Let's write a book.

[Guest [la...]]

This made Roxie quite anxious. After all, she'd traveled to escape from this place of fear and dread and torment. She sat on the bed next to Rita, fiddling with her blouse, her head bowed low, unable to make eye contact, hoping that no one would notice the fear in her eyes. Lars was too preoccupied with his new records to notice. He was still babbling on about his love for jazz as Roxie became more and more uncomfortable. She was now nearly trembling at the thought of returning to that place. Her voice crackled as she managed to mumble...

 

(Sorry, bad morning...too much brain fog...hope someone can take it from here)

 

[[Ka...]]

Thanks lamberfn  That was great. 

[[...]]

Thanks lamberfn  That was great.  

 

I second that.    lamberfn, I love it.......you are a marvelous writer.  

 

 

 

 

 

[[ho...]]

"I just remembered, the foster parents are going on a retreat. Im afraid they wont be at the house when we get there. They are members of a group of Reiki teachers and go away every year for a few days. Its at a nun's mission in Stone Harbor NJ at Villa Maria By The Sea. "  "Well"  says Rita I guess our only option is to........

 

Hows that for a fly in the ointment?  Honeym 

[[...]]

........"go ahead with our plans, we only have a little more then a week to find out something. Roxie, do you still have a key to the kershaw's house"?, Rita asked, hoping it was so. " yes I do," Roxie answered in a quiet, nervous voice. " Are you ok with us looking around the house and property with them gone"? " I don't know what to think anymore. I'm really confused and worried, bad memories of that creepy Dennis linger in my mind like a ghost, stuck in a haunted house. But I know that Dennis has to be locked up forever". Roxie became more self-assured and defiant as she pondered the thought of Dennis being brought to justice, and being made to pay for his crimes.....With a renewed spirit, that was soaring higher than an Eagle looking for its prey, Roxie, making strong eye contact with Rita and Lars, shouted... "Let's get that creepy, evil-eyed, devil worshipping monster".......  

 

 

 

 

To all who contributed up to this point, a big Thank You.........Travus, I hope you are doing ok.

[[mi...]]

Great idea! I have another plan I am going to do. In the small city I live in, they put stories in the newspaper. When I am completely off these benzo's I intend to contact the newspaper and bring my story forward. I am going to go into detail about my experience with detox and how detox does not work on benzodiazapines. I want to get my point across to the detox centers so that they will start studying benzo's and understanding what we victims go through. They need to have a center specifically for benzo patients to come to as outpatients and attend support groups as we taper slowly.

[[...]]

Great idea! I have another plan I am going to do. In the small city I live in, they put stories in the newspaper. When I am completely off these benzo's I intend to contact the newspaper and bring my story forward. I am going to go into detail about my experience with detox and how detox does not work on benzodiazapines. I want to get my point across to the detox centers so that they will start studying benzo's and understanding what we victims go through. They need to have a center specifically for benzo patients to come to as outpatients and attend support groups as we taper slowly.

 

Good luck, miss kim

 

To have an informed public is definitely a good idea.

[[tr...]]

The Kershaw's house sits upon the prominence...it's shell resembled a death skull from afar. Trees creaked, as the small wind sighed and shifted through their branches and leaves. The grass was nothing but dried out straw. Dandelions and weeds overtook this sordid realm. The three stood looking about...keeping an eye out for any sign of life. They walked cautiously up the broken cobble stone...Lars tripping on a protruding stone. The other two react...as nervousness sets in, and shadows play tricks on their eyes. Everywhere there is a shade...shifting and transforming as they dance through the old woodland. The windows are darkened...glass smudged from the dust that settled and the rain that fell...look like tears streaking through the mud. The wooden planks were faded and rotted in some spots...in others; they had fallen off completely. Roxie began to shiver as old memories began to surface. She stared at Rita and the Norwegian, "I'm afraid right now...I really want to leave". Lars bends down to massage his ankles, "It's to late now...we really have no choice but to push forward. If what you told us is true about Dennis...he has to be stopped." Rita takes hold of Roxies shoulders, looking into her green eyes, "The only way you're ever going to stop the nightmares...is to face the monster. What he did...it is unconscionable that any living being suffer through that." Roxie's eyes begin to glimmer...tears stream down, "He is a monster...Dennis is a ravaging beast. You have to understand, he isn't human at all. I heard him say this to his victim...I am a Strigoi...the troubled soul of the dead...rising from the grave to feed on you all." The silence is deafening!!!

[[ar...]]

"Rubbish" said Lars who belonged to the local chapter of the skeptics society, and had no truck with superstition. Roxie still looked fearful, as Lars bravely stepped forward, & banged on the door. A figure with bright red hair appeared dimly through the dusty glass. A rifle was heard loading & a voice growled " what do ya want, clear out NOW."

Rita and Roxie dove behind an old tractor near a shed. Rita had a hand gun which she loaded. "We're looking for Mr & Mrs Kershaw, we have a message for them."

"They're not here said the voice, now clear out before I call the police", this is private property, didn't ya see the sign on the gate-  no trespassers. "

 

Lars had to think quickly, but this brazen approach might be best rethought.

[[...]]

"We're from the Sheriff's Office in Le Deaux County", shouted Lars, desperately hoping that the ploy would work. "show me your badge, and be quick about it", answered the red headed man, standing in the half-lit doorway. Appearing somewhat calmer than he was a few minutes ago, he watched intently as Rita walked towards the open door, her badge in hand, and her gun, held secretly behind her back. "Whats this?, your badge says N.O.P.D on it, you're not a sheriff". "I'm on an under-cover mission, Rita calmly replied, the two with me are deputies from Le Deaux County, we're all dressed as civilians so we blend in, we came to talk about Dennis."

 

Upon hearing the mention of Dennis, he sheepishly put the rifle down and invited everyone to come into the dank, musty smelling house. "My name is Henry, Henry Desrosier. I didn't mean to scare you, but I thought you might be some of the weirdos that Dennis hangs out with. "I fought the Commies in Korea, ya know, but he scares me a helluva alot more than they ever did. He's nuttier than a Christmas fruit cake".

 

Flo looked up just in time to see a strange looking man walk in the door of the, 'We Never Close Diner'. Catching a glimpse of Dennis, Crazy Cat, her hair standing on end, arched her back, hissed, and scurried behind the counter and hid behind a large box, with the words, Biloxie baked beans printed on the side of it. "That's him, that's Dennis", Flo mouthed to herself, "he's looks meaner and more scary than Roxie described him". " What can I do for ya", she politely asked the person she knew to be Dennis.

 

"Has a pritty girl, about eighteen, with long hair and nice green eyes been in here", he asked, his evil looking eyes,  focused like a laser on Flo. "Only old people and drunks ever come in this place. A girl like you talks about, never come in here, only old folks and drunks, she repeated, no pretty girls, just old folks and drunks, that's all I get. old folks and drunks". "I don't give hoot in hell about your damn old folks and drunks! I'm looking for my daughter, her name is Roxanne, growled Dennis, "her ma and me want her back home, she run away from the nice home we give her". " You lyin' sack of donkey dung", Flo whispered to herself as she struggled to remain calm. Her jaw, clenched in a vise like tightness, she reached for the baseball bat hidden behind the counter.

 

"Is there a YWCA around here"?, Dennis asked, in sadistic and angry voice. "I'm waiting, I don't have all day, answer me, you old battle axe".  "Maybe I'll find her there, or another pritty girl", he laughed, displaying a row of rotting teeth that would make a maggot roll over and drop dead. He waited for an answer. "Three blocks down, one block over", came Flo's reply. "If you lied to me, I'll be back and break your scrawny neck", he hollered as he stormed out the door. "I'm Glad they keep the doors locked at the YWCA. He's spookier than Rita realizes",  she thought to herself as she looked around for Crazy cat.

 

 

"Now, where in the hell is that cell phone number Rita gave me?, Flo mumbled to herself, "she wanted me to call her if 'evil eyes' showed up. Oh ya, I remember, it's in the till. Come out, Crazy Cat, the devil's helper is gone". Flo clumsily managed to put some coins into the slots of the almost worn out, greasy, dirty, old fifties style pay phone. She dialed the number Rita gave her, and tapping her tired feet, waited for Rita to answer......

[Guest [Si...]]

The Kershaw's house sits upon the prominence...it's shell resembled a death skull from afar. Trees creaked, as the small wind sighed and shifted through their branches and leaves. The grass was nothing but dried out straw. Dandelions and weeds overtook this sordid realm. The three stood looking about...keeping an eye out for any sign of life. They walked cautiously up the broken cobble stone...Lars tripping on a protruding stone. The other two react...as nervousness sets in, and shadows play tricks on their eyes. Everywhere there is a shade...shifting and transforming as they dance through the old woodland. The windows are darkened...glass smudged from the dust that settled and the rain that fell...look like tears streaking through the mud. The wooden planks were faded and rotted in some spots...in others; they had fallen off completely. Roxie began to shiver as old memories began to surface. She stared at Rita and the Norwegian, "I'm afraid right now...I really want to leave". Lars bends down to massage his ankles, "It's to late now...we really have no choice but to push forward. If what you told us is true about Dennis...he has to be stopped." Rita takes hold of Roxies shoulders, looking into her green eyes, "The only way you're ever going to stop the nightmares...is to face the monster. What he did...it is unconscionable that any living being suffer through that." Roxie's eyes begin to glimmer...tears stream down, "He is a monster...Dennis is a ravaging beast. You have to understand, he isn't human at all. I heard him say this to his victim...I am a Strigoi...the troubled soul of the dead...rising from the grave to feed on you all." The silence is deafening!!!

 

Travuz, you write very well.

 

The Kershaw's house sits upon the prominence...it's shell resembled a death skull from afar. Trees creaked, as the small wind sighed and shifted through their branches and leaves.

 

That's pretty good!

[[tr...]]

Henry Desrosier limps around the small room frantically. His face is wrinkled and scarred, which is a testament to the hard life he has led. His arms are plastered with tattoos...that are harldy visible beneath his wrinkly, tanned, aged skin. He falls with a thump, onto the weathered chesterfield, "So yer lookin' for the devil's li'l boy. Dennis ain't someone ya want on yer bad side". Lars pulls out a handkerchief from his pocket vest, dustes off the old wooden bench...before he sits down. "Why do you refer to him as the "devil's boy"...I mean I've also heard that people refer to him as Strigoi", asks Lars, without actually looking at Henry...instead he studies the old pictures above the mantle, of the beat up fireplace. "Hah...that sonofab*tch...used ta call himself Alucard...which is Dracula spelled backwards y'know. Town folk say that his momma's momma was a witch, y'know. Thought his little bugger was a gift from the devil. He's a dangerous b@st@rd. Seen him bite a pigeons head clean off...sucked out every drop of blood from that little critter", Henry coughs up a laugh as his guest all grimace. "Heard that he did the same to a living body to", says Henry. Rita skirts around the rubble strewn across the floor... moving in behind Lars, while Roxie stands uncomfortably by the door, unwilling to come any closer. "So he's not some alien, mystical monster after all," confirms Rita. "Naw he ain't alien or magical atall...but he is an honest ta God sicko", replies Henry. "What else can you tell me about Dennis", prods Lars. "I can tell you whatevah y'wanna know", chuckles Henry, "I was there that night...I saw what he did the the Cambellford's li'l one, y'know".

[[Ni...]]

Rita's misty gray eyes narrowed as she shifted her glance from Henry to Roxie. Roxie had turned a whiter shade of pale, her long thin fingers pulled the buttons on her blouse and she began to sway back and forth.

 

Since the beginning Lars was acutely aware that Roxie's outward bravdo hid a terror deep within. He grabbed the three legged wooden stool and pulled  Roxie to it and gently eased her down. As her weight came upon the stool one leg gave way. Henry lunged towards Roxie to keep her from getting singed by the flames that were now crackling and dancing from the fireplace. As Henry bent down to pick Roxie up a shiny gold object fell out of his breast pocket and spun on the floor, flickering as it mirrored the reflection of the amber flames.

 

For a moment time was frozen as everyone but Roxie was entranced by the beauty of the object. Roxie lay crumpled on the floor, her thick black fringe of eyelashes fluttered as she opened her eyes wide....

[[...]]

Welcome Nicolette...... Everyone who has written, is so amazing. Truman Capote must be quite amused as looks down with a big smile on his face.

[[Ni...]]

Welcome Nicolette. You guys are all so amazing. Truman Capote must be quite amused as looks down with a big smile on his face.

 

Thanks pj, I hadn't been back to the story for a few days, so I decided to add my 2 cents. You guys are doing a great job! 

[[tr...]]

Within Roxie's mind...images contort, shift, and whorl until they take form. There is something hatching its way out, from the deepest depths of her memories. Phantasms...visions emerge of those situations, she has tried desperately to suppress. She screams in shear horror. Her shriek grows louder and louder...silencing all those presently in the room. The Spanish gold doubloon twirls round and round and round...faster and faster still. Light and flames streak by...upon its shiny skin.  The coin begins to slow and then it whirls in one fixed spot, until it drops, and comes to rest on the floor. Henry scoops up his treasure...holding it up, while Roxie's eyes hypnotically follows its movement. Roxie is barely able to catch her breath, "I remember...I remember everything".

 

"I want the kid," says Dennis as he paces up and down the kitchen floor. Caution was never his fine point...neither was patience. "I don't know where she is", says Mikael " I swear to God, I don't know...please let me go. I don't want to die". Mikael Andanov is seated...his hands and feat viciously bound. He can feel his extremities beating, as the tight ropes cut off his circulation. "I told you never to f*ck with me", growls Dennis. Without warning he grabs one of the nearby plates, tossing it against the wall. It shatters into tiny fragments...tinkling onto the floor. "I trusted you Mikael...but you had to play the good Samaritan", Dennis voice is trembling with anger. He rushes right up to Mikael's face, clutching the chair arms. Dennis' breath heats and stinks up the air...as he stares at his captive eye to eye, "You always thought you were better than me...didn't you", Dennis shouts "didn't you"! Mikael is shaking, crying...knowing that Dennis is beyond control. "DIDN'T YOU", Dennis barks, turning...this time smashing his fist into the wall. "I'm sorry Dennis really...but it wasn't me. I swear on my mother's life", Mikael whimpers fearfully. "Your mother's life? Didn't I tell you? OH sorry dude...she thought she could protect you", Dennis smiles wickedly, "the last thing you ever do is lie to me. So now she won't ever do it again". Dennis swaggers and then straightens himself up, while combing aside his hair with his right hand. He walks up to a small sealed box, placed on the counter top of the kitchen. He picks it up...opens up the lid and then purposely, slowly shambles toward the hogtied Mikael. He lowers the box...shifting it so that Mikael can peer inside. "OH MY GOD, WHAT HAVE YOU DONE? WHAT HAVE YOU DONE", screams Mikael. "I made sure she never lies to me again," with that Dennis pulls out the severed tongued, from inside the box, and throws it at the defenseless Mikael. Then he reaches for the cast iron pan seated in the kitchen sink...turning...striding towards Mikael. Lifting it upwards he says, "I never liked you. You're to much like your mother...untrustworthy and a liar". The pan swings downward.

[[...]]

Lars, sprinting faster than an Olympic gold medal winner, makes a mad dash towards Dennis and tackles him to the hard, time worn floor, saving Mikael from sure death by the iron skillet that was inches away from crushing his skull. Much heavier than Dennis, Lars easily subdues him. Quicker than greased lightning, Dennis gains the strength of a gladiator, and freeing himself from the iron grip of Lars, bolts out the open door, and disappears into the thick woods behind the house......

[[Ka...]]

Dennis runs though the woods, barely catching his breath. The air is filled with the sultry fragrance of magnolia, perfuming the warm June dusk. He gains

even greater speed, and suddenly stumbles and falls over the thick wild sarsaparilla vines. He desperately tries to free himself, and out of  the corner of his eye, sees the shadow of a looming figure...

[[ho...]]

Oh wow " Its you, how did you find me so quickly? Says Dennis.

"Im not who you think I am ". 

[[tr...]]

"Dennis...Dennis...Dennis, always the fool", says the shadowed figure. "I can't tell you how very disappointed I am...knowing that you have failed me in this way", continues the angered voice. "I did everything the way you taught me Vilhem", replies Dennis with a wavering voice. "You did nothing the way I taught you", retorts the angered shade, "what you did do....is that you let overconfidence and power get the better of you".  The shadow bends down, then grasps Dennis' face between his hand...squeezing tightly. "What you did do...much to my dismay...is that you brought the Norwegian to my front door, and that was your very last mistake", snarls Vilhelm.

 

Lars unties Mikael from the tight ropes that bound him. "Oh God...oh God thank you...", Mikael voice is cracking. "You have a very dangerous playmate", says Lars, "I would think that he doesn't like you much". Mikael looks down at the severed tongue, that now lies upon the grimy kitchen floor. "Where's my mom...", asks Mikael. "I'm sorry...we found her body in the garage", answers Lars. Mikael crumbles to the floor, placing his face between his hands. Lars falls silent, allowing the young man time to mourn his loss. He stands above him and places a lone hand, atop Mikael's head. There is not much he can do...Lars feels the pain...he knows it all to well. Lars catches sight of a framed photograph. In it is Mikael, his deceased mother, and Dennis...the man he tackled. They are both standing behing the old woman...playful and smiling. "How could he do this", asks Mikael. "What relations is Dennis to you", asks Lars. "He's my step-brother...she loved him...even more than me. Mom loved him like he was her own...and he did this to her", whimpers Mikael. Lars stares at the old photograph...now yellowed by the suns glare. He knows that his nemesis made many promises...he was always good at giving people false hope. It was a ploy...just a game he played. Once not to long ago...Vilhem almost succeeded in turning him...into such a monster. That time is gone...soon enough he will catch Vilhem, and make him pay for the destruction he has caused.

[[...]]

"Roxie, I never should  have brought you back here. I am going to have Lars drive you back to Flo's place", Rita calmly informed her..."Until we can get to the bottom of what's been happening here, You will be much safer with Flo and Crazy cat". Feeling the weight of the world rise from her weary and tired shoulders, Roxie's firm, seventeen year old body went limp in Rita's strong, reassuring arms. Her lovely green eyes wept soft and lonely tears, filled with every emotion she had ever encountered in her confusing and dangerous young life.

 

A very old and battered light blue sedan with only one headlight, catching the shining eyes of a racoon, off on it's nightly forage for food, pulled up to the Kershaw's unpainted , weather beaten garage. "It's Mr. and Mrs. Kershaw!, they've come back from their trip sooner than I expected" shouted Henry, as he slowly walked towards them, feeling his way through the early evening darkness because Dennis, in a fit of paranoa, had removed the yard light many years ago.....

 

"Now, we can get to the bottom of all the mystery and mayhem surrounding the Kershaws and their evil son Dennis", Henry thought to himself, as he waited for Rita, who was close behind, to catch up to him. " Rita, I would like you to meet Mavis and Robert Kershaw".....

[[Ka...]]

Mavis Kershaw was a striking woman in  her 60's, with regal bearing and medium height, about about 5'5". Robert Kershaw was a few years older, about a half foot taller, and had piercing blue eyes.  They had raised Roxy seven years, and were kind to her.  Roxy often wondered how in the world an evil person like Dennis could possibly emerge from  a lovely home the Kershaw's provided. Mavis and Robert Kershaw were truly good people. This is one thing of which Roxie was certain.

 

"I don't know why everything is coming down on us..we are a good family.  Why is all this happening? Dennis has problems...we know that. When he was little, he was a lovely child.  Then  when  he started school, he started being cruel to people, to animals...I don't know what went wrong!  We have tried and tried to get him help.

 

We only wanted to give Roxie a good home.  She turned out to be a sweet and lovely child.  She would help me with my housework and do the dishes without even being asked.  She would sing a lot...she has a beautiful voice!  We thought she was happy with us.  Why did you run away, Roxie?"  Mavis pleaded, her lovely grey eyes flooding with tears.

[[Ka...]]

"That happens."  Rita, being the tough cop that she was, didn't want to betray any sentimentality.  "Even in families with the best parents, kids can go bad.  I've seen it all the time! Now, let's get on with why I'm here in the first place. I need to get down to the nitty-gritty."

[[...]]

"Mr.and Mrs.Kershaw, Roxanne is 'scared to death' of Dennis. Do you know why that is"?, Rita asked, while motioning for Lars to record the conversation that was about to take place. Rita reached into the pocket of her pretty, yellow  polka dotted blouse, with large  black buttons, and removed a small imitation-leather covered note pad, that was issued to her by the New Orleons Police Department.

 

On the sagging, worn out, red and gold sun-faded couch, the Kershaws patiently sat holding hands, while waiting for Rita to join them. With a  pleasant and reassuring smile on her kind face, she sat down next to them. While doing so, she noticed an old Steinway piano with the music to Beethoven's 'Moonlight Sonata', covered in a layer of dust, resting on the piano bench......."I wonder who played", she asked herself..."I'll bet it was Mavis"......."When Dennis was around 17 years old", began, Mavis, "we discoverd that he, in the presence of our little Roxanne, had tortured and killed Fluffy, the kitten that we had given her on her third birthday". "Our lives, and the lives of many others, have never been the same after that horrific and unspeakable act", remarked Robert, his voice trailing off, to almost a whisper......

[[tr...]]

"Unfortunately...Dennis' crimes did not end there", Robert Mavis is looking into his wife's teary eyes. There is a storm brewing outside. Rain can be heard as it pitter-patters heavily against the old home. Rita looks towards the glass windows. The curtains are drawn open while beyond, she watches the trees and grass sway to and fro, as the wind whips them about. Over the horizon...the dark clouds continue to roll in and the lightning flashes, within the dark billowy masses outside; which cause her to chill over. Mavis chimes in, "No one really understands what happened to Dennis. He was such a happy child...that was until his mother was caught. She was having this torrid affair...with the Dutch fellow". Robert pats Mavis's cold hands and motions her to go on. "Dennis' father was beside himself. He really did love Dennis' mother. In the coming days he went mad and eventually he committed suicide," Mavis turns ashen...Robert embraces her as she begins to tremble. She quietly buries her face against his chest. Robert looks at Lars and Rita...trying his best to smile. "After his death, Vilhem married Dennis' mother and moved into the family home...not to soon after Dennis began to act out. Months later, his mother died mysteriously and Vilhem soon married Abigail...Mikael's mother. Soon enough Dennis began bullying children. Mikael followed suit, but he was not as cruel as his step brother. Finally...the weird rumours began going around town...we thought nothing of it until Fluffy", Robert grimaces with horror. Lars stares at his recorder...deep in thought. Rita continues to write her notes on the pad...before noticing the quiet that now enshrouds the room. Lars coughs...to clear his throat, "I've been looking for this man. He is an older type gentleman. His eyes are a deep grey colour. His skin taut, clear and youthful looking...for someone his age. He has a goatee...salt and peppered. His hair is long and a natural grey and tied back. He is thin in musculature, though he is an immaculately dressed man. In my home town...he was known for being sadistic. He would dominate children, brainwash them, and train them...in the art of abuse and murder". A frown grows upon Robert's face, while Mavis wipes away tears and stares at Lars, "Yes, that is Vilhem. From the day he entered our street...our lives...there has not been a day where we do not live in fear".