Bully, Bully

I finally got back to the Three Word Wednesday prompt this week. I hope y'all enjoy my little story.



“We can do this,” Charles assured the others. “We’ll teach him not to pick on us anymore.”

“But he’s so big,” James replied.

Charles patted him on the shoulder. “I know, but there are five of us.”

James still wasn’t convinced they could pull it off. He had always been on the receiving end of pranks, never the giving end.

“We have to quit being so passive and take charge of our lives,” Charles told them, raising his fist into the air. “Aren’t you tired of being bullied all the time?” he asked.

“Yes!” they answered in unison.

“Then let’s do this!” He demanded.

The other boys looked at each other, still not sure, but caught up in the excitement, and, more than that, wanting to get a little of their own back.

Charles gathered up the supplies and ordered the others to follow him. He knew he had to hurry or they might change their minds, and he couldn’t accomplish the task without them because they were right about one thing. Brett Jordan was big.

They hid beside the school until they spotted Brett leave the gym.

“Now,” Charles told Michael, the smallest of the group, before pushing him forward.
Michael stumbled around the corner, right into Brett’s path. As expected, Brett shoved the smaller boy to the ground and stood over him screaming obscenities.

While he was occupied, the others put their plan into action.

“Go,” Charles ordered, putting the net over Brett’s head. The other boys rushed forward and took advantage of Brett’s shock to pull duct tape round and round his body. Michael then grabbed Brett around the knees and pulled him to the ground. Once he was secured, they put the last strip across his mouth to silence the cursing.

The boys ignored Brett’s mumbling and smiled as Charles took the flag out of his backpack and secured it with more tape into the bigger boy’s hand.

The next morning the school paper showed the bound and gagged Brett laying in the dirt with a black flag sticking up, proudly announcing ‘Geeks Rule’.

Meeting Yourself

Here is my piece for the Three Word Wednesday prompt this week:



Mary wept, tears covering her hands. The daily dose of anger she dished out at her eight year old backfired when he simply said, “I’m sorry, Mom, I love you,” and gave her a hug. The arrow of shame that shot through her pierced her heart and brought her to her knees. It appears I need to stay on my knees a while and pray I can change my ways, she thought, holding the most important thing in her life close.

Fickle Love

Here's my micro fiction piece for Three Word Wednesday this week:

Tom and Charles were sharing some good-natured banter while tossing a ball back and forth until Tom caught a glance from Sarah, causing him to fumble and drop the ball on his bare foot, which led to some undignified hopping around. By the time he looked again, Sarah was gone.  

Top of the Morning

 Here is my piece for the Three Word Wednesday prompts of the week.

Max gave the knife a jiggle. “Damn,” he muttered when the blade broke. “You can’t get a quality knife for anything these days.”

He rummaged in a kitchen drawer, finally finding a suitable spoon, which he used to pry the broken part of his knife out of Tucker’s chest. Once finished, he packed the spoon and both parts of the knife in his carrying case, wiped down the place, even though he knew the cops weren’t likely to dust for prints in the dingy rat hole, and walked out the front door. 

“Little early for that shit, ain’t it?” he snapped as he passed a bum lying in the alley, already half way through a bottle of cheap whiskey. “I’ll never understand some people,” he thought, admiring the sun rising over the heart of the city.

Final Choice

Here is my latest story for the Three Word Wednesday prompt.

Carl knew he didn’t have a choice, Fate had decided long ago his course of action. His indecision was from the fact he had gotten to know these people. He knew he shouldn’t, that it would lead to heartache… or what he suspected heartache felt like… but he did it anyway. He couldn’t help himself.

He never had the option of walking away. That wasn’t the way it worked. You were created, set on a course, and then the end came. His only consolation was that he’d stop the carnage that would have come should he not have been set on his course.

If they knew what he really was, they would shun him; maybe even kill him, which was ironic when you thought about it. In a few minutes, he’d do the job for them.

After one last look around, Carl pushed the button on his wrist, sat down, and waited for the blast.

Shakin' Things Up

Here is my Three Word Wednesday story for the week:


Chelsea swore she would gag if Bart said they had to maintain the status quo one more time. Maintaining the status quo was what got them in trouble in the first place. As far as she was concerned, they needed a major shaking up around here, and she knew just how to make that happen.

All she had to do was omit a few crucial pieces of information in the proposal to the new client, and things would definitely change. She knew the client was not a good fit for the company, but couldn’t convince Bart of it, so, she’d take things in her own hands.

And afterward, if Bart wanted her gone, so what? She already had other firms vying for her services.

Whoever said blood was thicker than had never met her family.

Choices

Long time no see! Sorry I haven't been updating the blog regularly. I'm going to try to get back to it. Here is my contribution for the Three Word Wednesday prompt this week. Hope y'all like it.


Maggie was holding on to her sanity by a thread. Every second that went by, her grip lessened that much more.

She had stepped outside, hoping they would leave her alone. She should have known better. They just followed her. They were relentless.

She had to hand it to them, when they wanted something they didn’t stop until they got it. Even though she admired the trait when they employed it with others, when they turned on her, she could scream. Sometimes she did scream.

Today, she’d had about all she could take. When she removed her hands from her ears, she clinched her teeth at the noise.

“Stop!”

“OW! Mom, Stanley hit me!”

“Quit crying, you little baby.”

“If you throw that rock you’ll be sorry.”

“Oh yeah, what are you gonna do about it?”

Throwing her hands up in the air, Maggie yelled, “Shut up!” Once assured she had their attention, she told them, “You have two choices. You can quit the fighting, shake hands and play nice, or I can get a hickory switch and tan your backsides.” She let it sink in, praying they wouldn’t call her bluff, before asking, “Which do you prefer?”

It was all she could do to keep from laughing when both children looked at her like she’d grown horns. They not only shook hands, but also gave each other a big hug, all the while promising to be good from now on.