Holidays,  Writing

Almost That Time of Year

Hey y’all. Hope everyone had a great summer. It’s coming to a close for us here in DFW. We’ll still have some very warm days but the leaves on my trees are beginning to change into their fall splendour. I’ve already had to rake up one large pile of leaves in my backyard. School started this Monday past and we’re coming up on our first high school football game of the season. This is important as my second born is a sophomore this year and it will be his first ever high school game he will march in as a member of the band. I think he’s excited about it though he’s denying it vehemently. He’s 16; sixteenagers (my word for the age) deny everything. Life is moving forward and pushing me along with it.

With this week being the beginning of all school activities, including new college ones as well, I have been keeping silent on most fronts. That’s why you haven’t seen much from me in a while. But I am here. In fact, I’m doing some studying on ancient Romans, and reading the philosophy of Hypatia (pronounced hü-pah-tee-ah). No reason for it other than I watched the movie The Eagle recently and I’ve always been fascinated by Rome, its army, its philosophers, it’s religions, and America’s similarities. Plus, I just love history. At one time I wanted to be an archaeologist, and not because of Indiana Jones, although…that did reinforce the desire. But, well, I didn’t. C’est la vie!

The other thing that has been going on has been the story I was writing is complete. I’ve turned it in to my writing circle for a critique then on to edits. I’m very glad it’s over. It was a short write, only about 2500 words, but it was a hard subject. It wasn’t really what I intended in the beginning. It was supposed to be a twisted horror story, kind of like a ghost story sitting around the campfire. It went in a different direction, however (as stories will do), and became more of a transgressive type of tale. I’m beginning to wonder if I wasn’t more influenced by the book I was reading at the same time (Burnt Tongues by Chuck Palahniuk, Richard Thomas and Dennis Widmyer)-very good book but not for the faint of heart or those who need trigger warnings.

And so, since fall is not far away, and Halloween is on the horizon (along with turning back the clocks), I thought I’d share a little bit of the story with you. After all, it might become the new urban myth. I’m not going to give you the title because that will ruin the suspense. Plus, it’s just a short bit. The denouement is waiting in the wings for Halloween. 😉

xo Jesi


“Do it! Now!” the Voice hissed eagerly. Pleasure tinged the tone and its excitement was palpable.

The blade stung sharply as she drew the knife down the length of her arm. She gazed with fascination as a warm, red line sprung up in the furrow. Stacey watched the blood stream from the cuts on her arms. It stained the water a pale pink.

“Yes!” Exultation.

She glanced over the bathtub’s rim. There was no one there. A throaty chuckle hissed around the small bathroom. Maybe she shouldn’t have taken the pills. A movement in the mirror caught her attention. She peered into the glass and her breath caught in her throat. A tall black shadow with golden, phosphorescent eyes gazed at her. Goosebumps pricked her skin and a sense of fear clutched at her stomach. Stacey recognized those eyes. A malicious smile creased the shadow’s human-like face. He began moving towards her but the movements were too graceful for any human.

No! No! No! NO!

Her brain tried to clear the thick fog of sleep that was quickly descending. She couldn’t move. She was trapped in quicksand. All she could see were those eyes. Oh God, how could she be so blind? Eight years…and she’d never suspected.

“Nine, my dear. Today is our ninth anniversary,” the shadow told her. “And you have given me the one thing I’ve always wanted…your life.” Boulders were on her chest and legs; she was paralyzed from the neck down. But her heart pounded, driving ever faster the blood from her body. And draining her of life. The shadow leaned over her in the bathtub, his face close to her ear. “You were always mine,” he said. “But Diane…Diane will be an even tastier prize.”

The last thing Stacey felt before she fell into the void was soft, warm lips on hers and a rush of wind from her mouth.


Jesi Scott is an aspiring writer of novels, a poet, and blogger. She has guest-blogged over at The Well-Tempered Bards, and has a post featured at For Love Of…. Jesi has two poems published in Memories of Mist, a literary anthology, and one published story in a newsletter. She is currently working on releasing her first poetry collection as well as writing her first novel. When not writing, Jesi can be found getting lost in bookstores, singing and dancing around the house, experiencing culture with friends, and generally having fun with her four sons when they aren’t driving her weeping into her closet, which she calls her Padded Cell. She loves to rescue stray bookmarks, as well as books, and has opened her heart to any and all stories needing a home. Archery is her current favorite thing ever but you might want to stand back a little as she still has a tendency to drop the bow occasionally.


        • Jesi

          Oh…I don’t know…maybe because when I was in the fourth grade my stepdad moved us to the country and we had rattlesnakes all over the property we lived on…and I was nearly bitten once. Yeah…they freak me out. LOL

            • Jesi

              Yes and thank you. BUT, I will have you know I am trying to overcome that fear…about two years ago I went to the zoo with Jack, who was 8 at the time and we visited the herpetarium. He walked right up to the guy who was holding a snake and touched the thing without fear. And then he asked me to do the same thing. How could I say no? So I did and I have a pic to prove it.

              • lrconsiderer

                YAY! It might depend on the snake, then. My first experience with a snake was when I was very young – an education session at a local wildlife centre which my mum had taken us to.

                He was a tiny, tiny grass snake and he wound himself around and in-between my fingers and looked at me with tiny intelligent, onyx-chip eyes, and flickered a little black tongue at me.
                The man said that he was smelling me, and tasting me, and that he liked me.

                And I looked into his bright black eyes and fell in love.

                • Jesi

                  Lucky you! I wish I’d had that experience. It sounds like it would have made a much bigger difference to me. My only experience with a grass snake was my male cousins throwing a dead one on me. Yeah, snakes and me…we have issues. LOL

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