Thursday, August 27, 2015

Laughter Echoes From the Grave ...

Laughter Echoes From the Grave ...
By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee/@GeeGranny on Twitter

Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny as a young, beautiful woman who never took happiness for granted.

Ha! Ha! Ha!  Did I hear an echo of laughter from the other side?  It came from nowhere that I can see ... I looked carefully.

I just got kicked in the teeth by someone I was told not to trust.  My Grandma Alma told me not to trust that person.  What happens?  Through time ... be damned if she wasn't right!  How did she know?  I thought I heard laughter ... from the grave!

My first cousin told me that I had the wrong impression of someone who used to be in our family ... I thought that person was truly good, and had loved her all through the years.  My cousin tried to warn me by saying, "Gloria, she's not what you think she is".  I would just nod my head showing I heard her.  I never wanted to argue.  I felt sorry for that person ... she only showed me her 'good' side.

My first cousin got killed in a freak accident.  A log truck hit her head-on.  She didn't get to tell me more about the person she told me wasn't who I thought she was.  She didn't have to ... I began connecting the dots.  Oh, how right she was!  Ha! Ha! Ha! Did I hear an echo of laughter?  Did it serve my ass right?

Another first cousin told me about another family member saying don't ever trust that person.  She's the wicked witch of the west.  She'll sweeten you up for the kill, stab you in the back ... eat you!  She'll try to find all your weaknesses, cut your legs out from under you.  Well ... I never trusted that far to find out ... never will.  I never heard an echo ... none at all.  I pray he rests in peace.

He's not the sweet, good person you think he is.  He's been in your family for years, and you think he's so good.  He's really mean, ugly to your ........  he does things he shouldn't ... has, throughout the years.  Why he even went with your .......... 's girlfriends! and ex-wife!  Disbelief ... I learned by seeing, listening to the 'horse's mouth'.

Yes, he did all those things, and more.  Did I hear his laughter from the grave ... do I hear the words, "I fooled you, bitch"!  I hope not ... I always gave respect, geniune love that might not have been deserved ... then again, that person treated me very good.

At one time in my life he made possible for me to have a home to come to as a young woman.  I was, and have always been grateful.  He never treated me out of the way ... never.  So, for the person I thought he was ... I've never regretted loving, respecting him.

He always treated me good ... until at the last.  The last several years of his life ... when I actually saw, heard from his own mouth ... him dating and asking one of my ............'s girlfriends, and ex-wife to marry him.  The reason he wanted me not to see, hear, be around was ... he saw his actions broke my Heart.

He actually told me things ... he was embarrassed but, he had new-found freedom ... I sat, listened quietly ... not letting the pain, grief, disappointment show.  Somebody was right before they died ... I don't hear laughter from ... her grave.  I only feel sadness.

I can't tell you the grief in my Heart for so many close family members who have died ... all in just a matter of maybe 8-10 years ... some dying close together... not only on my mother's side of the family ... on my father's side, also.   That's not counting some of our Pups we used to have, love with our Hearts.  That's not counting the friends we truly loved, cared about.

I truly loved, cared about every one of these people who died ... as a child.  I even loved them after being mistreated by some of them ... I grieved for them after each died.  Strange enough ... the ones I loved most ... as a child ... have died.  The very shaky foundation my young life was built on ... pure crumbled.

There are some family members living today ... I loved them with my Heart as a child ... in adult life ... we'll never see nor be a part of each other's lives.  It's the natural 'hate thing ... natural distrust' we all inherited in our make-ups.  Love is there ... but, there's no way anyone would, could know it.

I have a brother I love who lives not 5 miles away ... I'll never talk to, see him again in his/my life.  I have another brother ... same thing.  Isn't life sad?  There's no way it can happen.  No love, but love-hate ... no trust ... no foundation to meet on ... all crumbled away with time.  Family members being jealous, or in-laws ... separation as children, not growing up together ... no bonds to hang onto.  The young, tender bonds were snapped, stretched through time when growing up apart ... when they broke, that was it.

Life is sad ... this said ... I will say I love each one in my Heart ... I have already accepted such some time ago ... I've coped with it ... and let go.  It's all one can do ... I can't just ... lay down and die because I can't have family relationships ... of course ... I wouldn't.  I've come too far, coped with too much to  ... just give up.  I have my Grandma Alma's fighting spirit ... it isn't there 'for nothing'.

I must have some purpose in life ... though I've never figured it out all these years.  Only once did I 'figure out why' ... when I survived cancer.  That was when I began getting recovering from cancer.

Skip was diagnosed with cancer in the 3rd year I was beginning to grow stronger ... I 'knew' it was for me to care for him just as he did me ... he could see I was recovering from being near the edge of death ... and he could do the same.  I remember telling him right in the oncologist's office after she told him ... 'now, I know 'why' I made it.

I should have died 16 years ago with non-Hodgkins lymphoma.  Skip had colon cancer ... he is a 14 year cancer surviver ... colon cancer.  We survived ... cancer.

Do you know what was most strange about those years of fighting for my life?  Not one family member ... ever knew or acknowledged how sick I was.  They would drive right by the house we lived in ... if Skip happened to have me outside on the porch ... they would wave cheerfully, never missing a beat.  No one ever stopped, nor called.

I am amazed thinking back at that.  My mother would care sometimes ... then, her youngest sister would make her think I wasn't sick.  Jealousy ... pure jealousy.  Her youngest sister always was jealous of any of her sisters' children.  Her tongue was her weapon ... mean, evil words came from her mouth ... yet ... she could say loving words, caring words that would melt my Heart.

She wanted her sisters to always have their attention on them.  The good thing is I wasn't aware of this until several years later.  My mother said her youngest sister would always call me 'The Queen'.I never became angry ... I could only feel deep sadness.  I still loved her.  I wanted her to love me, too. She secretly hated me, was jealous of me.  I won't even go into things she did to hurt me, then pretend she never meant to.  I wasn't the only daughter she did that to ...of her sisters' children.

I could keep on writing as more memories float to the surface like bubbles in the ocean.  My writing begins to go on this path, that path in my life through time.  I will stop here.

Sometimes, when I learn something in life ... or find out something it seems everyone knew but me ... I wonder if I hear echoes of laughter.  Echoes of laughter fromt the graves of my ... loved ones.

Note by this Author:

Photo/story owned, written by me, Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee.

Grief, pain are old friends of mine ... I don't think I ever knew life without them after the age of nine.  They were all I had to hold onto ... happiness were those brief times of sunshine in my life.

Happiness was something I always felt wasn't meant for me ... I used to think I wasn't good enough, important enough.  I never take happiness for granted.  I enjoy it for all it's worth when it happens in my life.  :)  It's sort of like when being a little girl ... I knew Barbie Dolls were for other little girls ... I knew somehow, they were never meant for me.  I, also, knew that other little girls could be in the Brownies ... it wasn't meant for me to.  I knew I wasn't good enough.

It's a good thing we grow up ... cope with painful things in life ... learn to live, handle all.  I think I did well.  :)  That's why when I was beautiful in my younger life ... it meant the world to me ... I was 'good enough' for ... everything.  I had everything and everybody liked, wanted me.  Isn't life sad?

People love material things ... and if they think they can get something from someone ... they will grovel at their feet.  Just watch beautiful, 'rich' people ... just watch yourself ... you will find that you do the same thing.  Life is life ... it is what it is.  You might not like it ... but, it's the way humans are.

Oh ... I wonder if I hear echoes of laughter from the graves of my loved ones?  I remember being told as a beautiful, young lady I used to be told ... 'don't get so high up ... the higher you go ... the harder you fall'.  I fell hard ... Ha! Ha! Ha!

Isn't life sad?

Tuesday, August 25, 2015

Give Me Colors ... Happy Colors!

Give Me Colors ... Happy Colors!
By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee/@GeeGranny on Twitter

Artwork by Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee ... a few wonderful, happy colors in my life!

Sometimes ... when someone ask me, "Gloria, what is your favorite color?" ... it throws me into a big silence.  Why?

Well, I can't be just one color in life.  I love most all colors ... I think in colors ... colors affect my moods, feelings.  Music does the same.  I bet you are the same way if you think about it.

I love soft, pastel colors that have a shimmery appearance ... like magic!  Romance, soft happy thoughts, wishes come true!

I love bold, beautiful, bright colors ... when life is such fun, lots of laughter, loud and happy times such as ... the State Fair!

White ... I love white.  White is clean, sparkly ... wonderful.  Crispness, sunshine ... warm breezes blowing ... ocean, waves.

Purple and green ... strange enough, these two colors in my life at the same time ... bring good luck to me.  Happy things.  Why in the world isn't all I have ... purple and green!

Black and white ... remind me of my beautiful mother.  She could wear black and white ... put on her bright, red lipstick ... no one was as pretty as her.  She and Elizabeth Taylor could have been twin sisters.  I love black, white tiles ... clean, fresh, nostalgic.

I love all the shades of each color, all the colors between.  I can't tell you one color I love best.

I love dusty rose, soft pink, periwinkle blue.  I love colors I don't know the names of.  If you ask me what is my favorite color ... I will say this one!  that one!  no, that one!

Note by this Author:

Colors are important to me.  When Skip and I used to drive through the deserts for hundreds of miles ... I would become upset.  (We traveled by tractor trailer to California every other week). I remember after weeks of doing so ... I began crying ... "I can't take anymore of this brown, I just can't take it, I need color in my life"!

I was color-deprived and it had a very real effect on me.  Like when we were traveling for days in snow ... nothing but white ... it had a negative effect on me, also.

Give me colors ... happy colors!

Monday, August 24, 2015

My Crushes as a Little Girl:

My Crushes as a Little Girl:
By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee/@GeeGranny on Twitter

Gloria Faye Brown

When I was a little girl, I had a crush on the most unusual people.  I've never heard of anyone else having a crush on these people as a child.

I loved Higgins, the butler ... Burl Ives, and Tom Jones, and the guy who played The Fugitive.  I wonder what that meant?

I think looking back to when I was a child ... it meant I loved kindness.  They projected kindness like George, my step-grandfather (the only grandfather I ever knew) ... the kindest man I ever knew until ...

Skip.  Skip is the kindest man I know ... George, Skip, and another person who is our friend.  I've never known any kinder men in my entire life.

Kindness goes farther than good looks, charming personalities.  This is strictly my Gloria Opinion ... God knows I have a lot of them.  Thankfully, I am open-minded ... so, I'm constantly changing with the times.

Yes, kindness means everything.  I'm sure a lot of people like wickedly handsome/beautiful looks before kindness.  I don't, I never have.  This is not to say I've never admired good looks!  :)

Note by this Author:  To win my Heart is to see, hear, feel kindness.

Photo/story owned by Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee.

Thursday, August 20, 2015

Tommy Dragonflies ...

Tommy Dragonflies ...

Here are photos of some new Tommy Dragonflies I'm making.  I make dragonflies, leave them somewhere in public for others to find.

This is how I remember my son, Tommy, who died May 29, 2010 on the beach in South Carolina ... Myrtle Beach.  He was running, playing with his little 3 year old son, collapsed.  No one knew he had 3 blockages to his heart.

Tommy and his family went to Myrtle Beach for a week vacation.  He barely made it safely to Myrtle Beach ... take his little son down to the beach to play with him.  That was what Tommy was looking forward to most ... he told me so, the evening before.  

He said, "Mama, I'm going to the beach and play with my little son for the first time at the ocean".  Tommy had the most happiest smile on his face.  The rest of the family began putting luggage on the portable luggage rack to take by elevator up to their room.  Tommy and Taban, his little son sneaked away!

Tommy and Taban ran, played ... people near by watched this big, gentle giant with a little boy squeal, laugh with his little son.  It made a beautiful picture.

Tommy was sending photos to me back in North Carolina to my computer.  I was home, happy and so thankful my son and his family had made their trip safely in the Memoria Day holiday traffic.

Tommy called me to say, "Mama, we are almost there.  Only seven miles to go"!  I remember taking a sigh of relief that they were safe.  I knew everything would be alright now.

 Not even an hour after Tommy's last call to me ... the phone rang again.  I looked on the caller ID ... Tommy!

Only when I answered, it wasn't Tommy.  I remember asking the man who was this on my son's cellphone. I didn't listen at first to him ... maybe my mind , ears heard what he said at first, I don't know.

When I listened, I heard him say, "Ma'am, I've got a man collapsed here on the sand .... he's not breathing"!  Help me, Skip, help me!

Skip hurried to take the phone, I remember seeing his eyes ... he was alarmed.  I look back at this moment ... that's when the light went out in my world.  The next several years, even to now ... the grief has been almost too much to bear.  Thankfully, time has gone by ... thankfully, I meant to be alright again.  I can't in any way describe the real condition I was in.  I can say horrible, but it in no way even begins to describe that horrible shock, pain, grief.

While I was in what I call the Dark World, I tried so hard to come out of it.  I thought about many things, I didn't think about many things.  How did I even have the sense to begin climbing toward the light.  You would know this more than me.  I wrote throughout this time ... I can't remember writing at all.

I know that writing saved my life ... it's where I went with my thoughts. You were there that whole time ... you are bound to have seen me trying so hard to be positive, to come out of my grief in a good way.  So many of you reached out to me.

Through time I've made it alone ... I only expressed my feelings, thoughts in my writing.  I never bothered anyone in my everyday life.  I am private that way ... also, I know that I couldn't ruin someone's happiness with my grief, unhappiness.  I stayed completely away from people.  

I tried to spare Skip with all I went through.  We are very close ... and we think so much alike that we just go ahead, finish each other's sentences.  I know he knew a lot that was going on inside me ... I didn't have to say a word.

Dragonflies are something Tommy liked.  Dragonflies became most special in my life.  You wouldn't believe the strange, special things we see dragonflies do.  Tommy!  A sign from Tommy?

Dragonflies became my way of remembering Tommy to make sure he's never forgotten.  I make them out of thin, gold wire ... beads.  

I leave them in shopping baskets, counter tops at stores, bathrooms ... anywhere.  You might see one on a bench, chair at a public place.  I leave them with a short note ... remembering Tommy, and my prayer when someone finds my Tommy Dragonfly ... that it brings a smile to their face to find a special treasure ... happiness in their heart.  No strings attached.

I came up with the idea to join my gold dragonflies to the gold-woven wire bracelets I like to make.  Now ... I am making Tommy Dragonfly bracelets.  I am going to try my hand selling the bracelets at the State Fairgrounds next Spring.  I will sell them at a low price so, everyone might want one.  

I won't sell the individual dragonflies I make ... I will always leave them where others can find them in public places.  I will sell only the bracelets.  

This is an update on the Tommy Dragonflies I make.  So much love goes into everyone of them ... I am thinking of my son, Tommy.

Note by this Author:

All photos of my dragonflies, dragonfly bracelets are owned by me.
Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee/@GeeGranny on Twitter.

#Dragonflies  #Tommy Dragonflies by Gloria #Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee

Tuesday, August 18, 2015

Excerpt from Book 2 ... The Saga of Victoria Fairchild by Gloria Faye Brown Bates

Excerpt from Book 2    ... The Saga of Victoria Fairchild by Gloria Faye Brown Bates
From time to time I will put a 'taste of what is coming' in the new book I'm presently writing).


When She's Good ... She's Good is my short story introduction to my main character, Victoria Fairchild.  Victoria Fairchild will walk where the devil won't go ... she has unusual talents.  She's a good person, but ... she's mean enough to take care of business.  We all need people like Victoria.  Don't let her catch you harming others, children, animals, elderly ... homeless.

Excerpt from my second book (I'm still writing) ... The Saga of Victoria Fairchild
Written by Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee ...

He walked into the ocean. Warm waves of salt water washed around his body. He closed his eyes, savored the sensation . Pure pleasure.

He didn't want to forget why he had come here ... he reached to the secret pocket inside his swimming shorts. He walked 100 feet out into the water.

All the while he listened to children laughing, screaming as the waves played with them. Waves were a never-ending babysitter. Children stayed close to them.

He held something in his hand ... clear vial with a red liquid inside. He opened it ... began letting the contents flow out into the water as he walked back to shore.

He smiled an evil smile ... he walked to his towel on the beach, sit down. He laid back on his pillow after adjusting the umbrella.

He'd just started the show ... he was waiting for the actors to step out on stage. He heard it ... the first scream indicating all hell had broke loose. Shark!

Note by this Author: I will begin putting excerpts from my new book here from time to time. I am writing the scariest book I've ever read ... scariest movie I've ever seen. Sick people ... sick situations.

Sunday, August 16, 2015

The End of 328 Baxley Street ...

The End of 328 Baxley Street ...
By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee/@GeeGranny

Author:  Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee ... story and artwork owned, written by me.

Artwork by/owned by me ... Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee.  I did a drawing of Victoria Fairchild, and her cousin ... Lind Lou.

The child sat playing in the sand.  He held a little matchbox car in one hand, and a firetruck in the other.

Bud-um-ummmmmmmm.  He made the sound of a motor as he drove each one on the sand.  He was completely lost in his own little world.

Michael!  Michael, come into the house!  Time to eat lunch!  Michael never heard his mother.  He had become lunch ...

John slipped into the woods unseen. He ran back to his home.  The forest was perfect cover all the way.  He made sure the little boy didn't spill a drop of blood on the way.

Now, he knew his lunch's name.  Michael.  Michael.  He repeated the name in his mind.

John was hungry.  It had been several days since he'd moved to 328 Baxley Street.  He had eaten once since then.  He couldn't wait to get Michael to the kitchen.

Each limb was wrapped in its own package.  The head was in another package.  He began slicing thin strips of juicy flesh off the torso.  John's mouth was drooling ... he couldn't wait to savor the tender pieces of young flesh.

Three bowls sat on the countertop ... broccoli florets, cauliflower, carrots in one bowl ... chopped onion in the second bowl and in the third bowl ... button mushrooms.  John was drooling, damn if wasn't hungry as hell, he thought.  Stir-fry!

The frying pan was hot enough.  John placed the strips of flesh into the frying pan.  Each piece began to crackle, pop in the hot olive oil.

The flesh was done in a matter of moments.  John placed each piece on a paper towel. He dabbed at each strip to be sure each piece was dry.

In another frying pan he stir-fried the vegetables in olive oil until tender.  He added the cooked flesh ... to the average eye it was a wonderful, stir-fry meal.  No one would ever know his secret ingredient.

He washed, dried his frying pans, spatula.  He didn't like any kind of mess in his house.  John looked around his kitchen ... all was in place, countertops spic and span.

John took his plate to the table, went back to the refrigerator to get a soda.  He came back to sit down, began eating.

God, the flesh tasted better than ever.  John closed his eyes, savored the tender meat... vegetables.  It was a good thing he'd placed a napkin in the top of his shirt.  It was soaking wet ... John was drooling heavy.

He finished his lunch.  He cleaned his mess up.  There were several drops of blood on the bottom cabinet door.  He grabbed the bottle of bleach, sprayed, wiped it off with a paper towel.  Now, all was spic and span.  John hated a mess.

John couldn't wait for the night to come.  He would be sitting on the porch, watching the children play.  Today, he had watched the little boy play near by in his yard.  It was too easy to get his lunch today. He was driven by hunger, the need for food ... now.

He heard a knock on the door.  John put a pleasant expression on his face.  He opened the door, smiled big at the man and woman who stood there.  Hello!

The woman had been crying ... John asked her what was wrong.  She asked him if he'd seen a little boy.  Her little boy was missing.  She began to cry out loud.

Michael! Oh Michael, where are you?  The man put his arm around her.  We are going to find him, Martha.

John stood, looking at them.  He had put an expression of compassion on his face.  Oh my! he said. I'll keep my eyes open as I move about the neighborhood, he said.

He saw the woman's eyes go to a spot on his shirt where a piece of stir-fry meat, and carrot had landed as he was eating.  Michael!  He knew there was no way she could know she was looking at a ... piece of her son.

He apologized as he wiped it off.  I was just eating lunch.  The woman never noticed.  She was crying loudly now.

The man asked him to call if he saw a little boy.  He handed John a piece of paper where he'd written their phone number.  We live just next door to you.  Thank you.  I'm getting Martha home, Michael could be there now.

They left.  John wiped the kind expression off his face.  He didn't feel normal feelings.  He had to fake them.  He walked to the bedroom, laid down on the bed.  He was going to take a nap.  He burped up some of the food he'd just eaten ... swallowed it.  Damn that had been good eating.

I was in the darkness of the closet.  The door was opened halfway.  I chose to stay inside. The darkness and I blended together.  I didn't always live in darkness.

I have a beautiful home, husband, pups, and a cousin named Lind Lou Livingston, and my best friends, Ms Nancy, and Mary.  They were my closest family, friends in this world.

Sometimes, when I go out to stop bad things happening to good people, homeless, elderly, children, animals ... I am gone for a while.

Sometimes, someone will say to me in my real world ... Victoria Fairchild, when you are around ... it just seems like good things happen.  Sometimes, I think you are an angel.

I am capable of strange powers.  Even I don't know to what extent.  I surprise myself sometimes. I do what others can't.

I'm mean enough to do what's needed to save, help good people ... innocent people, animals.  I never bat an eye ... I just do what's needed, an eye for an eye ... no more ... no less.    

Lind Lou, my cousin ... also, has strange powers.  We never share what we have the ability to do ... in our family, it's possible one could turn on the other.  It was better to stay secretive, guard ourselves.

Lind Lou and I ... somehow, we stay close ... this always amazed me. I still watched her, too.

She came to visit me, sometimes.  Whenever she did visit, wherever she went, strange things would begin to happen.  I had my suspicions of what some of Lind Lou's hobbies were.  I was biding my time ... I would know for certain if I was right.

I knew John had killed another child for food.  I had followed him in the darkness of the forest to the edge.  He killed the little boy, Michael, as his mother called to him.

I watched John strike before I could act to cut him down.  He had torn the child's throat out with his teeth, thrown his body into a black, plastic bag faster than you could blink your eye.  He was more dangerous, cunning than I had given him credit for.  I was watching him closely now.

As darkness filled the bedroom, I walked close to the bed.  I stood over John, studying his face.  I can see better than a cat in the dark ... nothing escapes me.

John opened his eyes, looked straight into my face never knowing I was there.  He sensed something not right, sat up.  I smiled at him ... cold, dangerous smile sharp as a knife. Soon, John ... soon.

I could take him now, but then I wouldn't have the pleasure of ending the life of a serial killer. I wanted to kill him as he was trying to kill another victim.  Die in the act of taking another child's life.

I stood on the porch in the darkness as John watched with deep interest the children who played close by under the night lights.

He seemed focused on one child in particular.  I heard the other children call him David.  I heard John whisper one word ... "soon".  He smiled an evil smile.

I smiled at him, knowing this was my watch.  He didn't have any idea what he was dealing with.

John began humming in a low voice, got up ... stepped off the porch.  He walked several steps, bent down to straighten his pant leg.  I was slightly puzzled as what John was up to.  Was he going to take the little boy tonight?

John began walking briskly, increased his pace as he walked up the sidewalk right by where the children were running, laughing, playing.

The children saw John, came running to him.  Come play with us, John.  You can be It!

John engaged the children in conversation as his eyes scanned for the chosen one named David.  Where was he?  His tongue wet his lips, a little drool spilled down his chin.  Mmmm-mmmmmmm, he was feeling hunger pangs.

Michael had been a very small child. He didn't last long.  Now David ... was a bigger child.  John knew this boy's young, tender flesh would be tasty.

David sat on a foot tall brick wall that surrounded a flower garden under the night light.  He watched this new neighbor who had made friends with everyone ... not him.  He didn't like John.  John scared him.

Come play, David!  One of the children called out to him.  He wasn't going near John, he felt afraid.

The children pulled John by his hand.  Let's play!  Let's get David and play before we have to go to bed.  You can be It while we run, hide!

David felt fear he'd never felt in his young life.  I walked to stand beside David.  No one could see me. As long as a shadow was close by, I couldn't be seen.  I was a shadow, I was the darkness.

I placed my hand on David.  He was trembling.  I whispered in his ear ... he heard the breeze telling him he would be safe, not to be afraid.

The trembling in his little body subsided.  David told the children he would play with them.  John walked up to David, introduced himself.  He held his hand out for a handshake ... David waited a moment, then shook hands with John.

The game of tag began.  John had to sit on the little brick wall, hold his hands over his eyes ... he had to count to 100.  This was a mixture of tag, and hide-and-go seek.  He would be chasing children to tag them or try to find them.

The game went on for at least 30 minutes.  John told the children he had to go home, it was his bedtime.  The children kept playing until their mothers called them to come inside.

John walked up the sidewalk.  I saw the smile on his face.  John was just before taking a child tonight ... I knew the child ... David.

I have certain limitations ... I can't be at two places at the same time.  I can travel rapidly through the darkness from one place to the other without being seen.

If there was light ... I would have to work my way toward my destination through the shadows, darkness to get back.  I love light, sometimes ... it can be my foe, especially when trying to save a life.

I decided to stay with John instead of by David's side.

At least I would know what he was doing, when he was going to do something.  John went inside his house, took a shower, put on a new change of clothes.  They were all black.  He put on a black toboggan that covered his entire face.  He couldn't be seen by anyone ... but, me.

He walked to the front door, opened it quietly.  John closed it, went to the back door.  He had checked to make sure the children were still outside playing.

He slipped through his back yard, staying in the shadows.  John crossed the street under the shadow of a tree.  He stayed close to bushes, trees so, as not to be seen.

John's eyes searched for the little boy he had chosen for his meals.  There he was!  David was standing not more than 3 feet from him!  He was hiding from the others.

John struck like lightening. So did I.  As he grabbed David to tear into his throat ... John's head flew off in the air.  His mouth was still opened in a biting grimace.

The child turned with fear on his face.  He couldn't run ... he was frozen with fear.  I knew he was safe now ... I could go.

Instead, for a brief moment I surrounded David with my shadow ... filled it with love from my heart. Run, David ... run to your mommy!

The child ran, almost tripped over John's head.  He righted himself, never stopping.  Mommy!  Mommy!

I watched him ... I saw the children come running to him.  Help me!  Something bad!  Something bad!  They followed him to his house.

David got to his front door just as his father opened it.  Daddy!  Daddy!  The father instantly knew something was wrong.  He got down to his knee to look into his son's face.

Little David's eyes were wide, he was in shock.  Daddy!  Daddy, something bad!  He turned, pointed to the way he'd just ran.  His daddy's eyes followed the little boy's finger.

Come show me, David.  David began shaking his head.  I'm afraid, I'm afraid!  His father picked him up in his arms ... show me, son.  I'll protect you.  Nothing can hurt you.

The child pointed the way.  His daddy walked until ... he stopped in shock.  Was that a ... head?

He stood frozen as his eyes found the body the head belonged to.  What the hell!

David's father pulled his cellphone from his pocket.  He called 911.

I seeped into the darkness to spread my shadow.  Nearby red lights, blue lights lit up the night. Excited voices, people running, some taking photographs.

I heard someone say, "The little boy was hiding behind this tree. You can see plainly that this man was going to grab him.  By some miracle that little boy was saved.  I wonder what in the hell cut the man's head off"?

Hey, isn't that the new guy who moved in 328 Baxley Street?  David's father walked over to look down at the head.  It was laying on a white tarp now.  The detective held his light directly on the man's head.

Oh my God, David's father said.  He and the detective looked at each other.  They knew where the other child went.

The detective spoke to someone, they began walking rapidly toward ... 328 Baxley Street.

Photo of When She's Good ... She's Good.  This is a thin book ... it is an introductory to Victoria Fairchild.  I have a copyright for it from Library of Congress.  This is second book I published as an Indie author. 

Note by this Author:

This is introducing Victoria Fairchild once again. She is my main character whom I'm proud to introduce.

Victoria is everyone's best friend ... but only ... if they are good.  Good doesn't mean you can't be bad sometimes ... but, good in that you don't mistreat, abuse, kill others, animals.

I am writing book 2 of The Saga of Victoria Fairchild.  I wrote this story so, my readers could be familiar with Victoria Fairchild.  I will do this at times.  

One can see Victoria Fairchild is an unusual person.

She's everybody's friend ... but, let her hear, see, catch you mistreating someone ... know you are in her sights ... sooner or later, she's going to get your ass.  It's not going to be a pretty picture.

Victoria believes in an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth.  Victoria Fairchild is protective of children, animals, elderly, homeless, good people.

Watch your back if you are bad.  There's always someone bigger, badder than you.

There's someone always meaner than you.  And ... it doesn't necessarily take a 'bad' person to be meaner ... they just know how to take care of business, go on about their own, never think about it again.  Don't kick that dog!

Thursday, August 13, 2015

328 Baxley Street

328 Baxley Street ...
By Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee/#GeeGranny on Twitter

Photo is of our porch at one time, photo owned by Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee

A cool breeze was blowing gently in the leaves.  Birds flew around, some singing their special songs only they could sing.  Sunlight glinted off their glossy black wings.

Car door slamming in the distance ... a child squeals in delight.  One could imagine children running, chasing each other playing tag.  Laughter was in the air.

A plane flew overhead.  The sound of the motor put one into hypnotic state ... sleepy, lazy.  All was calm.

A yellow and green taxi drove up, parked in front of 328 Baxley Street.  It sat for a few minutes ... one could imagine the passenger was paying the driver.  The back door opened ... an average-sized man got out, stood ... looked around.  He leaned back, looked up as he yawned.

The taxi driver got out.  He walked to the back of the taxi, unlocked the trunk, opened it.  He began sitting luggage out on the sidewalk in front of 328 Baxley Street.

The taxi driver glanced at the man, looked back to what he was doing.  Something wasn't right ... he didn't feel good about his passenger.  No, he didn't like that man.  He couldn't wait to be gone.  Damn!  that suitcase stunk!  Like something dead.

The taxi driver nodded his head, got back in his car, sped off.  The man stood there ... he was ready to go inside 328 Baxley Street.

He'd rented the house online without ever meeting the owner.  He'd paid with credit card for a whole year.  He was going to be the best neighbor in this neighborhood.  He licked his lips as he smiled a cold, evil smile ... his eyes were squinted as he looked around.

The man got his luggage inside the furnished house.  He was satisfied with his choice.  He was right in the smack middle of the neighborhood ... whatever happened, the neighbors would know that he ... was the best neighbor around.  He was unaware he was smiling ... an awful smile.

He put the contents of his suitcases away.  He didn't open the one that smelled bad.  He had a special place for it ... down in the basement where the 2 freezers were.  He knew all that was in this house ... he'd done a virtual walk-through online.  The owner assured him that all the furniture, appliances would stay with the house when he rented it.

He took the suitcase downstairs ... sat the suitcase down in front of one of the freezers.  He opened the freezer ... spotless white, empty.  He opened the suitcase, took out plastic containers that had been frozen to protect the contents while being transported.

He could tell by smelling ... he needed to get the tightly wrapped package into the freezer.  He didn't want it to ... spoil.  He resisted the temptation to open it, look at what was inside.

The package went into the freezer.  He went upstairs ... now, it was time to blend into the neighborhood.

All was calm in the neighborhood.  John ... that was his name now ... stood out on the front porch.  He took in fresh breaths of air.  This was going to be the life!

John knew how to blend into neighborhoods.  He had blended into many.  His friends always missed him when he moved away.  He was the best neighbor one could have.

He was a handsome man ... the ladies liked him.  Men liked his firm handshake, his clear ... honest eyes.  John had a way of looking directly into one's face with such sincerity, kindness.  Oh my, how lucky I am to have John for my neighbor!

John loved children.  Children were drawn to John.  Why John would come down to their level ... John loved to run, play ball.  John loved to play games.

John began walking, looking around the neighborhood.  On his first trip out, John made friends with many neighbors.  The children loved John, couldn't wait to see him again.

That night, John sat outside on his front porch.  His porch was perfect ... he could look in all directions, see the whole neighborhood.  The nightlight was just the right light for him ... it didn't shine directly on him when he sat outside.  He took a deep, relaxed breath ... stopped mid-breath ..........

His eyes scanned the big, front porch.  John could see many shadows, he knew no one could possibly be on his porch.  He knew only porch furniture sat in the dark shadows.  What the hell?

For the first time in his life ... John felt fear.  Real fear that he was in danger.  What made him feel that way.  It came from the darkness, shadows on his porch.  John got up, stepped inside the door, turned on his porch light.  He walked out onto the porch.  Nothing to feel fear from here.  He couldn't imagine where it came from.

John turned the light off, went back to sit on the porch.  His breath caught in his throat.  What the hell?  He felt it again ... then, it went away.  He relaxed in the night air, almost fell asleep listening to the happy sounds of children running, playing until time to go inside.

I smiled.  It was me.  I was the shadow in the darkness of the night.  I struck fear in the heart of a serial killer.  John had left shattered lives behind him from every community he lived in.

Children were missing, never found ... parents were left grieving their hearts out ... never having closure.  I knew where those children went ... in the stomach of John.  John had a taste for children ... sweet, tender flesh.

I can't be in all places dark ... at all times.  I can only protect what I can see around me.  For now ... this was my watch.

There are many others like me who live in the dark, watching ... protecting.  Sadly, we can't be all places dark.

People's lives who are saved by a miracle they can't see, understand ... know it was myself, or others like me.  We will protect you to the end.  We are from the darkness, the killing kind.  A good killing kind.  We kill to save lives that are worthy ... from bad, evil people.  It is what it is, regardless of what one thinks.

I placed my attention on John once again ... he sat up straight in his chair.  John felt fear again, he looked around.  No, John would never see me ... he could turn his porch light on all he wanted to ... when the light comes on, the darkness goes away ... so, do I.

John had come here to hunt ... hunt delicious, young children.  This neighborhood was his supermarket.  His mouth salivated while thinking of putting tasty morsels of young meat in his mouth.

John didn't rape children, he didn't torture children.  He only killed to eat.  Isn't that what one is supposed to do when they hunt?  Eat what they kill?  Never waste anything.

John got up, shivering from the cool night air.  He felt the fear again ... shivering more.  He went inside, locking the door behind him.  John never locked his doors ... why would he?  He was the one everyone should be afraid of.

He was hungry.  He stayed hungry.  It was a good thing he'd walked back down to the basement to get the package of food from the freezer.  He knew he'd want a snack tonight.  John went to the refrigerator, opened the door.

A lone package, wrapped in plastic ... sat on the shelf.  The refrigerator was spotless.  A smell of death met John's nose when he opened the door.  It didn't bother him like it would you, or I.  Death ... of young flesh was to him ... like the smell of cured ham is to us.  Damn, John loved that smell!

Like the shadow of darkness behind the opened door of the pantry ... I was there.  I could watch, smell what John did.  This ... I couldn't do anything about.  This deed had already been committed.  I could only watch John as he smacked his lips, drool fall from his mouth as he salivated in anticipation of his meal.

He turned the range on, placed a pan on the eye.  He drizzled olive oil into the frying pan.  As the pan heated ... John placed the contents of his package on the counter.  He unwrapped the package ... a young child's leg lay there.  Plump ... baby fat.

John began slicing thin strips of child's flesh ... wrapped up the remainder.  He placed the wrapped package back into the refrigerator.  The tender strips of child's flesh went into the frying pan.  The aroma of flesh cooking didn't bother me ... it was just the aroma of flesh cooking.

John began to smell deeply at the scent.  He was drooling more, now.  John couldn't wait to sit, chew, savor the meat he'd cook.   So juicy, tender ... the best money could buy.  Only ... he didn't ever have to buy his groceries ... children were always around.  They were a dime a dozen ... and he didn't even have to spend his dimes.

Note by this Author:

Another short thriller story written, owned by me ... #Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee.  Photos owned by me.

I am in a writing mode ... practicing my writing ability once again.  I hope it will inspire to finish my book ... The Saga of Victoria Fairchild.

Wednesday, August 12, 2015

It Was I ...

It Was I ...
By #Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee/@GeeGranny on Twitter

I could hear the arguing before I moved in close to see what was happening.  Under the night light I could see a big, overgrown boy ... really a man ... bullying a young, thin boy.

I cocked my head to my right shoulder.  This would bear watching.  I had no tolerance for bullies.  None at all.

Listening closely, eyes half closed ... I caught the gist of their conversation.  The big guy was threatening the young boy.  He would cut his head off, throw his body into the deep ditch close by.

The young boy was terrified.  His voice shook as he tried to make the big guy understand ... he had no money on him.  See?  He pulled his empty pockets out toward the bully.

I held my head up to watch with interest to what happened next.  The bully stood there.  Oh, he was angry.  He grabbed the little guy up, slung him against the nearby brick wall.  You little son of a b__!

The little guy began to moan.  He tried to lift himself from the ground.  He couldn't.  All his wind had been knocked out of him.  I began to move closer ... no one knew I was there.  It wouldn't have mattered anyway.

The big guy lifted his big boot up to stomp the poor guy into the ground.  The little guy sobbed, he knew he wasn't any match against the bully.  He was going to die this very moment, never see his mama again.  He closed his eyes.

The boot began to come down hard ... before it made contact ... the bully fell to the ground.  He began wiping blood from the back of his head.  He looked around with dazed eyes to see what had hit him.  He'd kill the son of a b___ who did this!

I grinned.  I loved this part.  Normally I would have never given him a second chance.  Besides, the bastard needed to feel the pain, fear he'd been causing to others for some time.  I wanted him to hurt, bleed.  Oh the things I'd been hearing.  The only thing ... was he'd never get the chance to change, learn from his lesson.

The bully stood up, he wanted to kick someone's ass.  He couldn't see anyone.  What had hit him in the back of the head?  Blood soaked the back of his tee shirt.  It felt cold in the night air.

He began cursing.  Come out you mother f____!  Chicken s___ son of a b___!  Damn coward!

I looked toward the little guy.  He sat on the ground, he never ran away when he had the chance.  He was like a deer in headlights ... he couldn't move.

I slipped around in the darkness to be closer to him.  I knew the bully would get his attention on him once he couldn't find, see what had struck him from the darkness.   I stayed inside the shadows, kept the steel sword hidden inside my black cloak.  I didn't want light to glint off it.

The bully's attention was drawn to the boy sitting on the ground.  I watched as the bully came toward the boy.  Just try touching this child, I thought.  I smiled ... it never reached my eyes.  My hand tightened on the sword hidden beneath my cloak.

You little son of a b__!  Get the f___ up!  I'm going to crush you into kingdom come!  The boy drew nearer to the brick wall, using his feet to push his butt along the ground.  He wasn't going to stand up.

Ah-hhhhhhhhhhh!  My man!  The boy was situated just right for me to protect him.  I wanted the bully to take a few more steps ... I was tired of this.  I didn't want to play with him anymore.  He didn't deserve to see how anything felt.

The boy was sobbing, his hand in his mouth.  Neither could see me ... I stood not more than 3 feet from them.  I was the darkness ... the killing kind.  No one ever saw, heard me coming.  No one saw me unless I wanted them to.  I saw no need for anyone to see me now.

The bully went in for the kill ... he began hitting the child in the head.  He jerked the little body from the ground when ... he straightened up, back arched.  His hand reached behind him for his back.

His hand was bloodied.  I knew he was in pain.  My sword struck him in the fleshy part of his side.  I didn't let it go deep ... not just yet.  Now, the bully was mad.

Gutteral sounds was coming from his mouth ... this was one mad mother f____!  This time nothing would stop him from killing the child.  I smiled ...

As he grabbed the young boy up once again ... the bully's head fell from his shoulders onto the ground.  His hands gradually let go of the boy.  This time the little boy fled.  He was out of sight in only a moment.

I could see the head laying nearby.  It was a few feet from its body.  The eyes were staring toward me ... I stepped out into the night light ... it didn't matter, his eyes couldn't see me now.

I enjoyed the night light for a moment before entering the darkness.  Darkness was safety ... it was time for me to spread around making shadows darker with my presence.  You won't know I'm there as I watch over you ... protect you.

In the blink of an eye I can strike to save a life.  Look at the darkness around you ... have you been saved from something, you know not what?  It was I.

Note by this Author:

Photo/short, fiction (thriller) story owned/written by Gloria Faye Brown Bates/aka Granny Gee.