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Week 470 (November 3-November 11) Stories Topic: A Drop in the Ocean
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AUTHOR: Garrison KellyTITLE: Butterscotch
GENRE: Demonic Horror
WORD COUNT: 1,856
RATING: R for violence and swearing
The tear that burned Abby Cole’s purple and black eye was but a droplet in an ocean of sorrow and silence. Though she kept her head down as she walked hurriedly down the street, she was painfully aware of passersby staring at her wound. Whether it was in pity or disgust, she was too numb to figure out. Their stares made her feel like even more of an outcast than she already was. The difference between the gawking pedestrians and Daniel Park? Abby could easily forget the judgmental masses. After all, they weren’t the ones who threw the punch during school in the first place.
The more Daniel Park’s cold, demonic expression stained her mind, the more her colorful eye burned with pooling tears. His screams earlier that day were barely intelligible, but they were loud enough to leave her ears ringing. His fist was harder than a cinder block and almost put her into a permanent sleep. Getting rid of him would be an easy solution for the school administration, but it would imply that anybody cared. Judging from the cracked infrastructure and unwashed graffiti surrounding the school, the uncaring attitudes of those in charge were more obvious than the all-consuming wound across Abby’s face.
Abby couldn’t even think about anything else at that moment. If she tried to do math homework that evening, she would only be counting the pieces of her face she had to pick up. If she tried to do history homework, then she could justify putting so many violent wars in one textbook, hers chief among them. If she tried to write a poem, no words would come out, just like her current silence dictated. Forget A-pluses and scholarships. All she wanted to do was lie face down on her bed and drift into the darkness forever and ever.
She had passed a few neon signs in the street for barbecue joints and strip clubs and their obnoxious lights burned her eye as well. She couldn’t open it to full length no matter how hard she tried…until a little patch of fur came darting out of the alleyway. Nobody else was there to judge her and the tiny kitten. The cat stared up at Abby with pitiful eyes and let out a series of soft, high-pitched meows. His yellow and orange striped fur looked gentle enough to touch despite him being a street cat who no doubt had to fight for his food.
Abby’s smile was wide enough to burn her eye again, but this time she didn’t wince nor care. “Come on, little kitty!” she sweetly said while kneeling down on the ground and holding her hand out. “It’s okay, nobody’s going to hurt you. Are you lost? Do you need some snuggles and love?” The cat meowed at her some more before creeping up to her hand and jumping into her arms for a hug. He purred loudly in her ear while Abby stroked his velveteen fur. “I’m going to call you Butterscotch, because you’re sweet!”
Butterscotch licked Abby’s bruise with his rough tongue and caused some yellow leakage, but she didn’t mind as evidenced by her giggles and continued pettings. “You’re such a love bug!” she squealed to him. Forget laying in bed all night long. She could stay in these now empty streets for eternity if it meant loving and being loved by this tender creature. Butterscotch would never punch her in the face. He would never scream obscenities about pimping and prostitution. This kitty would never stare at Abby with evil eyes.
Daniel Park, on the other hand, didn’t mind doing those things at all. His familiar gruff voice could be heard clearing his throat and just like that, Butterscotch leapt out of Abby’s arms and hid behind a dustbin, leaving her with a mild scratch on her bare arm. Abby began to feel conscious about any other body part that could be easily revealed to Daniel. Her flannel skirt showed off her legs. Her high heeled shoes gave away free foot content. She pulled on her black T-shirt to keep it from looking too tight on her.
With his victim trembling before him unable to speak, the leather-jacket-wearing, face-tattooed Daniel lit up a cigarette and slowly approached her with a tightened fist. “So…have you thought about my offer from earlier? Are you ready to make me an ass-load of money? I want that ass, Abby. I got horny bastards that’ll pay good money for an ass like that. What do you say?” No answer, only trembles and tears. “Are you deaf?!” he roared before taking another drag of his cigarette and stomping it out.
“Uh…uh…uh…Daniel? I, uh…I can’t do that.” Abby had a hard time steadying her body, almost to where she was going to fall over.
Daniel grabbed a hold of Abby’s shirt and caused her to yelp. “Shut up, bitch!” he screamed as he raised his fist in the air. “I was asking rhetorical questions when I made you that offer. I’m not giving you a choice, bitch. You either come with me and sell some ass or I’ll leave you laying in the fucking street. It doesn’t matter to me either way. Bitches like you are a dime a dozen!” He lifted up her skirt and she could only tremble some more. “Since you won’t be able to use that mouth of yours for a while…I was wondering if…”
Butterscotch emerged from behind the dustbin and hissed at Daniel. He asked, “Who’s that little shit stain? Friend of yours, Abby? You wish your pussy was that small?”
“L…l…leave Butterscotch alone!” Abby flinched in anticipation for another punch.
“Butterscotch? Is that what you’re calling him? Shit, I don’t even have to beat your ass again. I’ll just wring this little fucker’s neck, how about that?”
Abby collapsed on the ground and sobbed as Daniel slowly approached Butterscotch, pounding his fists and earning hisses and growls for his intimidation tactics. “Here, kitty-kitty-kitty!” he said in a creepy voice. “Maybe I’ll take my phone out and play some Sarah McLaughlin music or some shit. That’d make a hell of an ASPCA commercial, don’t you think?”
“Leave him alone!”
“Fuck you, cunt!” Daniel raised his fist in the sky and poised for another beat down on Abby. She tightly closed her eyes and held her hands up in defeat, so she only got to hear the action when Butterscotch screamed and scratched Daniel hard enough that he let out a monstrous, “Ouch!”
The double-tracked yell plus the goopy noise emitting from Daniel’s wound caused Abby to open her eyes to see what was up. Green ooze leaked from his palm while his eyes glowed neon red. He stared down at her and said, “That’s right, bitch. I’m a motherfucking demon. We’re everywhere! Ever wonder why nobody gives a shit about your sorry ass? Demons don’t give a shit about anyone, so don’t feel too left out.”
Abby’s breathing intensified and her heart rate sped up to dizzying heights as it lodged in her throat. She was just going to lay there for her attacker while Butterscotch snuggled up against her chest. Demons ran this world whether she accepted it or not. Demons weren’t in the business of fixing schools or policing criminals. They were in the business of creating even deeper bruises on people more vulnerable than her. They were in the business of selling ass and literally raising hell.
Abby didn’t want to live in such a world anymore, but realized that if she gave up now, she wouldn’t be able to hold sweet kitties in her arms wherever the afterlife took her. A coffin was no place for a grieving cat. Her body was no place for a demon’s hands, which had developed wrinkles, hair, and claws as they reached down to grab her. Butterscotch swiped at Daniel again and opened his palm gash even wider, causing more green goop to spill.
“Goddamn it, you little bastard! I’m going to rip your tail off and shove it up Abby’s pussy!” Daniel wrapped his good hand around Butterscotch’s neck and was poised to make good on his threats.
Abby remembered that there were no sweet kitties in the afterlife. Butterscotch needed her here and now. If she wasn’t going to fight for herself, she had to fight for her new furry friend. She saw an opening…mainly the one in Daniel’s hideous hand. In one swift motion, she grabbed the demon’s wound with her manicured nails and opened it wider and wider with every slash. Tears poured down her face and blinded her from the green goop spilling everywhere. Her ears bled from the demon’s screaming in pain. Her ears also took a pounding from Butterscotch growling as he bit his attacker.
Soon enough, Abby ripped off an entire strip of demonic skin. And another. And another. Her heart rate could barely keep up with her tearful rage. “Die, you motherfucker! Just die already!” she screamed as she ripped more flesh from the gaping wound. She pulled out muscle fibers and organ pieces. She ripped a piece of bone out as well after some hard tugging. She had to stop her rage for a moment to wipe her eyes, but when they were clear, they widened at her handiwork.
Daniel’s red devil arm was stripped completely of skin and muscles. His green goopy blood sprayed all over the ground and leaked into the sewers. His screams grew silent and more pathetic as he crumpled to the ground dying. His string of obscenities remained unintelligible, but not because of traumatic blocking. He bled and broke until his monstrous, muscle-bound, leather-skinned body was just a heap of crap lying on the sidewalk, no different from one of Butterscotch’s constitutionals. To put it mildly, Daniel Park was dead.
Abby’s body still shook in a combination of shock and trauma. Her painful eye was still wide and achy. Her mouth kept trembling as she spoke. “I did it,” she said in amazement. “I killed that bastard. He’s gone…” She leaned down to extend her demonic-ooze-covered hand to Butterscotch and he licked the fluid off for her. “You saved my life, little guy. You’re just a baby. You shouldn’t have to save people like me. You should be cuddled and loved forever. Dad would never let me keep you.” That last sentence caused more tears to scorch her purple wound.
“Don’t worry, baby Butterscotch. I’ll find you a nice home. I’ll get you away from these demons…if there really are more out there. Hell, I wouldn’t be surprised if my good-for-nothing dad was one himself. He’d never believe me if I told him what Daniel did to me. He’d just be like, ‘Suck it up! Rah-rah-rah-rah-rah!’”
Butterscotch rubbed his head against Abby’s ankle and she rewarded him with scratches behind the ears. Only then did she notice that his claws were marked with weird-looking runic symbols. They were long, too. And jagged. Did this cat know what he was doing all along? That gave Abby an idea…
“Hey, Butterscotch…would you like to meet my daddy? Of course you would! Hehe!”
ooh, was the prompt inspired by a Rumi quote?
It was actually from a song lyric. :)
Which song was it Courtney? Now I'm curious.
A Drop in the Ocean by Ron Pope.
C.P. wrote: "A Drop in the Ocean by Ron Pope."Awesome. Thanks, Courtney! :)
ONE IN ALL, ALL IN ONEDouglas Montgomery – Oct. 28, 2019
When I feel lost in a crowd;
When I feel free in the open space;
Wherever I am;
I try to remember:
It is my place...
and my time…
to celebrate…
and not to think that I am
anything more or less
than who I believe I am…
because I know
the fabric of the world
is not a single thread,
not one color,
not one place,
not one drop,
and not one time.
We are knit
as a curtain on a loom
as one word,
no matter it’s definition,
is not alone
telling an endless story.
If a mustard seed is insignificant
then the meal is as well.
An ocean cannot be an ocean
without the droplet.
Without everything...
there is nothing.
So it is all beautiful
and beautiful...
is the everything of it.
Every kernel is a loaf,
every past a memory,
every minute a future,
every snowflake a glacier,
every star a galaxy,
and every grain of sand a beach,
one in all,
All in one
my soul a particle
of God’s soul.
©Copyright 2019 Douglas Montgomery
Hey there, Doug! I love the poem, but you posted it here in the short story thread instead of the poem thread. No big deal, I'm just steering you in the right direction. Again, excellent poem!
Title: RescueWord Count: 1273
He laid in his room, to him it felt as if it was for eternity. His mind ceaselessly pondered his life; he pictured all his debts, his problems that were still not solved and they danced ceaselessly above his head as if in mocking dreams.
He was hearing a song in his head as if it were playing endlessly on an invisible radio. Floating over the raging sea/How deep is the ocean?/How deep is the OCEAN/ Feeling like the bed was his body of water he wondered if he could drown in that deep place he broke from that thought when there was a knock on the door.
"Come in." he said with all the effort he could muster. His adopted mother appeared. He felt her presence only because his bed suddenly shifted upwards when she sat next to him.
"Hey pal..."
"Don't call me 'pal." I'm sixteen. Every time you call me pal I feel like a corny little brat with baseball gear on getting ready to play some ball with the 'old man.'"
"Oh... well, would you like to play ball with Dad?"
"No. You obviously don't know me." He kept his back to her. James never knew the pain that would come with getting adopted. He was put up by two jerks who obviously didn't want him then was cast between multiple foster parents. There were many who only cared for the paycheck more than if he had lived or died in his care. Actually they at least cared that he didn't die; then they'd forgo any other chance to get another child for money. He was an adopted dog to them, a rescue that should never have been in their care.
And now he was here. These people didn't know him. They seemed to care but that didn't stop the "others" from breaking that façade. It only took about a month before their real selves were revealed. Those foster jerks. The abuse. The things that happened to him he would never tell a soul.
Thinking of that tears began on the rims of his eyelids. With stubbornness he wiped them away. No. I can't let my weakness be seen. No one can know I can't survive well with what I went through.
He then forgot the woman was still with him. He hoped to goodness he hadn't said anything aloud.
"Well I might not know you but I could try. You've started school and I know from the teachers you are doing remarkably well."
"What for an adopted brat? Were they expecting me to join a gang? Bring a knife to school?"
"Wow, child. Don't think like that. I don't want anyone in this house to talk like that."
Dave then felt like his only voice then was put out like a flame cruelly killed by a couple of wet fingers. It seemed now all that would get him through this family was some kind of vow of silence.
"But I do want you to talk to me and your father." she continued. "You must know that your father and I have been yearning to have a child. We never could... do that naturally." She paused. "But you are here because we love you."
"No I am here because my parents decided to smoke crack instead of keep me! And you and that guy downstairs did not have me. They. did."
His heart felt like a ball of stone. To him it was like it was meant to be that parents when they have kids they should keep them. Original parents are meant to keep their kids, no exceptions!
"That might seem true."
"You broad, it IS true. Stop dancing around it. I'm a nobody that my parents didn't want and now you guys have me like you're trying to make up for your failed marriage!"
"Whoa, now that is not true mister. We are not having kids because we're insecure about our relationship. Now you are really out of line!"
Hearing her spout that made him realize he really did take it too far. He saw these guys as two who did seem to care (at least as long as he knew them). They almost seemed like two people who ever did any wrong.
He was silent and the air was heavy. His face he could feel was red like a person who was losing oxygen would show and he was jealous that a person like that would die and not have to continue a conversation like this.
She took a deep breath. "I know people when they get upset sometimes they say things they don't mean. I myself could have blurted out some things or a hundred things that popped into my mind but I know that it would be wrong. It wouldn't be true either. I want to be a good example to you so for thinking such things I'm sorry."
He felt brave and turned in his bed. The sudden bounce nearly startled the mother who when he turned she had a look of horror.
"But.... Oh sorry.... that is the thing though. You guys never seem to do any wrong. You want me to be a good example but I feel like you guys are hiding a lot of how you really are.... or at least you are real to each other but not me."
She looked down and seemed to ponder it. Then she made a small bounce as if to make a silent "hmm."
Another pause later and she said. "You know what? You are right. I think I try so hard to look like a person who is the image of parenting but I have to be.... 'real' to you as well."
She almost made a "yo homie" type of gesture that was so out of place James nearly cringed. He fought a laugh. He spoke up.
"And the thing is. I often try very hard to do the right thing but because you guys have been like that since I arrived I feel like I can not live up to you. You guys do seem to have it together and I was angry earlier about saying that. I'm sorry."
The realization hit her like a ton of bricks. Now she was tearing up. Out of his old habits he looked away. He felt probed when people seemed like they understood what he was going through and it made him uncomfortable.
And though at that moment he knew he did care about them he was not a person to show emotions just not yet.
But his mom didn't care about that.
She grabbed up her son almost like he was an infant and gave him the biggest hug in his life, gently rocking him. His words were smeared and nearly suffocated against her sternum.
"Oh James. My sweetie."
"Yeah...?"
"I'm so sorry I have made you go through things like that."
"Um, okay...?"
"I and your father will treat you better and in ways you will deserve."
"Appreciate it..."
When he let her go it was like a weight was pulled off of James chest (and not just because it was earlier squished into hers). He felt a coolness as she got up and left his room. He watched her go, seemingly not caring but he and she both knew a breakthrough had just occurred.
And for the first time in his life, he felt no longer like some nobody floating in the ocean, but that a lifesaver had been thrown to him. He had been rescued this entire time.
Is your full story here, CJ?
Yes. After editing it many times I finally made it to the end, lol!
Hey, everyone! I want to vote in both the story and poetry polls for this week, but I can't find them anywhere. What's up?
Did the links in the message not work?
...And that's where I went wrong. I, uh...may have prematurely deleted the message...Sorry!
Hahaha, no problem. I'll try and copy them here. They don't like showing up on the main page for some reason, but I'll also check that setting.
They should show up now when you click the polls option. I hadn't selected the option to pin them to the homepage.
Thanks for getting that cleared up, CP. You're an amazing admin. :)
On it as always Courtney! Saw this post now and was about to send a message to him copied from yours but I see that you've worked it out already (since a mod can only send one major message to all members a day). I agree with Garrison as well! :D
Garrison wrote: "Hey there, Doug! I love the poem, but you posted it here in the short story thread instead of the poem thread. No big deal, I'm just steering you in the right direction. Again, excellent poem!"Thanks, Garrison. Regards.
Please post directly into the topic and not a link. Please don’t use a story previously used in this group. Only one submission per person is allowed.
Your story should be between 300 and 3,500 words long.
REMEMBER! A short story is not merely a scene. It must have a beginning, a middle, and an end.
This week’s topic is: A Drop in the Ocean
The rules are pretty loose. You could write a story about anything that has to do with the subject/photo but it must relate to the topic somehow.
Most of all have fun!