FOWC: Release

Mark could feel the touch of leaves against his cheek as a slight breeze moved the frail branches of the bush that shielded him from view. His legs were beginning to cramp as there was a chill in the air and he’d been in the same position for quite some time but he daren’t move, she would be home soon.

Mark could feel the touch of leaves against his cheek as a slight breeze moved the frail branches of the bush that shielded him from view. His legs were beginning to cramp as there was a chill in the air and he’d been in the same position for quite some time but he daren’t move; she would be home soon. He’d been watching Sarah Adley for weeks, delighting in her animated face and her sensual body; he’d always known she was the one.

His patience was rewarded a few minutes later as he heard  a car door opening and Sarah’s laughter as she said something to the driver. A male voice replied and Mark couldn’t make out what was said but he could feel jealousy rising in his gut; Sarah was his and his alone. He changed his position very slightly, careful not to make a sound, so that he could watch her cross the road and skip along the path towards her front door. He could hear her high heels clicking and see the movement of her long skirt as it caressed her delectable thighs; Mark touched himself and felt the swell beneath his hand as he contemplated what was to come.

Sarah had paused with her hand on the control panel for the large gates that marked the entrance to the property. She turned her head, staring into the darkness, a frown on her beautiful face and Mark caught a glimpse of her long neck and the large, single diamond that nestled in the small dip just between her collar bones. How he longed to feel his hands there, to push his thumbs into that indentation and watch the life fade from her terrified eyes. His breathing quickened. There was fear on Sarah’s face now but she hadn’t moved other than to reach into her Hermes clutch bag; her hands were slim and her fingers long and Mark imagined them on his body, touching, clawing.

Mark could feel that he was losing control of his body as his erotic fantasy consumed him. He didn’t want it to be like this but to be so close to her and knowing what was going to happen was too much to bear. Another slight breeze brought her faint perfume to his nostrils and he felt the pure pleasure of sweet release, followed by a heat that ripped into his chest. He fell back onto the grass, lungs heaving and sweat pouring. The last thing he saw before oblivion took him was Sarah’s inviting smile.

“Mrs Adley, I can completely understand your actions, under the circumstances, but you must also appreciate our position” Detective Inspector Slater’s voice was stern “You do not have a carry permit for that gun”

“You’re right Inspector, I don’t” Sarah’s voice was soft and weary “But what was I supposed to do? He’d been stalking me for weeks, sending messages telling me how he was going to rape and strangle me. I’ve shown you the evidence, tell me, what else was I supposed to do?”

“Leave it to us!” Slater was losing patience, he hated it when members of the public took matters into their own hands.

“Leave it to you? Like last time you mean? I told you people that Mark raped me and what did you do? Nothing!” Unshed tears tightened Sarah’s throat and her voice became hoarse “Just because of his fame, his wealth and his insufferable bloody arrogance, I was attacked, hurt and humiliated and you people did nothing!”

Inspector Slater felt sorry for the woman as she put her head in her hands and gave way to quiet weeping but he had no choice; the law was the law and they couldn’t tolerate vigilantism.

“Mrs Adley, Mark is dead. You shot and killed an unarmed man.” Slater took a deep breath “Sarah Adley, you are under arrest for the murder of your ex-husband Mark Adley, you have the right to remain silent but, anything you do say, can and will be used in evidence against you. Do you understand?”

“No, I don’t understand Detective Inspector Slater, I really don’t understand”

Written in response to Fantastic Fandango’s one word prompt.

Lisa x

 

 

FOWC: Victim

Life transpires with hidden challenges 

Unforeseen, frequently unwelcome 

They test our fortitude, our courage 

Our desire to take another step 

Life transpires with hidden challenges

Unforeseen, frequently unwelcome

They test our fortitude, our courage

Our desire to take another step

Forward into  the predestined mire

We stumble and tumble, shattered glass

We take the knocks and devious blights

Oft blinded to, maybe, redemption

Woes hanging heavy in our psyche

And yet, always, there’s another road

Paved with fear and lined by doubt, no doubt

That leads to quietude, mind and soul

That road is for you, my worthy friend

Leave your troublesome burden behind

Divest yourself of that grim label

VICTIM.

This poem was written in response to the Famous Fandango’s one word prompt.

Have a great weekend everyone

Lisa x

 

 

Roses are Red

Just when you think it’s safe to go out 

There is a knock at your heart, tap, tap 

Trepidation calls, bearing flowers 

Roses, red like the blood flowing still 

Just when you think it’s safe to go out

There is a knock at your heart, tap, tap

Trepidation calls, bearing flowers

Roses, red like the blood flowing still

Through your veins to a stone cold  heart

Violets, deep blue as your eyes that weep

To remember the days without fear

Orchid, black reflecting your humour

‘Love me, love me not?’, petals shredded

Destroying the thing of beauty that

Once was your life. Stamens, yellow stain

Rough hands. Colours bleeding into one

Dull grey where once: yellow red, blue

Delicate stems, plain perfect blossom

Dismay brought you a bouquet. But why?

To remind you that he’s there. Tap tap

Just when you think it’s safe to go out.

I had to go to the supermarket this morning and, everywhere I looked, there were red hearts and roses, cards and chocolates and lovers strolling hand in hand. There is a feeling of romance in the air and, this year for some reason, I am not really dealing with it very well. So many tears today I just locked myself away and wrote this poem because I didn’t know what else to do.

Lisa x

 

FOWC: Pencil

“I’m here to help you, do you understand?”

The man had a calming, gentle voice and his face, behind his large black spectacles, was kind. He could elicit a response with nothing more than a well timed pause and an encouraging smile. The prisoner before him was known to be recalcitrant but he’d worked with him over several weeks and felt that they were finally getting somewhere.

“I’m here to help you, do you understand?”

The man had a calming, gentle voice and his face, behind his large black spectacles, was kind. He could elicit a response with nothing more than a well timed pause and an encouraging smile. The prisoner before him was known to be recalcitrant but he’d worked with him over several weeks and felt that they were finally getting somewhere.

“I know that the terrible crimes you committed were in response to a fear that lies deep within you; do you think that you can share that with me Peter?”

Dead, cruel eyes stared back at him. Peter had demonstrated a penchant for violence since early childhood, according to the notes that he had read before agreeing to meet with him and his attacks had escalated over the years until he progressed to murder. 11 women were dead; brutally tortured until their poor broken bodies just couldn’t take any more.

“Perhaps you can you write it down for me?”

He was quite shocked when Peter began to scrawl on the paper before him but said nothing for a few moments, hoping that he would finally get to the root of this man’s problems.

“That’s it Peter, well done, just write down those things that you really fear and we will be able to find a way to set you free”

He leaned forward a little in his cold, metal chair and attempted to read upside down. It was not difficult as Peter had only written one word, over and over again – ‘Fire’. Of course! This was the key, his parents had died in a fire and the local police always thought that Peter had set it but had never been able to prove it and, as he’d only been 7 at the time, what was the point? However, if Peter had set it, why was it his deepest fear?

“Were you there Peter? Did you see who started the fire?”

Had this been the trigger for all his subsequent violent behaviour? Had he witnessed an arsonist setting a trap for himself and his parents? Could that really be enough? He thought again about the terrible crime scene photos that he seen and he wasn’t convinced…

Peter had paused in his writing while he’d watched the emotions flash across the other man’s face. ‘People are so stupid’ he thought and he smiled to himself, a twisted grimace that brought no light to his dark eyes. He was scared of fire, not because of his parents, they’d deserved to die, but because he hadn’t been able to control his one and only experiment with it. He’d thought that the blow torch he’d found in his father’s shed would be so much fun but the flames found the edge of a table cloth and it was all over far too quickly. He’d immobilised  both his mother and father with his baseball bat, what a great birthday gift that had been, but instead of being able to take his pleasure with their prone forms, the fire claimed them and the game was over. Yes, fire terrified him; it took away his control…

It was almost as if he could hear the flicker once more, feel the heat as the red and orange tongues licked at everything they found. He remembered the pain as the fire had streaked across his left hand and it jerked involuntarily.

“Do you see now Peter? Are you finally facing your fear?”

He looked up to see the man smiling at him but it was no longer kind and gentle, it was predatory, the satisfied smile of a hunter that’s finally caught it’s prey.

Peter could feel the flames now, dancing around his feet. He pushed the chair violently and stood up, backing away from the table. He looked down and saw that his white, prison issue trainers were smoldering. He flung himself onto the floor and tried to tear them off but the melting rubber stuck to his hands and began to burn. He screamed as he watched the flames begin their dance and felt the pain as it started to spread……

“I’m sorry Inspector but there’s really nothing I can do with this one, he’s finally tipped over the edge and I don’t think anything will bring him back now”

He turned back and passively observed the prisoner who was now writhing on the floor in apparent agony although no-one could see any immediate cause.

“What happened?” The inspector asked as he indicated to his men that they should take Peter to the psyche ward; if he was any judge this prisoner would end his days there.

“He finally faced his fears” The man looked tired but satisfied

“How did you get him to do it?”

“Me? Nothing. I just gave him the pencil

A gruesome little tale once again inspired by Fandango and his one word prompt

Lisa x

That Moment of Terror….

As Halloween is coming fast upon us I wondered, do you remember the first time that a film or a TV series scared the bejeezus out of you? You know the sort of thing, you’re utterly terrified but  you just can’t tear your eyes away from the screen. I remember hiding behind the sofa when the Daleks ventured onto the set of Doctor Who but it was watching a film called the Medusa Touch which gave me my first experience with blind terror…

As Halloween is coming fast upon us I wondered, do you remember the first time that a film or a TV series scared the bejeezus out of you? You know the sort of thing, you’re utterly terrified but  you just can’t tear your eyes away from the screen. I remember hiding behind the sofa when the Daleks ventured onto the set of Doctor Who but it was watching a film called the Medusa Touch which gave me my first experience with blind terror…

I was at home on my own so I must have been a teenager and I guess it was early evening when I started watching the film. It wasn’t a horror film per se as it was distinctly lacking in blood and gore but the suspense! Oh my God! As psychological thrillers go this was up there with the best. It played with my mind in such a way that every slight noise in the house made me jump and huddle closer to the dog for comfort. I should point out that the dog in question was an extremely anti-social miniature dachshund who had little or not interest in scary films or hysterical teenagers and was therefore no help whatsoever but still……

It was getting towards the end of the film and the suspense had built and built; I could not take my eyes off the screen, I’m fairly sure I’d stopped blinking altogether by this point.

“What was that?!” I asked the dog

He didn’t answer but gave me a withering look and wandered off looking for food, obviously thoroughly exasperated with my jumps and gasps. This time, however, I wasn’t jumping at nothing, I could hear someone moving about upstairs; I broke into a cold sweat. I tried to tell myself that it was my over active imagination but then I heard footsteps on the stairs; the second from the top creaked……and there it was……creeaaak.

My heart was was going like the clappers, my palms were sweaty; what was I going to do? I was all alone in the house, I didn’t have time to get a weapon and the dog was no bloody use. I’d forgotten all about the film. I was on my feet and staring at the frosted glass door that separated hall from living room, there was someone there. I was frozen with terror as the door handle turned with unbearable slowness….

And then my Dad walked in. I screamed at the top of my lungs which in turn scared the crap out of him so he yelled causing the dog to come hurtling into the room, frantically barking and snarling and looking for someone to bite.

After we’d all calmed down a bit I figured out that, I’d been so intent on this damn film, I hadn’t heard my Dad come in from work. It was only in a very quiet and mind numbingly scary moment that my brain registered a presence.

Needless to say there were a few nightmares after all this and I was banned from watching scary films until I was 18. At 16, I watched the Amityville Horror at the cinema which, predictably gave me terrible nightmares which, in turn, woke up my parents…I was not popular!

What was your first scary movie? Let me know, I’d love to hear from you

Lisa

x

Fear

Vile and loathsome creature, take your claws from my gut

Let go your hold. Leave me to walk alone, without you

Pulling me back, holding me close, whispering, despicable

Forcing my mind wide open to pour in foul imagery

Vile and loathsome creature, take your claws from my gut

Let go your hold. Leave me to walk alone, without you

Pulling me back, holding me close, whispering, despicable

Forcing my mind wide open to pour in foul imagery

You deplete strength, hope, will, leading me ever closer

To the edge. You push my thoughts, my body too far

You hold my hand, tight, but with cajoling, sweet voice

You await the moment, the final introduction, hello

Goodbye. You are merely the plaything, the precursor

To your master Death. You torture, he watches and waits

There is no joy in you, no frail link to those you torment

You are nothing. You have no purpose, no reason to be

And yet I continue to feed you, the beast that you are

Your cold breath on my spine, I want to beat you, begone

You are familiar, twisted friend. So many years together

Fighting. Why won’t you leave me? Please don’t leave me.

 

Lisa

x

Fighting Amongst Yourself

Have you ever had a fight with yourself? I don’t mean taking yourself by the scruff of the neck and throwing yourself over the back of the sofa, more a fight within the confines of your own mind. I believe the technical term is ‘internal dialogue’, when the exchange is calm and productive, this is more of an ‘internal slanging match’. It’s as though your thoughts suddenly take against each other……

Have you ever had a fight with yourself? I don’t mean taking yourself by the scruff of the neck and throwing yourself over the back of the sofa, more a fight within the confines of your own mind. I believe the technical term is ‘internal dialogue’, when the exchange is calm and productive, this is more of an ‘internal slanging match’. It’s as though your thoughts suddenly take against each other……

Usually it begins with a single, simple phrase that runs through your mind, dragging a negative, but all too willing, emotion along with it

“I can’t do this!”  says the Captain of team doubt, accompanied by Sergeant Anxiety.

“Of course you can, it’s a wonderful opportunity”

The Captain of team positive thinking takes centre stage flanked by a couple of pom pom waving cheer leaders from Camp self-esteem

“I can’t, it’s too much pressure, I know it’s going to be a disaster”

Team doubt have been joined by Fear (always a big player) and a couple of rejects from Camp self-esteem who were kicked out for ‘not playing well with others’.

“We’ve talked about this. You cannot know what will happen; let go of control and just go where life takes you”

cheerleadersTeam positive thinking have recruited self-confidence (who did not come willingly) The cheerleaders are busy chanting motivational quotes and trying to work out how to build a human pyramid with just the two of them.

 

“Oh bugger off you bloody hippy, what do you know about it”

The rejects from Camp self-esteem take this opportunity to wrestle the pom poms from the cheerleaders and start hitting self-confidence over the head with them; not an eager participant in the first place, he makes a run for it.

“I’m you, you blithering idiot!”

At this point both sides will realise what a nonsense their battle really is or they’ll both take serious offence and launch an all out attack on each other, which results in the owner of the warring thoughts having to lie down in a darkened room for a couple of days.

Viewing my inner dialogue scraps like this is the only way that I can keep them from drawing battle lines and really wrecking my life. Today, I enlisted the help of Common Sense who is currently standing in the middle of the two protagonists with his arms folded and a stern ‘don’t mess with me you bastards’ look on his face.

Why is all this necessary? Well, a couple of my closest friends have organised a surprise for me today.

“I don’t like surprises”

“How do you know, you don’t know what it is, that’s the point of surprises”

“Oh, sod off with your bloody logic, I know what I don’t like”

Sorry, guys, I need to go and give Common Sense a hand, they seem to be giving him a wedgie……..

See you later

Lisa x

 

 

Song Lyric Sunday: Fear

Good morning fellow bloggers and Happy Sunday :O) I hope that this has been a great week for you and that next week will be even better! So, here we are again with Song Lyric Sunday, brought to you by the amazing Helen over at This thing called life one word at a time. I’m such a fan of this because I absolutely love music and I really hope that you’ll give it a try to; it’s a super way to make new blogging friends and beef up your playlists.

Good morning fellow bloggers and Happy Sunday :O) I hope that this has been a great week for you and that next week will be even better! So, here we are again with Song Lyric Sunday, brought to you by the amazing Helen over at This thing called life one word at a time. I’m such a fan of this because I absolutely love music and I really hope that you’ll give it a try to; it’s a super way to make new blogging friends and beef up your playlists.

Here are the rules:

  • Post the lyrics to the song of your choice, whether it fits the theme or not
  • Please try to include the songwriter(s) – it’s a good idea to give credit where credit is due and it’s honestly just a simple Google search
  • Make sure you also credit the singer/band and provide a link to where you found the lyrics
  • Link to the YouTube video, or pull it into your post so others can listen to the song
  • Ping back to this post or my own Song Lyric Sunday post
  • Read at least one other person’s blog so we can all share new and fantastic music and create amazing new blogging friends in the process

The theme for this week is fear and, despite Helen’s reservations, this was an easy one for me as I can share one of my favourite songs which is by an absolute music legend:

 

“Scary Monsters (And Super Creeps)”

She had an horror of rooms
she was tired
you can’t hide beat
When I looked in her eyes they were blue but nobody home

She could’ve been a killer
if she didn’t walk the way she do,
and she do
She opened strange doors
that we’d never close again

She began to wail jealousies scream
Waiting at the light know what I mean

[CHORUS (twice)]
Scary monsters, super creeps
Keep me running, running scared

She asked me to stay
and I stole her room
She asked for my love
and I gave her a dangerous mind
Now she’s stupid in the street
and she can’t socialise
Well I love the little girl
and I’ll love her till the day she dies

She wails
Jimmy’s guitar sound
jealousies scream
Waiting at the light know what I mean

[CHORUS (twice)]

[CHORUS (twice)]

Run, Run, Run [ad lib]

Written and performed by David Bowie
I was a fan of Bowie’s from the age of about 12 or 13 quite simply because he was doing things that other artists weren’t and that didn’t change over the years. He would change his look, his style and his music over and over again; he surprised, he shocked, sometimes he even disturbed but, above all, he entertained! There is no doubt in my mind that the man was a musical genius and a great lyricist. There is one line in this particular song which just captured the dark side of my imagination the moment that I heard it:
She asked me to stay
and I stole her room
She asked for my love
and I gave her a dangerous mind
Is it the confession of a psychopath or the story of a drug user’s descent into madness?
This song won’t be to everyone’s taste and just in case here’s my other favourite song of Bowie’s which is just sublime; his delivery is simple, passionate and full of emotion:

 

And just to go against all the rules this week I have to share this with you just because the lyrics are pure poetry; they’re shown on the video but here’s an except to show you what I mean:

Some people are marching together and some on their own
Quite alone
Others are running, the smaller ones crawl
But some sit in silence, they’re just older children
That’s all

 

Right that’s it, I ‘m going to stop now because otherwise I’ll be here all day!

Have a wonderful Sunday everyone :O)

Lisa x

Wine and the Art of Conquering Fear

Morning chaps :O) I have a question for you. Have you ever been in a situation where you had no idea what the outcome would be but you put the brakes on because the thing that stood between you and your final destination scared the bejeezus out of you? What was at the end of the road could have been amazing or terrible but you never got to find out because you just couldn’t get past your fear?

Morning chaps :O) I have a question for you. Have you ever been in a situation where you had no idea what the outcome would be but you put the brakes on because the thing that stood between you and your final destination scared the bejeezus out of you? What was at the end of the road could have been amazing or terrible but you never got to find out because you just couldn’t get past your fear?

If the answer is yes then can I just take a few minutes of your time to tell you what happened to me last night? My best friend and I had popped over to Nice for a great dinner of savoury crepes with guacamole (yum!) and, as is the norm in summer we’d taken his motorbike (I love speed and am always a willing passenger despite the havoc that a crash helmet plays with your hair when it’s 26 degrees C) . As is my wont I had a couple of glasses of red wine with dinner.

I was expecting to go straight home but we headed off into the mountains and stopped at the edge of a narrow path. Now, I should tell you at this point that common sense is very much the order of the day around here so most of the smaller mountain roads don’t have barriers; the idea is that, if you are sensible, you’ll look where you’re going and won’t fall off!

This is a bit of an issue for me because I do like to have something between me and the edge of a cliff, I’m funny like that! So, there we were, umpty ump hundreds of feet up a mountain, on a little path with no barriers, in the dark with just the light of a phone to guide our steps.

At this point I was on the point of bottling out as I really, really don’t like heights and I knew that a few people would be pretty pissed off if I plunged to my death. However, I had been previously fortified by just enough alcohol to overcome my fears but not so much that I couldn’t safely put one foot in front of the other.

IMG_5705I carried on, stumbling occasionally and wondering what on earth we were doing up here in the middle of the night but then we reached a small platform at the end of the long, windy and slightly treacherous path. Oh My GOD!!!! The View!!! I just cannot tell you how unbelievably beautiful it was (the photos do not do it justice). I literally just gazed with my mouth open and my eyes like saucers.

To top it off, as we stood there, a huge firework display started in the middle of Monaco (some sporting event or another was going on) and we had a birds eye view! It lasted for about 15 minutes and was absolutely spectacular. What an amazing experience!

The moral of this story is that, if I hadn’t overcome my fear of heights, I would have missed all of it. I didn’t know what was at the end of the path and it would have been so easy to just give in to my terror and turn back; I would never have known what I was missing but, oh boy, what I would have missed!

I can’t say that, from now on, I’ll be grabbing each adventure that comes my way without fear or worry but I do know that I won’t be letting fear stop me from having those adventures. Maybe I’ll even get to the point where I’ll be having them without the aid of a glass of vino, who knows ;O)

Please let me know if you’ve ever missed out because of your fears or even just if you like wine (at least we know we’ll have something in common), I’d really love to hear from you

Lisa x

 

IMG_5719

Advertising: Free Space for Rant

This is a completely free, one time offer to all my fellow bloggers. Do you have days when you are pissed off with the world in general and you really want to let rip? Do you keep it to yourself so that you don’t offend/have to live with the recriminations/upset those you love etc etc? If so this space is for you – you can rent a vent :O)

This is a completely free, one time offer to all my fellow bloggers. Do you have days when you are pissed off with the world in general and you really want to let rip? Do you keep it to yourself so that you don’t offend/have to live with the recriminations/upset those you love etc etc? If so this space is for you – you can rent a vent :O)

One of my friends gave me this idea (thanks Floriane) as she felt that it would be therapeutic to let some stuff out by writing it down and I thought ‘I’ve got a blog! What better place is there to lose your shit?’ Then I thought ‘Why keep it to yourself? We all need a good old rage every now and again so why not give everyone a chance? They’ll either thank you for it or you’ll have to start looking for some new followers tomorrow’.

Anyway, knowing what a great bunch you are and also how many of you have some serious crap to deal with I’m going ahead:

“Do you have any idea how much I hate you Cancer? Can you even begin to possibly fathom how deep my loathing is for you? You came, without warning, for no fucking reason at all and you took the only man I have ever really loved.

You brought him fear and pain and unbelievable suffering and for what??? You are a parasite, a pathetic life sucking, hope draining parasite and you murdered him. You leeched out his life force, his happiness, his dreams. You took away his future for fucks sake! And I watched it! You forced me to watch as you slowly destroyed him – you evil, sick twisted little bastard!

Oh sure  you left me with memories but what good are memories? I can’t touch a memory or hold it or kiss it can I? And do you know the problem with memories You can’t get shot of them; I can’t wipe out the ones that I want to and just leave the good ones! I can’t just lose the memories of him wasting away before my eyes can I????

Thanks to you a truly lovely man was ripped away from the people who love him, who needed him. Why did you even want him? You fed on him and you grew; an ugly, spiteful, vindictive, self-serving monster and then, at the very end, when you took his last precious breath, you died with him – what the fuck is wrong with you!?

You took everything you vicious little bastard and I HATE you for it but this anger I have for you is slowly ruining whatever is left of my life so I am giving it back to you. Here is my hate – take it and may you rot in hell”

I’m not going to apologise for my rant or the bad language because the rock that’s been sitting on my chest for the last goodness knows how long feels lighter somehow. There is a sense of peace in me that wasn’t there before.

If you need to let off some steam – please feel free.

  • No-one will judge you for it
  • No-one will mock you
  • No-one will criticise
  • You won’t have to apologise afterwards
  • You can swear if you need to
  • You don’t have to make sense
  • You won’t have to feel guilty
  • You won’t hurt anyone

So there you go, I’m advertising a free rant space; it’s there if you need it.

With love

Lisa x