawn, matches were made, and laughter, tears and popcorn littered our couch. So instead of dwelling on who had left, I had to prepare my home for who was on their way.

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Filed under children, Conundrum, family, fiction, pregnancy