Sunday, August 31, 2014

Can I Target Practice On Your Green Man?

Can I Target Practice On Your ... Green Man?
By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee


I have a wooden green man nailed up at the shed where we park our cars. I love that ... green man.

He can bend his arms, knees, ankles ... well, I would have to bend them for him.

He can sit in a chair ... one could sit a flower pot, or ... yourself in his lap.

That's all I can think of that he 'can do'. Oh, he's just 'hanging around', now. I saw my green man some years ago ... at a yard sale.

Yesterday, our friend walked over, sat down at the picnic table. He caught sight of my green man.

What in the world is that, Gloria? That's my green man! What is your green man for? I told him. He didn't say anything, until ... today.

He called Skip. "Hey, Skip, ask Gloria if I can come over, target practice on her green man?"


Photo Credit/Story is owned by me, Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka &grannygee

This is a true story ... every man that sees my green man ... wants to target practice with it! No!

Friday, August 29, 2014

Sleep ... To Visit The AfterLife

Sleep ... To Visit The Afterlife
By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee

Tommy, and his beautiful little son, Taban ... a very special child in my Heart ........

Walking down the dark road, I saw headlights coming toward me. Run! Run! I began to run until I came to a place that bushes weren't covering the rail fence. I climbed over it quickly.

I saw my friend, Ms Nancy, who had somehow separated from me. She held her hand out to reach for mine. I grabbed it. Come! She pulled me behind her ... we ran fast. Danger! Danger!

We ran to a forest. She must have known the way, because soon ... we were safe, it was okay to get my breath. Somebody wants to kill me. Why?
In this dream, I was constantly running away from danger. I never knew 'who, where' the danger was coming from.

Suppose I was living in the afterlife in my dream ... that wouldn't be good. I don't the afterlife would be bad ... maybe I went to Hell in that dream ... mmm-mmmm.

I dream in color. I can't imagine dreaming in black and white, or in gray. I hear people say that's all they dream in. Boring ...

I love colors ... I follow colors ... sometimes, they can get me ... in trouble. Well ... not real trouble. :) But, I may forget where I am, follow without looking where I'm going. I could wander off ... leave everyone behind. :)

Sometimes, when I dream I see Tommy. Tommy, my son who died May 29, 2010 on the shore at Myrtle Beach, SC. He'd been running, playing for the first ... last time with his little three year old son at the beach. He'd been looking forward to doing ... just that.

I remember his face telling me he was going to play with Taban at the beach. I remember his eyes telling me. I remember looking at him while he spoke. He had a glow about him ... the sunshine glow that happened each, every time he smiled.

He had the biggest smile on his face. Going to the beach to play for the first time ever with his little son ... was very important to him. That moment forever ... stayed one of my last memories of my son.
This was the evening before ... he collapsed while playing with Taban.

Thank-God, he did what he was truly wanting to do ... Taban can grow up knowing how special he was to his father. Also, at Tommy's last moments ... he was sending me some photos of Taban just before ... the phone fell out of his hand.

The thought came to me that suppose when we slept, we lived in another dimension ... the afterlife? I don't think we do because of all the crazy dreams we have at times.

Suppose ... the 'bad' dreams meant we visited ... Hell? The 'good' dreams ... meant we went to ... Heaven?

Wouldn't it be nice to have both options ... to sleep to visit our loved ones. Wake up to be in this world ... and when our bodies finally gave out on us ... we could choose to sleep forever, be home in the afterlife with our loved ones.

Oh, if one were tough enough ... choose to go to Hell, to visit someone? Mmmm-mmmm .....

Thursday, August 28, 2014

I Have Stopped Drinking Diet Soda As Of ... Twenty Minutes Ago!

I Have Stopped Drinking Diet Sodas As Of ... Twenty Minutes Ago!
By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee

                                            Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee ...


This morning, I was sitting here, watching The Doctors. Something I saw on there ... finally convinced me to make a decision. I can let go, easily

No, I won't do it again, unless ... it's the only thing around. Then, I will decide how long it'll be to get to something else. If it will be a long time, I will do it.

What is 'it', do you ask? Well ... drink diet soda! Oh, my! How many times, have I heard over, and over ... what diet soda can do to one? How many times ... does it take to finally ... hear?

I guess it takes a certain voice, a visual image, a fact you never heard before ... this morning, one fact stood out to me. That was diet soda could help to bring on a cardiac event.

I don't need that. I have a heart condition that I was left with ... after my chemotherapy sessions some years ago. The drug, adriamycin ... was the culprit. How can I say 'culprit', when it was one of the drugs that helped to save my life?

I went into congestive heart failure, almost died. I didn't know I was in the world ... until I came back, smiling at the doctor I was looking up at. I remember that night ... I smiled all night long ... I was so happy to be alive!

So, I don't need a ... cardiac event. I know what that's like. It 'can take you away from here'.

I don't need teeth to turn yellow, look like teeth on someone who does a drug called crack. I didn't realize that!

I am aging okay 'now' ... that I've learned to cope with my son's death. I don't need ... the extra aging diet sodas cause over time. I'm doing 'good enough' ... on my own!

I don't need the extra weight that drinking diet sodas cause over time. So, I will work on that, 'now'!

They used a make-up artist on The Doctors, to make up a young woman to show her how she could become in years later from drinking diet sodas. Oh, my God!

So ... I'm not trying to tell you what to do (because I love diet sodas, also!) ... I am telling you what I'm going to do! I have stopped drinking diet sodas ... as of twenty minutes ago!


Photo/Story Credit is owned by me, Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee.

Note by this author:

I stopped drinking diet soda for a time in the past .... well, I began drinking it again. I think I was addicted to it! It 'pulled' me back to drinking it. It really is 'too good'....

Wednesday, August 27, 2014

It Takes A Stranger To ... Bring Tommy Back

It Takes A Stranger To ... Bring Tommy Back
By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee

I sit waiting, as I do ... I people watch
I've always done such ... now, I watch for someone special

Strangers laughing, talking ... going their way
To where, I do not know

I watch with a soft smile on my lips
I love to see life moving along in harmony

Oh! I see what I've been waiting to see!
I raise up off my seat to be sure not to miss a thing

The sunshine turns into a spotlight, the world becomes a stage
I watch the main character walk into view

I catch my breath in my throat ... it's him!
Hair of gold ... smile as bright as the sunshine

Walking tall, good posture ... like a gentle giant
He never notices me, nor senses my reaction

I'm standing, don't remember when I stood
Warm tears flow down my cheeks ...

I smile, relax ... sit back down
I'm so happy to see the stranger, whose name I don't know

Who played the part of my son, Tommy
The main character, brought him alive to me ... for a few moments

I sit, think ... I wonder who, when ... someone will do this again
Play the part of my son ... bring back alive so, I can 'see him'

See him come alive if just for a few moments
Walk, talk, smile ... laugh

How do I not know ... it isn't really Tommy
Come back for a moment or two ... to ease my grieving Heart?

To make his mother smile through her tears
A stranger ... making Tommy come alive for a moment, or two

I can't watch my grandson grow up, who looks like his father
I have to watch a stranger who stars in a ... Tommy show

It takes a stranger to bring Tommy back, so ... I can see someone look like him
When I should be seeing his son grow up ... like his father did

I should be watching my grandson through the years ahead
Seeing 'how like' ... Tommy, he is

Seeing if he grows as tall as Tommy, combs his hair like Tommy
If he walks, sits in perfect posture as his father did

Hear his soft voice, laugh ... watch his mannerisms
I should see my son through my grandson ... it takes a stranger to bring Tommy back

Photo/Story Credit belongs, owned by me, Gloria Faye Brown Bates. Photo is of Tommy, my son, holding his only son, Taban.

Tuesday, August 26, 2014

I Had Lost My ... Self

I Had Lost My ... Self
By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee

I found 'myself' for a moment here ... in the mirror.  See my happy smile!  Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee


Well ... I'm a middle-aged woman. It came sooner than I knew. Of course, there have been at least six to ten years in my life of life-threatening illness, and the loss of my son ... that numbed me to life.

So, I don't count those years in my age. That's right ... it's not fair to add those years to my age ... I don't remember living them. Isn't it amazing to be ... so, in another world, you can't remember life?

That means things in life were so ... bad. Fighting a battle to live from disease, illness... fighting a battle to live when one of your most loved ones ... dies ... your very own child.

There's no way you can imagine such, if you ... yourself, have never experienced it. You might say you do, because 'so and so' in my family is sick, or going through such. There's no way you know ... unless 'it's you' ... who go through it all.

Can you imagine 'waking up one day' ... to 'look for yourself'? This would sound strange to you if you've ... never done it. Imagine being in a coma ... you know nothing for months, years ... you wake up to life ... and you begin living it ... becoming aware of life again.

You become interested in being a person again ... you look in the mirror ... you don't 'know the person in the mirror'. You begin to 'look for yourself' in the mirror each time you go to it.

Once in a while, you might 'see a hint of the self ... you remember'. Oh, what a wonderful feeling that is! 'There's you'!

I've done this twice in my entire life. It's unlike anything I've ever experienced. I would run, grab my smartphone ... take a photo of 'me'! The sad thing is ... sometimes, 'me' disappeared before I could get the photo.

Then, I would see a person in the mirror ... I didn't recognize. I had lost 'my ... self'.

One Doesn't Have To Do Anything ... In Darkness

One Doesn't Have To Do Anything ... In Darkness
By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee

Darkness ... soft darkness. Mama! Mama, please tuck the blanket around my ears like you did when I was a little girl.

Yes, I ate something. Hearing Skip's voice asking me had I eaten while he was at work. I didn't know if I had or not ... I didn't know anything... it didn't matter. Yes, was my answer.

So cold, I need more blankets. Turn the air-conditioner off. I shivered under my thick layer of blankets in ... 100 degree heat.

Itching ... in the soft darkness, I constantly itched. I'm not sure if I scratched or not. I wasn't aware ... these were symptons of ... cancer ... non-Hodgkins lymphoma.

I got up out of the darkness, to shower. Time to go to get chemotherapy. I was dressing ... having a hard time doing so. Very weak, could hardly stand. I was still ... independent ... I'd do it myself. It was my will ... to fight.

Skip walked into bedroom. His expression changed ... I'd never seen such shock on his face as I did that day. It reached me in the state I was in.

I looked at him, asked what was wrong. I knew it had to do with me. I had lost so much weight in a short time (another symptom of cancer) ... of course, I didn't know it, I was too sick. I wore loose-fitting gowns, so ... he hadn't noticed.

In just weeks, I had lost probably fifty pounds, and I was ... thin. I had wanted to lose weight 'before' ... at this time, I didn't think about it. Weight ... what is weight? It's unimportant ...

I am alone in the house ... I wanted to get up, go outside in the sunshine. Holding on to the wall, door ... managed to get to back door.

Hard to open the door, my hands are like ... rubber ... from the chemotherapy drugs. I don't consciously think of this at that time. I wanted to go outside ...

Standing on the back porch ... the sunshine blinded me. My eyes are blurred ... tears fill them. I can't see well through the medicinal fog I was in. I saw my hoe near the porch ... I loved to plant flowers.

I wanted to hold the hoe in my hands. I made my way to the edge of the porch, my hands reach out to get the hoe. Oh my ... oh! The hoe felt awful in my hands! It felt ... alien. I couldn't bear to hold the handle ... it ... hurt. I let go of it.

My hands had become weaken, so 'unused' to holding things. I couldn't hold any weight. Things felt ... rough to my very smooth hands. They weren't used to doing anything ... one doesn't have to do anything ... in darkness.


Photo/Story Credit: are owned by Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee.

All I wrote here, is true. I was trying to give you an idea of being near death ... not conscious of it ... the darkness ... awareness of things once taken for granted ... the strangeness, later (the hoe).

I shared just a few conscious moments in time when I was very sick, fighting my battle to live from cancer. My battle lasted over three years. I thought it was the worse thing I'd ever had to live through in my life ... until ... my son, Tommy, died.

I know what it's like to live in darkness ... there's nothing to do there ... but, 'be'.  By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee

Sometimes ... Pretty Can Be Dangerous!


Sometimes ... Pretty Can Be Dangerous!
By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee


Don't pee in the pool ... if you are an adult. Don't turn the pool into a ... bathroom.

Public pools can be dangerous. Don't go in if you have diarhhea; don't change diapers near the pool. Bacteria ... is all over the place at public swimming pools! Ecoli bacteria ...

Chlorine doesn't always take care of bacteria ... just because it smells strong, doesn't mean it's ... killing everything.

Have you ever seen the water turn ... yellow, around someone? Or see ... a t___ floating in the water? Oh, my God ... I haven't, but... I've seen 'people t___s' in the water. Obnoxious people ...

Pools are overcrowded, and if each person peed in the water ... and they really do ... you are swimming in ... p___! A cesspool that ... looks pretty! It's the truth ... maybe a little harsh ... but, true ... nevertheless.

Some pool water has a chemical in that turns blue ... if someone pees in the water. Mmmmm-mmm ... all blue water ...

It's like getting into a hot tub ... people sit there drinking, do all kinds of things in the water. It looks bubbly, pretty ... inviting. Sometimes ... pretty can be dangerous. :)

Photo/Story Credit... are owned by me... Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee.

One could go on, and on about the dangers in a swimming pool. We all have a mind ... all we have to do is think about what we, as humans ... can put in the pool. These days ... there can be more in the pool water, around the pool ... than just 'pretty'...





Monday, August 25, 2014

His Ears Were Backwards!

His Ears Were Backwards!
By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee


Years ago, we used to have Doberman Pinchers. We had a beautiful puppy named Chadwick. He was a blue, and tan doberman pincher.

We took him to our vet who was an elderly man. He was also, a senator. We thought the world of him. We took our little blue doberman pincher to him ... to do his ears.

The day came, we took Chadwick to get the procedure done. That evening we came back to get him. Little Chadwick's ears were taped up in white tape. We took him home to heal.

Over time, we begin to notice something. Chadwick's ears were done ... backwards! No one else seemed to notice, but ... us.

He was beautiful ... and his 'backwards' ears never bothered us. We never mentioned it to the vet; nor did he ... to us!

A Skin Infection Can Cost You ... Your Life!

A Skin Infection Can Cost You ... Your Life!
By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/Granny Gee

Skip's arm ... I didn't take photo of the tiny wound on the inside of his elbow ... it was closed, 'healed' up.  Photos owned by me, Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee.



A little cut hurts, bleeds a little. You don't take time to wash it with soap, water ... put something on it.

An old wire fence needs to be moved ... you reach for it, pull it ... a piece of old, rusty wire sticks into your skin. It hurts, it bleeds a little ... you forget about it.

It's just another break in the skin ... right? You don't remember what you've always been told ... if you get a cut on your skin, wash it good with soap, water. It's just ... too much trouble!

Your skin begins to redden around the tiny wound ... you see it, but ... you don't become concerned. It might be a little ... infected. You run to put alcohol on it, then ... maybe antibiotic. It'll get well.

The third day, the redness has spread, widening out all the way around the wound. It feels hot ... mmm-mmm ...... you feel a little more concern.

You go on to forget it once again. You notice some swelling ... the wound is on the inside of your ... elbow. You know how it is ... you don't have time to think about it. It'll get well ... in time.

You just don't know ... that your life is in ... danger. Yes, for-real ... in mortal danger. You could very well die ... you are waiting too long to get medical attention.

The fourth day ... the swelling in your arm is three times bigger .. the redness has become 'huge' ... your arm is ... huge! Your skin has a fever ... you have a fever. You are becoming confused, feel very sick ... want to throw up.

Four days is too long to wait to get medical attention ... that's what happened to Skip, my husband.

Skip suffered all day at work, driving, shifting gears on a big truck. That evening, he came home ... I took one look at his arm, told him to let's go, he was going to the Emergency Room. No one could believe he worked the whole day with his arm ... like that!

Minute by minute, Skip was becoming sicker ... by the time he was taken to a bed in the ER, he was confused. The doctor ordered blood drawn ... then, began antibiotics by IV. He was given injections.

Skip's fever was very high ... not only that, his blood pressure had shot through the roof!

The doctor told Skip that he almost waited too long ... he could have let it go too far ... sepsis ... he could have ... died. One thing that was 'good' ... there was nothing to 'cut' ... to drain out infection.

Not only that ... if he didn't die, he could lose his arm. Skip stayed in the hospital five days on IVs with antibiotics.

He was given injections in his stomach to keep blood clots from forming. For two days, Skip didn't know what was going on ... excepting his arm hurt very bad. His fever raged, his blood pressure soared.

Thankfully, Skip recovered. When he came home, he was still very weak, not feeling well. It took another week to begin to feel better. He took oral antibiotics for a week ... at home.

All of this happened because the wound wasn't washed out good. The nurse said to even 'squeeze' a wound just a little ... to let it bleed, to be safe.

It was 'too much trouble' to go wash the injured area out. It wasn't a 'big' ... thing. You could hardly see where the wire stuck. You get little cuts, nicks like that 'all your life'. Nothing ever ... happened.

We never know how we 'flirt with death, every time we get a little nick, cut. We 'open' ourselves up to infections ... fatal infections. Who would have thought? You don't think ... until ... it's you.

Our lives are very fragile ... sometimes, we don't realize that until ... it's almost too late ... or ... too late.

Just remember from Skip's experience ... he is lucky to be here. A skin infection can cost you ... your life.

Photo Credit is mine.  Photos are of Skip's arm, story is written by me.  Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee

Sunday, August 24, 2014

Victoria Learns To Walk Where The Devil Wouldn't ... Tread

Victoria Learns To Walk Where The Devil Wouldn't ... Tread
By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee

Victoria's world came crashing down around her at the age of nine.  Before ... she lived like a little princess.  She wore expensive dresses trimmed in the finest laces.  Her shoes were of leather, with ruffled socks.  She was the prettiest little girl around.  She could sit on her hair.

Big bugs were crawling on the cabinet.  Victoria wanted to get a glass to get water from the dirty kitchen sink.  Her grandma was paralyzed ... she couldn't get the glass for her.  Victoria's grandfather was blind ... he was outside, hanging out the wash.

Victoria's little face looked as if she were going to cry.  Her little forehead was wrinkled up, eyes full of fear.  She reached out gingerly to pull the knob on the glass door on the old, white cabinet.

Screaming for her life, Victoria began dancing around!  She was hitting her chest, shaking her dress.  A big roach had fell into the neckline of her dress.  Victoria went to pieces. 

Victoria, come here!  Her grandma was calling her.  Victoria ran into her grandma's sitting room.   Help me, grandma!  Her grandma's good hand began feeling Victoria's dress for the big bug.

It's okay now, it's okay.  Victoria began to calm down.  She'd never seen bugs inside the house.  Grandma's kitchen was full of them.  She shivered, thinking about them.

Victoria had to go to the bathroom.  That meant traveling through the bug-ridden kitchen, opening the back door to go out on the back porch!  Victoria was afraid of everything here in this new world.  She had heard something moving on the back porch the last time she went to the bathroom.

Victoria walked quietly into the kitchen.  Her eyes were darting here, there for ... danger.  She walked to the door... hated to put her hand on the dirty door knob.  It was smeared with grease from this morning's cooking.  George couldn't see that he had grease on his hands, when he cooked grandma's breakfast. 

Anyone looking at the pretty, little girl ... would have felt so sorry for her.  At every corner she turned in this new world ... she felt fear.  She didn't know how to react to the ugliness, the filth of her new world.  She wasn't old enough to realize that her grandma, grandpa did the very best they could.  She could only see, hear what affected this new life of hers.

Little Victoria's mother, step-father had separated.  Her mother had dumped her off at her parents' house.  She never told Victoria anything to prepare her for the horrors that awaited her. 

Little Victoria had gone to Hell without knowing it.  She would begin to fight to survive ... first though, she had to learn to toughen up without knowing ... what was happening.

The house she was living in, sat over the portal of Hell.  Her grandma, and grandfather tried to keep the demons away.  It didn't work all the time ... because hell would break out from time to time.

Victoria's grandfather tried to keep the house clean.  He was blind.  Imagine closing your eyes for a day, not being able to see.  Imagine cooking, feeling the hot pans, the stove eyes they cooked on.

Imagine, taking a dishcloth to wash the stove off after cooking.  Wash off the dining table ... the white kitchen sink.  Through time, filth gathered on everything. 

Everyday ... new streaks were added from the dish cloth.  Her grandfather couldn't see how he washed the dirty surfaces ... only to further make them worse.

The bathroom on the back porch was worse.  Little Victoria had never seen such in her life.  She had a hard time adjusting.  It seemed she was cringing always, trying to not touch this, not touch that. 

Victoria learned to cry ... a lot.  She was too young to know how to make things better ... she had always known a clean home, a lady who came in to care for her, cook meals, iron while her mother, step-father went to work.

She began to learn there was more than filth, bugs, big rats here in her new home.  Frequent fights broke out ... all in the middle of her grandmother's sitting room, where she had to sit in her chair.  Her grandma sat many hours in her chair ... whatever happened in front of her ... she had to put up with. 

She couldn't stop the bad things that happened ... she had to watch.
Victoria was mistreated by her six cousins who lived close by.  They laughed at her, made fun of her.  It seemed no one loved her.  She was always in the way. 

Little by little, Victoria began to learn she had to fight battles if she was going to live in this world.  It didn't matter she didn't want to fight ... hurt anyone.  She had to toughen up.

Victoria began to realize she had some strange powers.  She was too young to use, or understand them.  She seemed to get things done, if she ... set her mind to them.  She could win a fight ... if she wanted to hurt someone ... or worse. 

If one looked at Victoria when she was angry ... they would instinctively know ... she was the wrong person to mess with even as a child. 

One would see little Victoria begin smiling the softest, sweetest smile with her little full lips.  If they happened to look into her very green eyes ... they would feel the chill from ... the ice in her eyes.  A smart person would walk in the opposite direction ... a smart person would.

Victoria went to Hell at the age of nine ... she learned the ways of the Devil at an early age.  She grew up to be the best person in the world ... when needed ... the worse person in the world.  Victoria would walk where the Devil wouldn't tread ...

Photos/Story is of me, written by me ... owned by me, Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee.

This short story is about Victoria as a young child, based partly on true life when I was a child.  I know Victoria ... very well.  Victoria Fairchild is my main character.

I am writing the second book, 'The Saga Of Victoria Fairchild', now.  The first book I published is, 'When She's Good ... She's Good' ... it's a short story introducing Victoria Fairchild. 

Saturday, August 23, 2014

Victoria Felt The White, Hot Anger ... Began Smiling

Victoria Felt The White, Hot Anger ... Began Smiling
By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee

Artwork by Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee ... a drawing of ... Victoria Fairchild


The young girl stood in front of her stepmother. Her stomach felt sick ... she thought she was going to puke right in her step-mother's face. She held herself tightly ... don't move, don't move ... she told herself.

Her stepmother screamed, raged at her. You little bitch, you're just like your damn mother! I hate you, she screamed at Victoria. I don't want you living here, I wish you would die!

Victoria felt the tears flow down her cheeks. She honestly had tried to fit in with her father's family. It wasn't working at all. Charlotte was always doing something wrong, like sleeping with her boyfriend. Victoria would keep her from getting into trouble, hoping it would make Charlotte love her, be happy to have a big sister.

Whenever Victoria walked through the doorway at the same time her father was entering it ... he would physically jump away from the door. He would look at her with the meanest expression on his face ... he would growl at her to go on through!

Victoria would go to the bedroom where she stayed most of the time, when she wasn't in school. She tried to stay out of everyone's way. No matter what she did, didn't do ... somehow, she managed to stay in trouble, grounded. Her sister, Charlotte, got everything ... she was the golden child. Charlotte couldn't do any wrong.

Her stepmother began slapping her in the face. Her head went this way, that way with each blow. Soon, blood began flying out of her nose ... even through the pain, Victoria had the urge to run clean it up!

Her stepmother stood glaring at Victoria. If I could, I would make you have an accident! Victoria stared at her stepmother in shock ... she'd never said such a thing to her in the past. Her stepmother truly hated her!

Everything began when her father, stepmother came home from town. Her father went to their bathroom, came back to the kitchen, spoke to Victoria's step-mother.

Victoria's stepmother told Victoria to go to the bathroom. Victoria went to hers, Charlotte's bathroom, to wait. Her father came in ... stood, glared at her. Victoria was afraid of him.

Did you use my razor, he asked her. She knew she hadn't used anyone's razor. She knew Charlotte had used it to shave her legs.

This time, she wasn't going to take the blame! No, I didn't use your razor. Her father raised his voice at her for the first time in her life. You are a liar, he yelled at her. You used my razor, and put it back in the bathroom, dirty!

No, Victoria cried ... honest, I really didn't use your razor! Her father stood looking her in her eyes ... when his hand came up, struck her on the side of her face, knocking her into the porcelain sink. He reached for her ... just as her stepmother came into the bathroom.

Her stepmother pushed her father out of the bathroom. Victoria began to cry silently ... her father had never hit her in her life. He'd never yelled at her until today.

Her stepmother came into the bathroom, began screaming at her. She began slapping Victoria in her face, making her nose bleed. Victoria wanted to sink into the floor, away from such hatred, pain. Physical pain ... mental pain.

Victoria began to feel a white, hot anger course through her body. It was a danger signal. She began to stand taller ... a little smile began to form on her lips. She was a sight to behold ... her young face was covered in blood mixed with tears streaking through it ... smiling a sweet little smile. Her eyes were cold as ice ...

Her stepmother froze, looked closer at Victoria. She felt a chill go through her. She instinctively knew ... she was in mortal danger. She began to back out of the bathroom, all the while watching Victoria. She knew she'd never abuse her stepdaughter again.

Victoria fought the urge not to strike out at her stepmother. She closed her eyes, took deep breaths; repeated to herself to calm down.

Victoria knew she couldn't stay here another night. Someone would die. She was going to run away to keep from hurting her stepmother. Victoria was fourteen years old, not old enough to make it on her own. She was going to call her mother!

Soon, Victoria's mother, and aunt drove up in the driveway. Victoria ran out to them. Mama! I'm so glad to see you! Her mother pushed her behind her ... she was ready to fight Victoria's stepmother. She had just come out of the house, began walking fast toward the car.

The women began screaming at each other. Victoria's mother told her to get into the car. They got in behind her, and Victoria's aunt began to drive. Soon, they were at her mother's home. Victoria took a deep breath ... she could relax, now. She was very happy to be ... home. She smiled a real smile ... that reached her eyes.


Photo Credit/Story Credit belongs to me. Story is written by me, and is partly based on true events in my life. Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee

Victoria Fairchild is my main character in the new book (2nd book about Victoria Fairchild) ... I'm writing at present. My book is a scary book ... Victoria is a very unusual character. One never knows what will happen...

This little, short story won't be published in the book. I am warming up to begin writing on my book, soon. Call it practicing ... :)

Friday, August 22, 2014

Victoria Fairchild ... Is A Good Person ... She Can Be Very, Very Bad

Victoria Fairchild ... Is A Good Person ... She Can Be Very, Very Bad
By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee

Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee ...


Lately, I've been warming up to write on my book once again. So much has happened in our life to affect my writing ability. It is hard to think when stressed, worried.

Not only that ... for months, my internet service went to ... hell. About six months to be exact. Sprint was updating their towers. I tried going to the library, and carried alcohol and paper towels in a little bag to clean the mouse, keyboard, and monitor.

You wouldn't believe ... every day there was always the same person there who ... passed gas ... I just couldn't take it. I felt sorry for him, though. He also, talked to himself. It just made it difficult for me to sit there. So, I stopped going... I wouldn't have ever hurt his feelings for anything ... he wouldn't have really understood, I don't think.

The little short stories are just practice ... like when I begin to paint after long periods of time between. I hope they are entertaining ... I'm entertained while writing ... I put myself in them. In fact, I would be my main character, Victoria. :) That doesn't mean I'd for-real murder someone, now! :)

I sit, write the short stories ... get lost in them. I become Victoria as I write. I see through her eyes, listen through her ears, and experience things she does. If I were a mean person ... I would be very bad. :) But, I'm not ... I'm quite the opposite.

Thankfully, I'm a good person ... who believes in people getting back what they do to people, animals. 'An eye for an eye ... a tooth for a tooth ....' Certainly, Victoria believes this ... and she WILL take care of business in a heartbeat, never blink an eye.

I don't take it upon myself to punish others. I'm not God. It doesn't take away what I think, though. I'm against people/animal cruelty. I truly believe if you harm either ... your ass should feel the exact same punishment.

Yes, this is exactly what this good person believes. You deserve it .. to feel exactly what you inflict upon another when you hurt them. If it makes you happy to abuse someone, or an animal ... can you tell me what possible good are you in this world? There are too many people like this ... that's why there's a war all the time.

Then, again ... truthfully, we need bad people who can go in, do bad things to make good things happen. This ... I understand ... sometimes, bad things need to ... go away for good.

I can't put these short stories in my book, because when I publish it, anything I write in my book ... can't be found on the computer when they check for it. That's why I won't include these short stories. What I write in my book has to be for the first time... and not be anywhere else.

I look forward soon to get engrossed in finishing my second book about Victoria Fairchild. The first book I published 'When She's Good ... She's Good (When She's Bad ... She's Very, Very Bad)' ... was a thin book ... it was my introductory to Victoria.

Victoria is a very unusual character. She acts on the moment, her decisions are made in a split second ... she never thinks twice ... she just ... does. She knows how to improvise with nothing. Not only that, she has special powers when she needs them. Her favorite cousin, Lind Lou, has those same powers.

You have to know about Lind Lou. She loves to put herself in her paintings ... not only herself ... she would love to put 'some of you' in her paintings ... blood, fingernails ... hair. She's a true artist ... her paintings are ... real. You wouldn't believe ...

Victoria has a best friend named Nancy. Now, Nancy goes with her sometimes, on her ventures. Victoria tries to protect Nancy ... she cares for her very much.

Chip is Victoria's husband ... he knows Victoria is unique; he is always traveling, driving a big rig. Somehow, he knows when Victoria needs him. He doesn't try to get in her way ... when she's set on doing something. They make a perfect couple.

Victoria has another friend, named Mary. She is a special person, also. She was once homeless ... Victoria took her away from that world, sent her to college, and gave her all the tools she needed to become independent. Mary became a rich woman, and had the life she could have only dreamed of at one time.

Victoria and Chip own buildings in the city. Behind those buildings lie a world the average person isn't aware of. It's the homeless world, Victoria calls 'Hell'. She had one of the buildings set up the way she wanted ... so, at any time she wanted to, she could blend in with the homeless people. She dressed the part ... Victoria has three closets ... two that are secret ... in her big, beautiful home.

A lot of safety measures were put in place to protect Victoria, or anyone she chose ... to get into the building if something threatened their safety.

Victoria had a friend in Hell. His name was Buckaroo. She always looked for him when she entered Hell. He could tell her what was going on there with people she cared about. Not only that, he had her back, and would protect her.

She made sure the people she cared about had what they needed, there. Most chose not to come out of the homeless world they lived in.

This gives you an idea of what my Victoria Fairchild books are about. She has to do bad things ... in order to make good things happen. Woe into anyone ... who ever abuses a homeless person, or animal ...

Victoria is a good person ... Victoria can be ... very, very bad.

Photo/Story Credit belongs to me, is owned by me ... Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee





It Still Wouldn't Stop Victoria ... From Kicking Her Ass!

It Still Wouldn't Stop Victoria ... From Kicking Her Ass!
By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee

Artwork by Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee  ... I portrayed Victoria and Lind Lou as adults, here.  One was as dark as night, as the other was light as the sun ... both equally as beautiful as the other.  


A little girl of twelve stood watching the wiggling mass in front of her. She grinned an evil little grin. That'll teach your ass to be a bully ... next time ...

The little girl inside the feed sack that was tied around her waist ... was screaming bloody murder. She couldn't get her arms out for the cord tied tightly around her waist. She felt more pain as something struck her in the back; in the chest ... on the head. She fell to the ground, sobbing.

Victoria struck her once again for good measure. She growled at her, telling her if she saw her being a bully again ... it'd ... be the end. The little girl underneath the pillow case couldn't recognize her voice. She was afraid for her life. It sounded like the devil was growling at her!

She felt herself being led for several moments, thrown to the ground. She felt something laying on top of her. She knew she was being buried alive! It must be a body on top of her ... she began to struggle once again. She felt a blow to her face ...

Victoria left the girl laying in the barn. She went back to regular life ... no one suspected her of anything. She believed in fairness; she hated a bully; not only that ... anyone who harmed an animal... or ... her.  She took care of them ... she never thought about it twice ... she did it, naturally. Victoria was special ... she had powers that even she didn't know.

For all she knew, her cousin had powers she wasn't aware of ... yet. That was okay, Victoria just fixed her ass! She wasn't afraid of her. She felt anger thinking about what Lind Lou had done to cause her to be hurt.

Lind Lou had told their cousin, Clay, to push her into the ditch. Unknowing to Lindy Lou, and Clay ... they didn't know someone had thrown an old, glass gallon jar into the ditch. It was broken, ragged.

Clay told Victoria to come on, get in the red wagon ... he'd pull her around in it. Victoria jumped into the wagon, she loved to be the one pulled. Clay pulled her around in front of the house, passing by Lind Lou who smiled, waved cheerfully to her. Victoria felt ... something ... not right. She dismissed it in her mind.

Clay pulled her along the deep ditch, stopped, pulled the wagon forward. He began backing the wagon toward the ditch. Don't back me into the ditch, Clay! Victoria was frantically turning to look backwards, her hands holding onto the sides.

Clay gave the wagon a shove hard ... Victoria went flying backwards into the ditch! For a moment, she didn't move when she landed on the ground. A most awful scream filled the air ... Victoria began screaming non-stop.

She managed to stand up, fell back to the ground. Lind Lou and Clay saw red ... lots of wet ... red on Victoria's legs. The screams were just awful. Somebody was in trouble!

Clay's mother ran out of the house ... across the yard, down into the ditch. She helped Victoria to stand up, turn around. On the back of Victoria's leg was a huge gash! Blood gushed out of the cut that gaped open. Oh, my God! she said.

They saw the broken, gallon jar lying near Victoria. It was dripping with Victoria's blood. Red, wet ... drops of Victoria's life dripped inside the broken glass.

Victoria was taken to the hospital. The gash was cleaned, stitched up. The pain was horrible. The more pain, the more Victoria vowed to herself ... she would find out why Clay pushed her into the ditch. A cast was put on her leg to keep her from bending it.

Victoria was taken home, put into a darkened bedroom to rest. She slept from the medicine given to her. Time went by ...

She healed in body ... but, in mind ... she felt familar white, hot anger. This anger would signal danger as she became older. She would begin smiling a soft, sweet smile that never quite reached her eyes. If someone didn't know her ... they'd never recognize the danger signals.

Victoria began playing a game, pretending not to suspect anything wrong. Eventually ... Clay slipped in telling her that Lind Lou had told him to push her into the ditch. Victoria began smiling softly, lowering her eyes ... so, Clay wouldn't see the anger that hid behind them. Lind Lou's ass ... was in trouble!

All the kids were playing tag ... Lind Lou was 'It'. She counted to one hundred ... went looking for everyone. She slipped into the barn, not knowing that was exactly where Victoria was waiting for her, at.

Victoria had a feed sack in one hand, a cord in the other. She was standing behind bales of hay ... smiling softly. No one could see the ice in her green eyes. It was time to carry out her plan.

Lind Lou didn't like the dark light inside the barn. She wanted to leave. She felt ... afraid.

She began to struggle when something fell over her head, covering her upper body! She felt something tighten up around her waist, trapping her arms. She began to scream, felt blows on her head, her face.

Lind Lou had never felt such pain in her life. She was afraid for her life. She fought with every ounce of strength she had. She froze when a voice began growling at her.

She waited forever it seemed ... to try to sit up. She couldn't see; something was over her body. She began feeling where the cloth was pulled tightly ... it opened!

Lind Lou began pulling the cloth off herself. It was an old, dirty feed sack. She saw a cord laying on the ground beside her ... that must have been tied around her waist!

Lind Lou stood up, quietly. She hoped she was alone. All she wanted to do was to get out of the barn, back to everyone. Back to her favorite cousin whom she was jealous of, sometimes ... she would tell her what happened! Victoria would help her!

Lind Lou tiptoed toward the door. She could see the light from outside the building. She made it to the door, quietly swung it open ... ran outside!

She ran to the house, saw Victoria sitting on the back steps, eating a slice of watermelon. Victoria! Victoria! Lind Lou ran to Victoria's side, fell on the steps beside her.

Victoria looked up in alarm. She saw red welts on Lindy's Lou's bare arms, legs ... face. Lind Lou had tears in her eyes.

She asked her what was wrong. Lind Lou told her about the devil voice, what it said. Told her about being beaten, left laying on the ground with a bag of feed laying on top of her ... how she thought a body had been thrown on top of her ... how she thought she was being buried alive!

Victoria smiled sweetly, told Lind Lou not to worry anymore. She was there for her favorite cousin; she'd kick anybody's ass if they ever touched her again! She meant that thing!

Lind Lou felt safe with Victoria. She felt sorry she had told Clay to push Victoria in the ditch! She was jealous that Clay and Victoria were favorite cousins, also. She wanted Victoria to be mad at Clay!

Strangely enough, Victoria loved Lind Lou very much. But ... it wouldn't stop her from ... kicking her ass!


Photo/Story Credit: photo is my artwork ... I drew Victoria and Lind Lou as adult women, both equally beautiful as the other.  Story is owned, written by Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee


This is just another short story about Victoria Fairchild, the main character in my published book; and 2nd book I'm writing about her.

The story I just wrote is partially based on a true story of my young life. I was the one who got the really bad cut on the back of my leg ... the scar today is big, and in an 'L' shape ... maybe for ... 'Lindy Lou'? :) :) :) :)

Oh! I'll leave you guessing if there was a real 'Lindy Lou', or not ... in real life. In Victoria's young life ... of course, there was!

Oh ... not that it matters!  :)))



Thursday, August 21, 2014

"Job Well Done"!

"Job Well Done" ...
By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee




(This is the 3rd little short story about Victoria, my main character in my book I'm writing ... this won't be in the book.

I am practicing writing, warming up to begin writing again.

The first two little short stories you can read to catch up to this, are ... A Burning Box; A Girl's Got To Do What A Girl's ... Got To Do!)

Victoria stood in the basement, looking at her handiwork. Not so bad for the second time.

She'd just put Charlotte's boyfriend's ashes into another urn. Both were sitting side by side. That was the second cremation Victoria had ever done. She did good.

Now ... what to do with the urns. She wanted to be sure the ashes would never be found. For the moment, she needed to hide them. She was tired, after all ... handling two bodies took something out of a person.

She went to the wall, began feeling along the joints where each brick was joined. She knew what to do with the ashes. She was going to chip the mortar out between each until she had a space big enough to hide both urns.

She walked over to the bench, saw the tool she needed. She began chipping. When she finished, she swept up the old mortar ... opened up Charlotte's urn ... poured it inside with her ashes. She put the lid back on ... did the same with Charlotte's boyfriend's ashes. Both urns were full to the brim with Charlotte, her boyfriend, and the mortar.

Victoria took both urns and placed them inside the sheetrock she'd sawed a square hole in ... both sat on the floor inside the wall. She knew there was quickcrete in the shed outside the basement door. She may as well get it done right now.

She mixed the quickcrete in a bucket, began putting the bricks back to fill the hole. She walked outside, got some soil, brought it back inside. She mixed the soil with water... and took a cloth, began rubbing the mortar to make it match the old mortar in color.

Victoria turned around, looked at the old incinerator. She had an idea. No one knew, or remembered it was there. She knew that she was going to 'go in business' ... rid the world of mean, cruel people who harmed others; animals. They were going to burn in ... hell.

She walked up the steps, flipped the switch at the top. The basement became dark. She went through the door, locked it.

Victoria was going to bed. She didn't have a worry in the world. She knew how to take care of business ... and she reached up, patted herself on the shoulder. Aloud, she said ..."job well done"!
Photo/Story Credit are both owned, written by me, Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee.

A Girl's Got To Do What A Girl's ... Got To Do!

A Girl's Got To Do What A Girl's ... Got To Do!
By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee


(Read my story 'A Burning Box' to get the first part of this story about Victoria ... Victoria is my main character in the book I published, and am in process of writing the 2nd book about her) ... (this won't be in my book ... I'm practicing writing to inspire myself to get started writing again) ...


Victoria let the incinerator cool down. She reached the broom sitting nearby, began to sweep up the small amount of ashes left of ... her sister, Charlotte.

Damn! This was all that was left of her sister. She almost began giggling hysterically ... it wasn't funny her sister had died ... yet, it was funny in the context that ... this was one way to lose weight! No, it wasn't funny ... she quit laughing.

She walked over to the shelf, found an old urn. She took the hem of her dress, used it to dust the urn off. She took the lid off, walked over to her sister's ashes. She picked up a little dust pan, swept the ashes into it, poured them into the urn.

Now! Now, the bitch won't bother me anymore, she thought. It was a shame Charlotte became greedy, not wanting to share their grandmother's wealth when she died. Without planning to ... she'd taken Charlotte out of the picture. She had it all!

If she could, she'd slap the hell out of Charlotte. She'd made Victoria kill her ass. She had to figure out how to dispose of her ashes.

Victoria heard a sound behind her! What the hell! She knew it was impossible, but ... there was someone down in the basement with her! How could that be? No one lived here, but ... her ... and Charlotte. She just burned her ass up into the ashes she'd just filled the old urn with.

She stood there with her back to the sound. She wouldn't let on that she knew someone was there. She stayed busy with her hands, got one of them in her pocket, pulled the little snub-nosed pistol out.

She listened closely to the tread of soft steps behind her. When she thought it was close enough, Victoria turned around quickly!

Son of a bitch! It was Charlotte's boyfriend! He must have been sleeping over. She saw his shoulder... his shirt was bloodstained. That's who she shot in the bed, thinking it was her sister, Victoria!

He held a hammer in his hand... ready to strike her from behind! Oh no, you don't, you bastard! She never hesitated ... she shot him dead in the heart. He fell with a loud thump. She watched him ... he never moved.

She turned the incinerator on .... found another urn to put his ashes in. Damn! She had to go through the whole process of cremating a body ... again!

She put his ass in the box, slid it into the fire. She stood there watching the box burn, thinking ... she never planned on all of this. Charlotte brought all this on because of her greed. Charlotte had set off a chain-reaction 'making' Victoria ... do what a girl's got to do!

Photo/Story is of me, owned, written by me ... Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee

A Mother's Grief Never Goes Away ...

A Mother's Grief Never Goes Away ...
By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee


Seagulls walked on the sand, flew up in the sky

Sunlight kissing their wings ... as they soared

It came to my mind the evening my son died

I know the last sounds he heard were the ocean, sea gulls

He died on the soft, damp sand by the ocean

His little son was close by ...saw him fall

Daddy, get up ... come play with me

Daddy, won't you get up ... come play with me

He was too young to know his daddy had played

For the first, last time at the beach with him

He was too young to know how excited his daddy was

To be taking his son to the beach to run, play

Too young to know ... his daddy had made it just in time

To play with him ... to leave a beautiful memory behind

As he went to Heaven that evening ... his spirit soared above

To look down with sadness at his little son he had to leave behind

Tommy, come home ... the sea gulls sang

He watched his son call to him to come play

He drifted down to put his hand gently on his son's head

His son looked up, never saw him ... tears in his blue, blue eyes

Daddy! Daddy! Daddy, please get up! Come play with me!

He shook his daddy's shoulders ... he never moved

Young as the little boy was ... he instinctively knew something was wrong

He laid his little blonde head down on his daddy's chest

Wept for him ... somehow, he knew Daddy wouldn't be playing anymore

He felt a hand touch his shoulders, looked up, saw a group of people

Who became his guardian angels until his mother could be found

One picked up the cellphone that had fallen to the ground

Dialed the last number called ... to a home two-hundred miles away

The woman answered with a smiling, happy voice

Hello, Tommy! An expression of puzzlement came across her face

When a strange voice answered her ... why do you have my son's phone?

It was my voice ... I was the woman Tommy last called ... I was his mother

My world ended that evening for almost three years

To this day, I still can't believe my only child died, my son

So strong, so vibrant ... so full of life; how could that happen?

Can you imagine such ... imagine your adult child is gone?

You can't imagine ... it hurts too bad to think about it

A real person who grew up with his own special personality

With a voice, laugh all his own ... a person whom you gave birth to

Your own beautiful creation ... a real part of yourself

Someone you love with your very Heart, so thankful for

Knowing he'd always be there when one day you become old

Never expecting him ... to die before you

If I'd been at the ocean, I would have cried with my very Heart

Son, please come back ... please come home!

Photo Credit is mine... is of my son ... Tommy, grandson, and owned by me, Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee.

Note by this author:

I write over and over about the evening my son, my child died. I try to imagine exactly what happened, see it in my mind. I will probably do this the rest of my life. I miss my son ... though, somehow I've accepted his death ... the pain is just as great.

The trapped bird sensation still fills my stomach at times, I feel panicky ... sick inside. I want to cry out to the Heavens above. I try to think of other things fast, so, I won't become lost in my grief.

Grief is an awful thing ... it's like falling into an ocean of darkness that threatens to drown you. It's very hard to come back from. Thankfully, I had Skip and our Pups... they are ... why ... I came back. I had no one else left in this world but, them to come back to.

I've never felt sorry for myself, nor wallowed in self-pity. I stayed in the darkness for protection from the pain that hurt worse than anything I've ever felt in my entire life.

I know Tommy can't come back. I don't question 'why' did he die. I know these are for-real 'impossible' things. So, that proves the old saying 'anything is possible' isn't ... exactly true. :)

I don't feel bitter, angry because Tommy's gone. I just feel the bittersweetness from the sweet memories of my son ... my golden child. The precious baby I brought in this world.

Writing helps me to cope ... through time, you will see me writing about this over, and over. Know that while I'm writing, I'm also, imagining at the same time how my son's last moments were; what he heard ... what he saw. If his soul soared above to look down at little Taban, his precious son.

Know I'm examining every little detail that I know, sense about my son's death. Why? I think, I don't really know, but ... I think every grieving mother must do this. This grieving mother does. Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee


Wednesday, August 20, 2014

A Burning Box ...

A Burning Box ... (I made up a short story with this title)
By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee

Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee


She was being stalked; she knew that. By whom, she didn't know. She sensed a presence nearby ... it meant her harm.

Hatred burns like hell ... she felt the heat from it. Someone hated her with a passion. She couldn't think ... why ... someone would hate her so much.

There it was, again. She felt the heat from hell burn her skin. Someone was close by ... they meant her harm. She scanned around her, without seeming to.

A dark shadow stepped behind the tree a hundred yards behind her. That was her stalker! She continued to walk down the sidewalk, soon ... she'd be at her destination. It was beginning to get dark.

She reached the library, walked through the gate, up the steps. She wondered if the presence would follow her inside. Instead of going straight in, she knew she had time enough to duck down behind the shrubbery close by. She was afraid, but ... she needed to see who her enemy was.

What the enemy didn't know was, Victoria wasn't afraid of them. She was afraid it was someone she knew, loved. She couldn't bear what she had to do ... even if it was a loved one.

She heard the footsteps come through the gate. She watched in shock ... her sister was walking steathily up the steps. She saw her stand outside the library door, peering inside the glass. Victoria knew she was looking for her ...

She saw a glint off something in her sister's hand! She felt her breath catch in her throat. A knife! Her sister had a knife! To use on her! Pure, white, hot anger spread through Victoria. The heat from this fire was hotter than any hellfire! She would fix her sister ... fix her good. She wouldn't live to learn her lesson.

Victoria waited until Charlotte became tired of waiting for her to come out of the library. Charlotte turned to walk down the stairs, out the gate ... Victoria was soon behind her. She was the stalker, now. She was stalking her enemy ... her sister!

Victoria slipped her hand inside her pocket ... felt for something she kept on herself at all times. A small snub-nosed gun that fit her hand perfectly.

Soon, Charlotte reached their home where both lived, sharing everything. Victoria wondered what had made her sister turn against her enough to want to kill her.

Charlotte entered the house, closed the door. Victoria waited for thirty minutes before entering, quietly. The front door opened silently. Victoria slipped inside. She was on alert, just in case Charlotte wanted to waylay her. She was going to have to do it ... if she didn't, Charlotte would do it to her. She was going to have to ... kill her sister.

She heard a sound on the other side of Charlotte's bedroom door. She decided she would wait a few minutes to listen, feel things out. While she waited, she thought about the big, old house they lived in, owned. It used to be a funeral home. It never bothered them.

Soon, all became deathly still. Victoria waited. She walked silently to Charlotte's beroom door. Thankfully, all the old doors in the house were well-oiled, opened quietly. She waited until she felt Charlotte was asleep.

Victoria opened the door, it never made a sound. She could see the shadow of Charlotte laying on her bed. She began to tiptoe to the bed, gun in hand. Victoria didn't know what hit her! She fell to the floor! Pain ripped through her arm ...

She had been tricked. Charlotte knew Charlotte had caught onto her! Victoria's anger filled her body ... there would be hell to pay. She was going to send Charlotte there!

Victoria jumped up ... she saw Charlotte's shadow. She fired her gun. She heard a groan, knew she'd hit Charlotte. Charlotte began screaming from the pain, rage.

You bitch, you shot me! Charlotte jumped to her feet. Victoria was waiting for her. She was going to kill her ass ... if she didn't ... Charlotte was going to kill her. It was a fight to the end ... who would win, it was anybody's guess.

Soon, both met in the middle of the floor. They began screaming at each other, ripping each other's long hair out. Fingernails scratched, tore open skin. Teeth bit, tore out chunks of bloody flesh that fell onto the floor. They danced the dance of death ... in the dark.

The moans, groans, screams ceased. They fought silently to the death. Someone was going to die tonight.

Victoria put her strong hands around her sister's neck ... she put a choke-hold on her. Charlotte clawed Victoria's hands with her nails. Blood dripped on Charlotte's neck. Victoria didn't let go ... she waited for Charlotte's last breath.

She didn't have to wait long. Charlotte tried to take her last breath, couldn't. Her body began to shake violently; soon, it lay still. Victoria didn't let her go ... not yet. She had to be sure Charlotte had died. If she didn't, it'd be her ass that would die.

As she held onto Charlotte's neck ... she thought about ... why Charlotte wanted to kill her. Greed. Their grandmother had died, leaving all her wealth to both of them. Victoria never sensed that Charlotte didn't want to share with her. Charlotte wanted it all.

Victoria knew what Charlotte was going to get ... it'd be soon in coming. She got up off Charlotte's body, went to the door, opened it. She was going to drag Charlotte's body to the basement where the old incinerator was. She knew it worked ... she and Charlotte fired it up ever so often. They roasted hot dogs in it!

There were boxes still in the basement that were used to cremate bodies, years ago. Victoria pulled Charlotte's limp body by her feet; her head thumped hard on each step as Victoria pulled her down the steps.

She left Charlotte's body in the middle of the floor. Victoria went to the old incinerator, turned it on. It began to heat up. She turned to Charlotte's body ... it was time to put her in a box.

She looked at her sister's face in death. Victoria's anger had cooled some. She pushed hair back from Charlotte's face. Her lips were apart; her eyes still open. Victoria gently closed Charlotte's eyes.

Victoria put Charlotte's body in the box; used the lift to roll her body to the incinerator's door. The box began to get hot ...began to burn as soon as Victoria pushed it all the way in. She closed the door; watched the fire through the glass door.

She said goodbye to her sister in her mind ... as she sent her to hell ... in a burning box.

*** Photo/Story is of me, owned by me ... Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee

*** Several of you asked me about a story with the title Skip made up ... this is it. :)

Tuesday, August 19, 2014

Home With Her Loved Ones ... Forever More

Home With Her Loved Ones ... Forever More
By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee


Wrinkles ... loose skin hanging in folds

The body old, fragile ... beauty long gone

She gets up to walk to the door ... she groans

Oh, her poor hip ... aching joints, chest ... pain unlike before

She used to be young, beautiful, agile at ... one time

Those days are gone ... she's left with her memories

In her mind she saw sunshine, herself running like the wind

Happy, free as a bird, from the pain that invaded her body

She held onto the wall for support as she walked

Before ... she walked with such vigor, strong ... lively

Now ... she limped from the pain in her hip where she fell

Years ago ... out the door she went ... in a cowboy fall

She smiled at that memory ... that was the fastest she ever went out a door

She lost her footing, flew out the door, tried to hold on, instead flew across the porch, landed on cement steps

Damn! That hurt like hell ... she remembered hoping no one saw her

She raised her head to see, no matter the excruciating pain in her hip

She wondered who was at the door ... the doorbell rung again

Her wrinkled, blue-veined hands turned the knob

Someone stood there ... her eyes widened at the black hood

The black cape that hung to the ground ... she felt the pain unlike before

In her chest, a storm began to play out ... a volcano exploded

Her visitor took her by the hand, led her away into darkness

The pain was gone in her body, her soul was freed to soar

Soar with joy, happiness ... Death had come for her

She went to Heaven, sensed other souls around her... she didn't see faces

She 'knew' who each was, they were her loved ones, long gone before her

She was home, now ... home where she belonged

No more pain, sadness, loneliness ... she was home with her loved ones forever more
Photo/Poem Credit: is of me, owned by me ... Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee



She Just Died A Beautiful Death ...

She Just Died A Beautiful Death ...
By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee

Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee


I lay listening to the soft, beautiful music

Music of old ... rambling rose, rambling rose

What a beautiful song to ... die by

As I lay dying, for a moment it seemed eerie

The music sounded antiquey, sort of tinny

Sort of like on a horror show

I didn't want to die a scary death

So, I got up ... decided not to die today

When I die, I want it to be beautiful ... happy

Happy, you say; how can dying be happy?

Dying happy means dying peacefully, not in pain

Dying, listening to soft, beautiful music

Sinking deep into the soft darkness

Soul being freed, ready to soar

Time to let go ... time to let go

Soar high in the sky ... look down below

At the body laying peacefully on the bed

A little smile on her lips, reaching her closed eyes

Soul has left the body ... no more pain

Freedom to fly high into the air

My, my ... she looks relaxed, so pretty

I think she ... just died a beautiful death
Photo / Poem Credit: Photo is of me, owned by me. Poem is written by me. Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee

Note by this author: Don't ask me 'why' I wrote this ... I began writing ... and 'it became this' ... :)

Monday, August 18, 2014

Sunshine In The Shower ... Shower In The Moonlight

Sunshine In The Shower ... Shower In The MoonLight
By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee

A younger Granny Gee ... Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee ......................................


Peeping from closed eyes, I see sunlight shining through the spray of water from the showerhead.

It sparkled, danced over my hair, my body. I loved it. Sunlight in the shower ... my shower. I feel the breeze from the window nearby ... I keep my eyes closed. I try to bring a special memory back ...

I pretend I'm at the beach where I took the most wonderful shower in my life.

One evening late, I arrived at the beach. I was very young, and alone. I drove on the highway where I saw a rustic shower house. I drove into the empty parking lot. It was getting dark ... night lights were on. The moon was shining bright.

I walked up the boardwalk ... entered the shower house cautiously. I walked to each stall to make sure it was empty. I had an idea!

I wondered if I had the nerve ... decided yes, I was going to do it! I took my dress, sandals off .... folded all neatly, placed them on the wooden bench.

I turned on the shower ... waited for it to get warm. It never got warm, so, I stepped under the cool water. I closed my eyes, and enjoyed the breeze blowing under the wall that enclosed the shower. It felt ... wonderful on my skin.

I enjoyed my shower that night .... no one was around. I felt I was doing something special, daring ... it was my wonderful, happy secret.

All these years, that one shower made such an impression on me.

I try to recapture that feeling ever once in a while. I open the window in my bathroom when the wind is blowing ... close my eyes in the shower, pretend I'm back at the beach that night.

I love it, also ... when the sun shines, making my shower a happy place to bathe. I love how it shines through the shower curtain creating a cheerful light.

I don't know about you ... but, I love my soaps, and good scents to bathe with. Shower time is a special time for me.

The best shower I ever took was at the shower house ... that night! I love sunshine in the shower! I love to shower in the moonlight!


Photo/Story Credit is mine, Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee


Note by author: This is a true story. I did this as a young woman. When the moon would get full, I would jump in my car, drive all the way to the ocean to walk on the beach.

I would let the wind blow my long skirt around my legs, and listen to the waves as I walked, and danced to the waves around my ankles.

The moon would glow on the water, make it sparkle... kiss my face as I looked up at it. It was a wonderful, wonderful feeling.

I would stop, listen to the sound of the waves breaking ... wish I could stay there forever. Peaceful ... oh, so peaceful.


You Might Mistreat People, Animals ...

You Might Mistreat People, Animals ...
By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee

Our three Pups... they are treasured, loved by us.  They are ours to love, protect, care for.  That's what Pups are for ... to be loved... not isolated, mistreated... left at the mercy of other wild animals .............


Have you ever sat, watched Discovery Channel ... see the wild animals go about their life? Do you ever think about how dangerous life is for ... a wild animal?

I think about things maybe a lot of people don't think to ... think about. I look at things a lot of people don't think to look at. You look at a photo ... I look at the background. That sort of thing ...

I was watching how dangerous it is for monkeys when they jump from limb, vine to vine ... make a misjudgment, lands in the river. What gets him? Nothing but, a huge-ass crocodile!

I think about people getting little puppies who are away from their litter-mates, mother for the first time. What do they do? They stick them outside, alone ... at the mercy of wild animals who eat, maim such. They cry for comfort, love that they've always known. Shame on people who do such... double-shame on you.

I'm not for putting dogs on a chain, or in an isolated fence away from the house. Why in the hell would someone get a dog ... if they are going to do that?

No way ... can anyone convince me to think that's a good way to treat an animal. Give the dog away to someone who can make it a family pet... give it love it deserves.

You don't know it... but, doing a dog like that ... reflects on ... your character. An awful ... reflection. If you will take time to look in your neighbor's eyes... you'll see ... dislike for what you do with your dog. They might pretend to like you but, inside ... you just don't know.

I watch little rabbits hopping along merrily ... until I see it isn't 'merrily'... at all! Something is chasing it ... it's part of the food chain.

I feel sadness inside ... I know life is that way, and I have to accept it. Animals live in constant danger at all times. Something bigger wants to eat them for lunch ... it's survival of the strongest.

I guess it's that way with us humans, also. Something always wants from us ... human predators. If we are in the ocean, we can become human bait. If we are in the wild, we become human food. If we are isolated in remote areas ... some people eat each other.

Crazy thoughts, yet ... they are true. Do you ever think of such, never bother to share such with others? These are my 'Gloria Opinions... Thoughts' ... if you don't like me for them ... I wonder 'why'? You might mistreat people, animals...

Photo/Story are owned by me, Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee

Saturday, August 16, 2014

My Tears ... Fall Inside, Hidden From The World

My Tears ... Fall Inside, Hidden From The World
By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee

Photo owned by Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee.  This is the last photo taken of Tommy just a few hours ... before he died on May 29, 2010.  Who would have ever thought?  He died, running, playing on the beach with his little three year old son.  He got there ... just in time ... to play for a few minutes ... collapsed on the soft sand ...


Sometimes ... I pause, think ... I can't believe Tommy's not here, anymore. I mean, I can't believe he isn't ... here, anymore.

I picture him in my mind ... I see his bright Tommy smile ... like a happy glow around his face. Like a cartoon picture of the sunshine ... with happy sun rays around it. I draw them, sometimes.

I picture his blue-green eyes, blonde hair. I see a tall, handsome guy standing there. My son ... my son, whom I was so proud of.

I listen to his soft voice, fun laugh in my mind. He loved to joke, play pranks. He could laugh like the cowardly lion ... and I would laugh until I cried, listening to him.

Sometimes, we would begin talking, and talk about something funny ... both of us would begin laughing ... and laugh harder when we looked at each other's eyes. One of us would say something more funny, and we'd laugh more.

I loved my son. I really miss him. I don't cry now, as I once did. I do feel ... bittersweet. I do feel sadness in my heart.

How did I accept my son's death? I'm not sure when I did ... Sometimes, I do feel some of the old, panicky feelings inside ... I try to let go of them, quickly.

I would have never guess I would have to grow older without my child being ... there. I never had a clue that such would happen ... I knew he would be there, always.

I remember being very sick, trying to prepare him for something happening to me. I knew my son loved me with his heart ... I was afraid for him ... if I died.

I never thought to prepare myself for my son's ... death. Today ... when I think of him, I smile with great sadness in my Heart. My tears ... fall inside, hidden from the world.


Photo/Story Credit: is of my son, Tommy.  Both are owned by me, Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee. 

Friday, August 15, 2014

Fatal Infection ... (Learn how an everyday thing almost killed my husband ... something we all do ... know what to do, if it happens to you)

Fatal Infection ... (Learn how an everyday thing almost killed my husband ... something we all do ... know what to do, if it happens to ... you)

By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee

Photo Credit:  Of, and owned by Gloria Faye Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee

Well ... let me begin with August 3rd, Sunday ... Skip was moving some old, rusty fence wire. He was just making thing neat outside.

He got stuck by a little piece of wire sticking out. I told him to wash it with soap, and water ... put peroxide on it. He didn't think it necessary.

Each day, the little place began to get much redder, 'bigger' red than the day before. He thought it would get better ... it didn't.

Skip came home on the evening of the 6th ... he was having cold chills, shaking all over, high fever. His blood pressure had soared very high. Not only that ... his arm had swollen so big ... huge! I drove him to the Emergency Room.

There ... as soon as the doctor looked at his arm ... and listened to me ... he ordered antibiotics by IV, a tetanus shot, and pain medicine. He told Skip that he had almost ... waited too late.

'Too late' ... meaning the infection could have been fatal. He kept telling Skip that he should have come in earlier, instead of waiting ... 4 days to come in!

Skip stayed in the hospitals on continuous antibiotics for almost 5 days! He was in really bad condition. When his doctor came to see him, she told him about waiting as long as he did. She told him that it could have turned into sepsis, and be fatal.

I was talking to a nurse ... she told me that when you break the skin, you need to wash it out 'right now' ... with soap and water. Even 'squeeze' the wound a little to let it bleed some.

I have learned so much through the past week ... I will always run to wash a wound if I become hurt. I keep thinking how in 'old days', this was one of the things that ... killed people. No one would really know why someone died. People didn't know to wash their hands, much less ... wash a wound out when cut on something.

Skip is home, now. Thankfully, he's going to be alright. He is now, on oral antibiotics for a week. We both know to wash any wound out as soon as possible ... to keep from getting a fatal infection. Skip almost ... died.


Photo/Story Credit: Owned by Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee


Note by this author: 2014 ... My husband, Skip ... got stuck by the wire on August 3rd ... he didn't seek medical attention until August 6th. He was immediately put on IV with antibiotics, admitted.

He stayed on antibiotics, shots in his stomach to keep blood clots from forming. Medicine to bring down his blood pressure; medicine for the really bad pain in his arm. He had become confused from the high fever he kept for several days. He got to come home the evening of August 11th. He is on two different oral antibiotics for another week.

Remember, you can prevent this from happening to you. Simply wash any break in the skin with soap and water. Myself ... I would put some peroxide on any wound after I wash it .... strictly what 'I would do to myself'. I'm not a doctor, so ... I can't advise anyone.

If you would like to know more ... Google 'cellulitis' ... and 'sepsis'.  If you ever see redness around the wound begin to ... spread ... get to the doctor!