Saturday, May 27, 2017

Write What You Know, Part 28

Original Preamble

This is my first draft for NaNoWriMo 2016 novel Write What You Know. It's only a rough draft with very minimal editing and will, more than likely, contain, typos, grammatical errors, plot holes, or conflicting descriptions. It also includes notes to myself and excerpts from the novel the MC is writing that I try to indicate through various formatting that doesn't always translate well with my limited html skills. Furthermore, this particular novel is... there's no delicate way to put this... this novel is fucked up. So, especially in this rough draft crazed sort of NaNoWriMo way of writing, it may be difficult to read or follow.  I'm still posting it here because I want to shed more light on the process of writing to encourage and inspire other writers or readers who are interested. To learn more about this project, or my daily NaNoWriMo postings, please read Day 1-7.

Additional Preamble

NaNoWriMo 2016 ended 6 months ago and I never finished releasing my rough draft, for various reason but chiefly that I was without internet service on my computer for three of those months. I've debated a lot about re-establishing these postings mostly because I don't really think there were readers waiting with baited breath for the rest of this hunk of junk rough ass draft. But then I remembered that the point of me doing this isn't for the number of readers but to inspire and to finish things. The internet is forever right? Even if it means nothing now, some internet archaeologist could dig this up 200 years from and say . . . I don't know something. Or maybe there's that one other person out there right now and this is exactly what they need. Like Feida Kahlo said:
       --I used to think I was the strangest person in the world but then I thought there are so many people in the world there must be someone just like me who feels bizarre...I hope that you are out there and you read this and know that yes it's true I'm here and I'm just as strange as you.-- (Wikiquote)
This is for you, other weirdos.

Write What You Know, Part 28
By Stephanie Thompson,  1, 818 words

Read: Part 1Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16, Part 17, Part 18, Part 19, Part 20, Part 21, Part 22, Part 23, Part 24, Part 25, Part 26, Part 27

Cassandra did not take long to find Helen at all. It was the fastest she’d ever been found. It was the fire, to bright to hide in.
YOu have been a very, very bad girl.
I haven’t. I haven’t done anything.
No, I don’t have the time or patience for the innocent act now. Don’t you see, my plan is almost to fruition now anyway and you’ve yet to stop. Even hiding the money even ditching the phone. That by the way, was very, very clever. Smarter than you’ve been in a long time.  I don't’ even know how you did it but I don’t think it worked the way you wanted it too. It led the cops straight to her. Made front page news, It actually helped because it’s only a matter of time before they rip her reputation to shreds. Before the truth comes out. Before her house of normal cards falls apart and she’s right back where she deserves to be, fucking nothing at all.
I didn’t do that, I didn’t do anything.
Stop fucking lying to me.  You’re not any good at it. Where the fuck is my money? Where’s my purse?
I didn’t do it. I didn’t do anything.
Oh, I see, you think I still need you. That I can’t exist without you. You some how believe that you’re the core and if I snuff you out we both go out like a candle. That we’ll be just an empty shell and rot away in a hotel without doing any more harm to anyone.
She sat on the bed staring intently at the soiled linens. Flames licked up all around them. She said nothing because it didn’t matter what she said. Cassandra always thought and did what she wanted with little to no input from Helen.
You’re at my mercy. You know that right? I mean, I didn’t think you were that stupid? Do you think I’d be able to get anything done if you were the core, if you could reassert yourself at any time. I keep you around for the boring stuff. You’re perfectly useless otherwise. I could snuff you out right now and it would make no difference. You make no difference.
I know where the money is.
It wasn’t a threat or a boast it wasn’t said with any confidence at all. It gave no pleasure to have whatever power that it might have given her. It was merely the truth plain and simple.
You fucking meek worthless shit.
She put her hands around Helen’s throat and squeezed. She put up no resistance. Not physical anyway. She looked up to meet Cassie’s eye. That was the only physical action that showed that anything was different. She didn’t pull at her hands or even make choking sounds. She just stared back at her.
The whole room was on fire. The floor the walls. The ceiling. Cassandra was stand in the thick of. She was inside the fire. Helen only wished they could burn at all.

Jennifer took her pills with a bottle of wine that night. What was she surviving for anyway?

Fine. Don’t fucking tell me where it is. I can finish this without the money without a phone without anything. That’s how I got here in the first place.
Cassandra went back to the real world and left Helen to cry in the burning house alone. It was what she was best at after all. 

They said good bye on the street outside the cafe where they’d spent most of the afternoon. Christie kissed Cassandra on the cheek. There was no warmth or reciprocation from her her at all. The only gesture made was to briefly move her fingers up her wrist, almost like it was an accidentally brush of her fingers even though Christie didn’t that’s what it was at all.
“You kept it,” Cassandra said. 
Christie wasn’t expecting that. She didn’t even know what she was talking about at first. She pulled back from the embrace and looked at her wrist. 
“Of course. OF course, I kept it. It was a gift from the woman I love.”
“I just thought that you would have gotten rid of it. It was worth a lot of money, I’m sure you could have used the cash.”
It was the gentlest Cassandra had spoken to her all day.
“No, of course not,” she lied.
And Cassandra knew it. She didn’t know exactly how or in what way she was lying but she was.
“You’re so sweet,” she said. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for what I did to you. To us.” Cassandra could lie too.
“No don’t. . .” She started then changed her mind. “I never blamed you. I just wanted you to get better.”
“Good bye, Jen, “ Cassandra said. 
Then she turned and left. She walked into the crowd and disappeared even though she had been watching her. Christie didn’t leave. She stayed too long in that one spot.She didn’t want her too leave but she couldn’t chase her down and she couldn’t go back to where ever she had been going in the first place before getting waylaid by the past. She was stuck there knowing that something was wrong but she didn’t know what. Maybe it was the incredible sadness in her heart. She’d spent all day lying to the love of her life when what she’d wanted to do was take her home, wrap her up in her arms stay like that forever and ever. The way they used to talk about. They way they used to lay together in their starter apartment. The way it had happened in the hospital. But instead she’d lied and she knew, despite everything, despite the phone and the conversation of the day, despite the love still being in her heart at least, she knew she’d never see her again. And all she’d done was lie.

The little tree they put up in the postage stamp living room looked sad and pathetic. It’s dry needles scratched up her arms and it’s pine aroma sickened her.
“This is so stupid, Danny. Why are we doing this?”
You couldn’t get the smile off his face today. Even elbow deep in the stupid scratchy tree wrapping it up in lights.
“It’s Christmas, Nikki.” 
“We’re not kids, Dracon.” He was still smiling. “Well, I’m not anyway. This is isn’t a tv special. The days aren’t cozy and bright. It’s dark it’s grey it’s fucking cold and we haven’t been good this ear. Santa isn’t going to bring us presents.”
“C’mon it isn’t about that. I’m not naive and delude about the season just like I’m not deluded about you. I know you don’t get it but . . . Christmas is about love.”
“It’s abso-fucking-lutely not,” she said.
“Nikki, it is. It’s the time of year when you hold the ones a love a little closer against the night, against the cold.” He plugged the lights in and came over to her. He put his arm around her waist. “Where magic comes from a few extra lights and mugs of warm drinks. And you get a chance to show that person you love some extra love too.”
Nikki for once didn’t argue. She wasn’t buying it either but the sentiment was nice and it was sweet. It was better than nice and sweet actually, it was genuine. Then suddenly that stupid tree didn’t look so stupid. It was just a tree with lights but it was also something more. It was something from Danny to her. He had given Nikki Christmas. And while it didn’t mean much to her, it meant a lot to him, which meant a lot to her.
“So, are there decorations now or something?”

Detective Riley sat in an unmarked car with tinted windows and read on is Kindle. 
The house where Christie was staying now was on a quite street in a quiet borough (How does NYC work anyway?). Most of the time he was the only movement on the street and that was only to swipe left for the next page in his book in which he was so engrossed that he basically forgot he was in an unsanctioned stakeout.
A parade marching band could walk up this street, right next to his car and he wouldn’t have noticed. It wasn’t just that ‘NRaged was so good it overrode all of his cop training and instincts or the alertness that several red Bulls and a venti coffee brought but because it was the key he’d been looking for. The key to understand the case. Christie was right. She did know something. Every Ripper victim, even from the other cities were showing up in this book. 

She went off script again. She had to. Thanks to Helen things were escalating faster than she expected. She out in the day again and she still hated it. She went back to the library and waited for what’s his face to show up again. She watched his boring ass all day. She followed him to the cafe where he worked but she didn’t go in this time. She leaned against the building across the street and watched him work from the outside. It was so brightly it it wasn’t even difficult.
People passed her all night long and didn’t notice her. No one noticed her. It was something she noticed early on. She didn’t know why, they noticed her when she wanted to be notice but on the whole people walked passed her, lost her in a crowd, forgot she was there very easily. What else could she do but use it to her advantage. So he didn’t see her either.
He didn’t see her watching him. He didn’t see her waiting for him behind the restaurant. He didn’t see or hear her when she grabbed him by the dumpsters just after the store closed. He didn’t see her after she’d already caved the back of his skull. He was on the ground then, she on top of him and he had no choice but to look at him.
“You, you,” he said or tried to say. “You were nice.”
“We’re all someone else underneath. We are all liars on top and someone else underneath.”
She choked this one. She was very off script but he was like the last one. She needed to kill him but didn’t really wanted to. She was being forced to do it. Jennifer made her do it. It was Jennifer’s fault.

“It’s all her fault,” she said, banging his head against the cement with each word.

Thanks for reading!