First Chapter of God Loathes You

Stephanie Jones

I remember the first time I laid eyes on her. She was a petite blond with an hourglass figure and perky little tits topped off by a cute smile. Her long, golden fleece of hair was always done up in a ponytail, allowing me to get lost in her depth-less sky blues. I thought to myself, what a fine gift to mankind she was. A divine gift sent from on high, and how could I a mere mortal soul, get close to it?

Thinking back, I doubt those were my exact thoughts but one can romanticize one’s own thoughts, can’t they? She was popular the instant she walked down the halls. And why wouldn’t she be? She had the looks, came from a good background and a laundry list of other qualifications. In spite of it all, she was a real sweetie and down to earth. Yeah I was quite the quiet boy in class and especially around the ladies.

She went on to become the head cheerleader and the envy of the entire squad. Henry Williams, the star quarterback, and big jock on campus, took to her like a fish out of water. This sudden release from his previous shackles of lust resistance was no surprise. His coach had kept him and the rest of the football team on a short lease and I guess I had hoped that would score me a chance with our new head cheerleader. Wishful thinking, I suppose.

High School had been a drag and the only thing besides her that kept it interesting for me was my twin friends, Eric and Tyson, and our mutual interest in smoking cigarettes and having dreams about hot female celebrity losing our virginities. Now, you may be asking how we, who obsessed over sex so much, could not seal the deal. First and foremost, we didn’t come from money and second of all, none of us drove, let alone had a car.

Anyway, on the return from Christmas break, this being my sophomore year in high school; I had managed to convince my folks to take me to the DMV to get the driving test out of the way. And I passed it on the first go. And later that week I had landed me a job at Hardees. So far so good I thought. My plan was starting to come together. There was a hitch, however. And that was how to win Stephanie’s heart without getting my ass kicked by the J Crew catalog.

Weeks passed and I got my first check. The first dollar was put in a frame and a few more spent on junk food and the rest I deposited in a bank account. Still I hadn’t seen much of the girl of my dreams except for fourth period Algebra, and that was it. I wasn’t much into sports. I had played some little league ball in Nassau County and at my old middle school. But once I moved down south my ambitions changed. Hell I don’t think I knew what I wanted back then. Maybe I still don’t.

A month went by and then another before my Steph stopped by my place of employment. Her face glowed and her smile left me quiet and giddy. She must have taken my silence and stupid facial expression as a sign that I was ready to take her order. Yes, luck would have me working the front when of all people showed up. After finally hearing her words for what must’ve been the third attempt at ordering, I stammered through that confused and dorky facial expression that will forever haunt me.

Then something unexpected happened. She spoke to me and I mean like directly to me. “I know you, don’t I?” she asked her voice soft and gentle and friendly.

All I could do was nod and smile. Good thing my feet were hidden behind the counter because the only thing keeping me from making a worse fool of myself was me stopping my foot hard. It worked well enough to get a few words out. “Yeah, we got fourth period Algebra together with Mrs. Stone,” I managed evenly.

She smiled and paid for her food. I took the smile and returned it with one of my own. And right as she was about to leave she said, “You’re James, aren’t ya?” To which I quickly responded before I lost my nerve, “Yes,” smiling still.

 So this went on for the rest of the school year unbeknownst to the star jock. She and I became good friends and while that was great and all I tried for more. She did like me but she already had a man and his name was, Henry Williams. So I dialed back my personal affection and gave her some room.

 Mr. Jock gave me the stink eye every time we passed in the halls. Boy was I on edge, thinking this was the time he’d use my face as his personal punching bag. But it never happened. Did he think me not worth his time? Or did he resist the urge to bludgeon me into an unrecognizable mess out of respect to her and her friendship with me? I don’t know and to be honest I couldn’t give a fuck.

One afternoon in my junior year, it was august. I was in Ms. Heathe’s AP English Lit class and it was the hottest day that year. I recall sweating balls and being particularly horny. A few days ago I had received my first and only sexual gratuity in the form of a brief albeit notable blowy in the janitor’s closet. Cynthia Barnes, known for insatiable sexual appetite, had made her make on me. I paid her attention and as a reward for my attention and supposed affection, she returned the favor in her own special way.

I guess this was an awakening of sorts. Cynthia had stirred something that had lain dormant in me since birth. My sleeping dragon was wide awake and hungry for sexual pleasure. Enter Ms. Heathe and her sweaty, tanned hard body and perfectly formed gams that beckoned young me to them akin to sirens to desperate sailors looking for safe harbor. But unlike the sirens, Ms. Heathe had no ill intent. She was just a crazed little sex starved wrench.

On that day in question, I got a real up close and personal lesion on life, lust and sex. This was the last class of the day and when the 3 o’clock bell rang everyone got up out of their seats and bailed-everyone except me that was. I was the teacher’s pet. Her words not mine, mind you. I was a decent student with passing grades. Frankly, the only reason I was in an AP course was the letter of recommendation written by my sophomore English teacher Mrs. Madeline Johnson. She was a pretty hot number but I was a little too young to know if I wanted anything to do with girls, sexually or otherwise. I knew right away that she liked me, partly because she told me so but also due to her always eyeing me over her glasses. And years later I’d remember her after, whacking off to this hot brunette I saw wearing a button down dress shirt. It had clearly belonged to the man she was blowing. But I am diverting off course here.

Let’s back up quite a bit to the heated moment. And let me tell you it wasn’t from the weather outside. We could have been caught in the middle of a blizzard and I’d have to step outside to cool down. I had taken off my work shirt and left my t-shirt on and pulled off my work pants in favor of my thinner shorts. Sweat beaded down my face and my eyes squinted in response and widened as they watched her slowly march towards me. Her right index finger went into her mouth and she sucked on that digit passionately, all the time keeping her gaze fixed on me.

I took a deep breath held it in, steadying myself. I told myself this was it. I would become a man in this moment and be well on my way to engaging in future sexual encounters. But as fate would have it there came a known on the door. I pulled on my work shirt and pants and watched astonished by how quickly she made herself decent. She cracked the door open just wide enough for me to catch a glimpse of who was on the other side. It was Stephanie and I felt my heart race.

Unsure of her feelings for me, and not wanting to get Ms. Heathe in trouble I made myself scarce. Once she was gone Ms. Heathe signaled the all clear and I made my egress. As I closed the door behind me I heard her laugh and I am certain it was nothing bad about me. I caught up with Stephanie later at work. She came in the fast food joint all unkempt and teary eyed. Her eye liner streaked down her cheeks, taking on the appearance of a clown that had been told he was getting too old for the carnival circuit. If, of course, said clown could be as perfect and beautiful as she was.

   

I wasted no time and offered her a soda. My treat, I told her. It didn’t cost me anything but that wasn’t important. I asked the shift leader if I could take my break early and after a few moments of pressing, he agreed. We talked for the full duration of my respite and the only thing that derailed my one way train to pure bliss beneath the sheets was the shift leader, Ronnie, he was jealous of me and any other guy that got lucky. She made for the door and stopped and looked back at me over her shoulder. She smiled and waved as she disappeared out the door. From that moment on I knew she was mine; star quarterback be damned.

So started the ephemeral albeit mutually blissful and memorable love affair and I for one don’t regret one iota of what happened. She would meet me in the Hardees parking. Her parents had set a plan in motion, at least in their mind, that Steph and the star quarterback were destined to wed. This was the kind of thing you’d expect back in the middle ages when Kings and Queens ran the show and wanted to keep the royal bloodline pure and free of taint. Taint it may have been but it was mine and she craved the shit out of it.

The evening before it all went to shit was beautiful and magical if you like those sorts of things. My car had broken down and I was forced to ride shotgun. Not that I minded her fancy upscale late model mustang but I was and still am fonder of vintage cars. There was something about them that attracted me and kept me coming back much like women do if I were to be completely honest. Women and cars have and will always go hand in hand. And if anyone said otherwise they were either a fool or gay or both.

We drove up to Shawnee Reservoir. It was just after sunset and the sky overhead was a blackish violet and a scattering of stars shone down upon us like tiny pinpricks of light. There were a few fishermen across the water from us. We had parked farther down the drive and had taken seats on the hood of her stang. She stared up at the starry sky as I kept my gaze focused on her. Then slowly we worked ourselves closer together until I held her in my arms.

A slight breeze gusted up rustling fallen leaves and pushed the marginal chill from the water from the lake but I felt warm in her embrace and I’m sure she was too. Our hearts beat fast and steady as we locked lips and kissed clearly audible over the rush of the water cascading down over the cement boundary. And one thing led to another and before long I had relieved her beautiful body of its burden of clothes and bra revealing her soft milky white skin and perky breasts. Her pretty little pink nipples were cold and stiff much like my cock. She glanced down and smiled and reached her free hand down to my crotch and groped my manhood. "That's a man-boner my dear," I told her as if I was experienced in this sort of shit.

We turned up the volume on the car radio and a familiar and edgy take on sex and love blared to life. The Doors Love Me Two Times fueled the already livid fire of sexual tension between the two of us and as sexual creatures we responded. And respond we did multiple times. Such euphoric and passionate collisions of flesh on flesh and steamy sweat flowed down the naked skin of our bodies like the river Nile. I never in a million, million years could have imagined such pleasure than I did that night. Her breasts flapped and her breath filled my ears and my nostrils and her scent further intoxicated me.

I was no longer in control of my actions. Some things come naturally to a man and a woman and sexual intercourse was chief amongst them. So after the deed was done and we took a breather and enjoyed a post coitus cigarette we talked. Nothing important or too serious came up as we didn’t want to ruin such a precious and memorable occasion. It was her idea not mine and I just went with the flow. Going with punches and all that was my motto and still is. And the punches soon were a coming, believe you me.

The morning after the big night, where everything changed and nothing could be avoided, it happened. The moment that I am referring to is what almost happened with Mrs. Heathe. Still to this day I have no idea how she found out. I mean I wasn’t about to tell her that I was so close to banging quite possibly the hottest teacher in the school. Not to mention it was unsavory to kiss and tell. Second, she, being Ms. Heathe, wouldn’t risk jeopardizing her job not to mention her freedom. But I found out she did and boy was she pissed. Well, to say she was pissed would’ve been an understatement. The worst thing about this whole situation was losing her. And by her I mean Steph.

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Excerpt from my WIP Novel God Loathes You

   The evening before it all went to shit was beautiful and magical if you like those sorts of things. My car had broken down and I was forced to ride shotgun. Not that I minded her fancy upscale late model mustang but I was and still am fonder of vintage cars. There was something about them that attracted me and kept me coming back much like women do if I were to be completely honest. Women and cars have and will always go hand in hand. And if anyone said otherwise they were either a fool or gay or both.

We drove up to Lake Wiggins Mill Reservoir. It was just after sunset and the sky overhead was a blackish violet and a scattering of stars shone down upon us like tiny pinpricks of light. A few fishermen were downstream across the way from us. We had parked farther down the drive and had taken seats on the hood of her stang. She stared at the starry sky and I kept my gaze focused on her. Then slowly we worked ourselves closer together until I held her in my arms. A slight breeze gusted up rustling fallen leaves and pushed the marginal chill from the water from the lake but I felt warm in her embrace and I’m sure she was too. Our hearts beat fast and steady as we locked lips and kissed clearly audible over the rush of the water cascading down over the cement boundary. And one thing led to another and before long I had relieved her beautiful body of its burden of clothes and bra revealing her soft milky white skin and perky breasts. Her pretty little pink nipples were cold and stiff much like my cock. She glanced down and smiled and reached her free hand down to my crotch and groped my manhood. "That's a man-boner my dear," I told her as if I was experienced in this sort of shit.

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Confessions of a Broken Man

The snow storm had lasted for three days and all the roads were covered in fresh powder that crunched underfoot. As a result the search for Chris Honeywell had been called off. Most had written him off as dead and buried under freshly fallen snow. Larry still held hope that he would find the boy dead or alive. He doubted the boy was responsible for Heather’s untimely demise. His gut never led him astray and often served him quite well as a man of the law.

Owen Elroy had taken off work early. He had hoped to get an early start on Christmas shopping. He didn’t much care for the holidays. He had lost his parents and younger sister to a drunken driver one Christmas eve many years ago and often kept to himself during the more festive times of the year. And this time kept in solitude led him to the bottom of the bottle. That was until he met Kimberly Hales. She was his angel. She was a recent transplant from Barstow. Her aunt had invited her to stay with her.

The roads were clear and the shoulder was littered with piles of slush. And the sun was high in the sky bathing the surrounding area in golden showers of light and warmth. The power company had driven out in force making sure that power was restored. The fallen snow and subsequent ice had plagued the locals. Damaged power lines caused black outs in isolated neighborhoods all over the Ash.

The main roads were clear of ice and safe to drive on at the posted speed limit but side roads were still icy and slick forcing drives to move along at a snail’s crawl. Much like Owen was doing presently. His brand new Capri was shiny and candy apple red. Kim had remarked that the car’s color was festive and fit the Christmas spirit just fine. He merely nodded in agreement and faked a smile. She meant well and he tried damn hard to accommodate her. God knew how much crap she had to endure at his lowest points.

Outside a strong wind sprung to life and scattered loose dying leaves. Pale yellowish green and red similar to the out skin of peaches. If you listened closely enough you could hear the wind howl. The type of sound that caused the hairs on the back of your neck to stand on end and make you jump out of fright and cause goosebumps to form on your arms. Like what was happening to his arm now.

Deputy Elroy was a modest guy who lived well within his means. He wasn’t greedy. Quite the contrary in fact he was known to be very generous. Generosity was a trait he picked up out of necessity. His father had been a cruel and calculating man that mistrusted everyone including his children. When young Owen asked for money to buy a toy or just some spending cash it was met with harsh interrogation and suspicion.

His mother, Jeanette Elroy pleaded with his father, Ted Elroy, to quit being so harsh to the boy and was dealt with. Often being dealt with led to face slaps and back lashes with father’s dark leather belt with the heavy metal buckle decorated with a bright and shiny blue star. He was a Dallas Cowboy fan. The only time the two of them could be in the same room together without the boy being on the receiving end of beatings was when the Cowboys played on the tube.

One night the beatings had happened again and this time they were the worst they had ever been. So bad in fact that his mother’s jaw was dislocated and blood squirted out like string cheese only this was the color of blood. Scarlet syrup ran down her chin and made a streak across the front of her white flower blouse forming a tiny lake on the crotch of her blue jeans. Seeing this transpire he pushed back his fear and wiped away tears from his sore and swollen eyes bloodshot from lack of sleep and one too many crying sessions.

Now if you were thinking that the boy somehow mustered the courage and strength to confront his father and put him out of his misery you’d be mistaken. Instead he ran to his sister’s room still sound asleep and helped her out of bed. His mother rushed in with her purse flopping on her stained shoulder like a catfish out of water having been dropped by a fisherman’s clumsy butterfingers.

They had reached the garage and stopped. Back in the house angry shouts full of profanity and threats of bodily harm echoed out to greet them. The winter’s cold and icy win blew and chilled the bone. And there was no sound but his father’s loud and scary screams and his mother’s keys clanking against the driver’s side of the old dull gray Cadillac. Her hands trembled uncontrollably more out of fear than cold.

Jeanette took a deep breath and got the key into hole and with one swift motion opened the door and got her two children inside and backed out of the garage. The half-opened garage door tore right off its rails. The sound of tearing metal filled their ears and sounded like terrible claws scratching at your front door. Ted appeared just as the taillights vanished around the corner. His face was flushed with fury and eyes bloodshot from hours of drinking and his yellow-stained teeth chatted as he gnawed on the tip of his tongue.

Early the following morning was Christmas day and they had gone to Aunt Joann’s place. She was Jeanette’s sister-in-law but their bond was stronger than anything sisters connected by blood could ever have. was a strong and stubborn lady. Aunt Jo also worked at the sheriff’s office. So Owen felt safe and put all thoughts of his father making true on his threats. He spent the day with his mother, aunt and younger sister, Cate. The day was mostly uneventful and was peaceful.

Then night fell over the Ash and as many bad things tend to happen only when the sun has gone down. The worst fear of darkness was its quiet. The type of quiet that told you no help was coming. That you were all alone and the monsters of your imagination were real. And it spoke soundless words that filled your mind and said death was coming for you.

The only monster that little Owen feared at that point in time was of flesh and blood and was very real. His father was a towering giant standing at over six foot five inches and his meaty arms flapped like over blubber of a humpback whale only this was pinkish color and hairy. Ted Elroy’s hair was wild and stood on end shaped in a weird crown. The man’s eyes were sullen and a milky gray. His mouth was pursed and drool spilled over his lips. His footfalls were steady and made loud audible thuds as he drew closer to the house.

Joann saw him coming before she heard him. Out of instinct she gathered Owen and Cate and took them to her bedroom closet and made them promise not to leave there no matter what and they did. She then went to wake Jeanette but before she could reach the spare bedroom it happened. Ted lunged at her and the coffee table was smashed as he smashed into her body and together they fell to the floor. At first Joann had the upper hand and kept him at bay shouting at the top of her lungs for them to run for their lives.

Ted grew angrier by the minute and lashed out tearing the flesh from her arms. She screamed out in pain and lost her grip and he broke free. Standing over her his empty milky gray eyes were more like a hungry and rabid animal crazed and starved. The still wet saliva coursed down over his lip to the front of his shirt. It glistened in the faint red and green Christmas lighting. Strange how the Christmas tree and the TV and couch remained untouched but the coffee table was crushed and reduced to kindling.

His breathing was shallow and he snarled. The good man that was once her loving brother existed no more. Killed and replaced by something she no longer recognized. What you saw on the outside was a mere shell of the man he used to be. Ted had become a demon incarnate. Only this demon was mortal having taken human form. Before she could process the next chain of thought her mind quieted.

What would happen next was described as unmentionably horrible and too gruesome for words. The mortal beast that was Ted Elroy had dragged his estranged wife kicking and screaming down Elm Street and tied her hands and feet and drove a stake tethered to a harpoon up her vagina. After he violated her he tossed the slack end of the rope over a low hanging branch. After he checked the rope and was confident it would serve his purpose he picked her up and tossed her limp body over his left shoulder and walked to the tree. He tossed her over the branch and sure enough the rope held despite Jeanette’s body’s dead weight.

If that had been the worst of what happened then it would have left with her with a smidgen of respect. But this demon was not happy merely in killing her. Oh no, death would not give her release from his cruel treatment it was just the beginning. He left the broken bloody corpse of his wife and started back to the house.

The radio crackled and a voice filled the squad car and shook him free of his trip down memory lane. Again the voice spoke. This time the voice took on a hint of familiarity and form. “Elroy come in this is dispatch,” the mechanical voice shouted.

Momentary startled his mind snapped free of the hold of the past and he grabbed the handie-talkie and pressing the button down on the side and spoke. ”Hey this is Elroy over,” remembering to keep professional. Auntie Jo made sure to engrain that rule from the first time he donned the uniform.

“Get over to 1420 Elwood Street. There was a report about a man fitting Chris Honeywell’s description prowling around in the woods, over.”

“Roger that dispatch. On my way,” he added.

Twenty minutes later Deputy Elroy parallel parked his squad car along the curb on the south side of Sunset Park and pulled on his heavy jacket. His eyes peered out and across the park and saw no one. The park was deserted and resembled a cake with white frosting. Some sticks and stray weeds and blades of grass popped up of the crust of the cake like unlit birthday candles. The swings coated with snow and ice were themed decorations to top off the cake metaphor. Owen smiled at this thought and let it linger. He relished in moments like these. As quick as it had come it was gone. A voice surfaced at the back of his mind and he shuttered. For he and the voice were well acquainted had been since that night. The broken and formless voice was doubt and held sway over his emotional state. And the voice was bitter and reminded him how weak he was and no matter how hard he tried he’d never change.

Another voice entered his mind and this one bought warmth and reassurance and hope. Hope was something he had given up on ever-since his mother had passed on. Still her love persisted in him and he built a special place for it in his heart. He called it his Hall of Hope. It was the one place he could escape to when in trouble.

The two voices danced around the battlefield in his mind and glared at the other. He could feel the warmth of his mother’s love and the frigid cold of his doubt tugging away at his soul. One second all the warmth of his body was drained like a candle being snuffed out in a fierce wind. And the next his body felt reanimated as if he had come back to life. On and on this went until warmth took hold and pushed back the vile serpent that was his doubt. The battle for his soul lasted mere moments but felt longer.

Outside the cold air rushed up to greet him. He pulled his jacket closer about him and locked his door and headed in the direction of the woods. He glanced once over his shoulder back in the direction he had come thinking he had heard something. But after realizing nothing was there he pushed on feeling foolish for jumping at shadows. The voice from his hall of hope spoke to him and reminded him the beast from his past was long gone.

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New Blog! New Year!

I just want to take the time to say Happy New Years to all of those people out there that like and support me and best wishes for the coming year! Peace and love.


 Michael Fenn Author


P.S.

So here's to hoping that 2014 is a lot better than the previous year that has passed! And I promise to post more regularly when time permits.

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