Death Camp Dreaming

This is a bit off topic for my blog but I hope you enjoy it all the same. The next post will be back on track I promise.

Ruby thrashed in cold sweat under a net of tangled sheets. Terrified panic smothered her, gripped her throat, squeezed it hard. She bolted upright and gasped heavily for cool, calming air. Sweet relief washed over her as she turned to check she hadn’t woken Jack. He was not in their bed. She strained to hear people whispering downstairs.

“Oh Rubyyyy” his eerie voice gently beckoned. “Pull on some clothes and come down, darling”.

Her husband’s cheery tone confused her, intrigued her, she slipped into a dress and floated over the stairs to meet him. He was absolutely filthy, like he had been buried alive wearing an old top hat and coat tails. He took her hand, and with a crooked smile and sweeping chivalry, ushered her to their backyard.

As soon as they stepped foot outside glaringly bright daylight stung her eyes and scorched her skin. Dazed, dizzy, she squinted to see a throng of zombies milling around them, shuffling in stoic unison toward a red brick building. Their low, droning voices a swarm of bees circling her head. She hesitated.

“Oh, don’t worry my dear”, he said, excitement pitched his voice high. “We’re going for a wonderful shower”, he threw his arm out with grandeur, encouraging Ruby to soak up the beautiful, warm atmosphere. Her stomach sank as she took it all in. The dust. The perfectly lined rows of barns and houses. The workers. The uniforms. The putrid stench of death.

Their clothes had vanished.

Her heart raced as turned to fight through the brain-dead crowd. Her house was far away behind them, a beacon in the dark shadow of night. She reached out for it, willing it to be closer. The tide held her steady, her husband grabbed her and violently tossed her into the building.

“Just a wonderful shower”. He sneered bringing his face a centimeter from her own. The Cheshire cat grin showed her a mouth half full of disgusting, rotting teeth. She recoiled and spun around, there were no showers! The crowd crammed in. Daylight filtered through holes in the roof. A door slammed shut. Ruby couldn’t move. The droning buzz escalated to shrill, gut-piercing screams, echoing off the concrete walls. The noise rose and rose, drilling in her head, it was sure to explode! She closed her eyes tight and screamed. Everything snapped.


The absolute calm and silence of a gentle, cool breeze stirred the midnight air. Bewildered, she slowly opened her eyes to find herself thigh deep in their swimming pool, her summer dress dancing gracefully in the glassy water. She stiffened at his presence.

“Hello, darling” her husband hissed, his breath on her neck shooting a shiver up her spine. She froze, barely breathing, waiting for him to make his move.

Cobra hands shot to her neck and ripped her clean out of the water. He forced her head under water while she thrashed and fought and tried desperately to plant her feet. She found the floor, and pushed herself up with all her strength but the concrete crumbled beneath her and fell away. Jack floated above the surface, a distorted, grimacing face, laughing at her with his hands firm on her throat. A scream welled in her lungs, she opened her mouth to let it out and everything went black.

Ruby thrashed in cold sweat under tangled sheets. Terrified panic smothered her, gripped her throat, squeezed it hard. She bolted upright and gasped heavily for cool, calming air. She turned to check she hadn’t woken her husband and found herself alone in her single bed. She breathed a heavy sigh of relief and smiled as she hit the snooze button.

Today, she would be a little late for school.


The house sighs heavily through open windows, empty without you, shivering loneliness blots out the searing midday sun. The television flirts loudly for my attention, but I barely notice, checking my phone compulsively, wondering why you are so late. Agony rises with the tick of the clock. My stomach, heavy like a stone, warns me you wont show. Tears prick my eyes and my throat, it chokes, how could you stand me up like this?
There is a knock on my door, I leap to attention, it’s you! Apologizing profusely, kissing me on the cheek. It’s fine!, I smile, foolish for doubting you mere moments before. There is no time to offer you wine. I need you in my arms.
We lay together in my bed, our skin tingling with electric heat,
ecstatic to feel our warm embrace, to smell our hair, to touch our skin.
You frown at me. “I love you, you know”
I nod in mute sadness, it wretches my heart, furrows my brow. You kiss me tenderly to pacify me, to tell me we’re going to be alright.
Dusk swallows my cosy nest, how quickly the day passes with you in my arms! Dread clutches me as the night quickly falls. I can’t bare for you to leave but nor can I beg you to stay. We both know that by now you should be at home with your husband.

The Versatlie Blogger and Liebster Blog Award

What a shock! I’d like to thank the awesome DetrimentallyDisgruntled for nominating me for both!! ๐Ÿ˜€ Her posts, illustrations and art are incredible, they always make me so very happy. Check her out if you haven’t already!

So, now I’m meant to reveal seven things about myself and nominate fifteen more blogs for the Versatile so here we go:

*I really dislike cats.

*I put tomato sauce on almost everything I eat.

*My partner is British.

*I love all things Japanese.

*I am a licensed pyrotechnician. Early next year I’m getting my explosives license too ๐Ÿ˜€

Well, that was awful. 5 is enough.

Now, I’m pretty new to this so I don’t follow many blogs yet, also I have a habit of doing things by halves (I write short stories for a reason) so instead of 15, I’m nominating seven. Most of these I follow for a damn good chuckle. Here are the awesome seven:

The Mainland


Boggleton Drive

The Hook

The Dissemination of Thought

The Dingleberry

Nicole and Gwendolyn (not for comedic value)

For the Liebster Blog Award:

  • Firstly, one must thank graciously the blogger who bestowed the reward upon them
  • You must pass on the award to five other bloggers; however, they must have less than or exactly two hundred followers
  • Naturally, you must then let every nominee know that they have been given the award
  • You must display the award on your blog

Again, I’m doing things by halves here. The 3 I have chosen for this one are:

OccultoAntonio: his art is amazing!

NicoleandGwendolyn A powerhouse of support and information for those trying to recover from an E.D.

Dissertations of the Heart Soulful and moving.

Thanks again to Becky for nominating me!!

Post natal disturbance

I hope you had a nice chuckle at my last postย  because you may find this one disturbing. Consider this fair warning.

Their nursery bathes in the soft glow of the late afternoon sun. I watch the impostors as they sleep, my shirt rigid from months of tears, my fragile mind crumbling in my dusty skull. They have sucked me dry and left me void, those greedy little leeches, how could they possibly be my sons?

I sit for an age, huddled in a shadowed corner, afraid to touch any of their belongings. They would be so mad at me if I touched their things.

Awake seconds apart, they begin to cry out for me. The noise of their shrill, demanding screams drills angrily into my head. I crawl into their closet for refuge and close the door behind me. Burying my head in my arms and rocking quietly in the darkness, I “shush” myself until calmness comes.

Time passes by, how much I can not say and the noise outside stops. I cautiously open the door and approach the boys’ cribs. They smile and laugh at me, tormenting me, I yell at them to stop being so awful, so evil. I fantasize about throwing them hard against the nearest wall and leaving them in a heap on the ground. Panic strikes, forcing my throat to burn and my head to spin. I turn and run for the phone to call my husband.

“It’s happening again” I whisper into the receiver. “I need to see a doctor!! I need some medication”.

“You know my family don’t believe in medicating” he told me. “Trust in our Lord and he will get you through”.

He swiftly hung up on me as he always does. The shun paralyses me. I let the receiver fall to the floor while reality slips away.

I sit soaking wet on cold tiles, hugging my knees as I stare at water dripping from my overfilled bathtub. I don’t need to peer over the edge to know what is in there. The house is so dark, so still and eerily quiet. I just sit in a catatonic state, waiting for someone to come and get me and take me away.

the greatest thing to EVER happen (I’m only slightly exaggerating)

I am not a woman that has time for shallow, high maintenance, “girly” girls who have their heads stuck up their asses and barely 2 brain cells to rub together. No time at all! So, I was very annoyed at my friend Ryan when he forced me to socialize with one of these abhorred creatures. He had been sleeping with this person and wanted to introduce her to me, my boyfriend and a few of our other mates.

We met up in a rowdy Irish bar in central Auckland (her disdain evident) when she looked down her nose at me and began harping on about how disgusting she thought tattoos were (while looking directly at mine) and probing me as to what I’m going to do to hide them when I’m “like, all old and shit”. It occurred to me that I really, really wanted to push her down a flight of stairs. However, I’m not violent, so I just smiled sweetly (sarcastically) and told her to mind her own business.

After a few drinks we decided to head to another bar up the road. Now, Auckland is a trashy town. You can’t walk up Queen St at 2am without having to dodge a little vomit and a couple of people passed out on the foot path. Kiwis tend to go a bit over board in the drinking department. The only place I’ve found that is much, much worse is the Gold Coast in Australia, but that’s an entirely different story. For now, it’s back to the snobby bitch princess…..

We were walking down the street, separated from the boys who were talking loudly a few meters ahead of us. She was in the middle of bragging about how her loving parents buy her a brand new puppy (?!) every year for Christmas when *BAM!!!!* She slipped and fell flat on her ass in a pile of someone else’s freshly splattered chunky spew! I burst into laughter so hard tears rolled down my face while she sat, stunned and on the verge of tears herself, her ankle twisted in her huge heels, underwear showing and putrid vomit soaking into her slutty dress. It was priceless.

The boys up ahead were furiously debating something and didn’t realize what had happened so I just walked off and left her there.

By the time Ryan went back for her, she’d disappeared. Oh well. ๐Ÿ˜€

Sweet Jane

Swallow your wishful thinking, kitten! There’s no escape from me.

I whisper sweet lullabies over your shoulder, my beckoning breath clings heavy, doesn’t it?

Feel the anxiety as it crawls inside you, the nausea, the sweat that pricks your skin.

You need me, you see, I’m your Sweet Jane. I just want to make you better, kitten. Don’t you want to be better?

Watch me laugh in your mind, I dance and twist, I’ll haunt you and taunt you and tease you ’til you come to me….

And it’s only a matter of time until you come to me.


for love or money

His head spun his skin grew hot. Misery clawed at his heart and choked his throat, forcing his eyes to well, his stomach to heave. He fell to his knees and scrambled for a rubbish bin to vomit in.

“It’s all gone” he thought through fat sobs.

He had wanted to fall in love again for 10 years, a desperate shell with a rusting heart, clinging to hope so it would not slip away from him. His wife would want him to move on, he knew, and it had been so long since her passing, but how could he even begin? His friends suggested an agency, since speed dating and “just meeting people” were absolutely off the cards. He could never convince any woman to date him without some outside help. So he searched for and found one.

The dating agency set him up with a lady named Lily. He had paid a huge fee for the guarantee of a match, as it was something he could not resist. She had indeed been ideal. Charming. Beautiful. Funny. Youthful….. Perfect. He could not wipe the smile from his face after their very first meeting.

His infatuation with her took hold, the heady feeling of being in love swallowed him, he was desperate to feel it forever. The agency could take care of the wedding plans, it was agreed, for a fee…

But then she disappeared without a trace. Leaving him devastated and sleepless with concern for her safety and his near breaking heart. The agency would head an investigation for him. For a lot more money…

It had gotten away from him so quickly that he now found himself bankrupt. All his money was gone, and so was Lily.

He guessed she had been a figment of his desperation all along.

This is from a news headline. I would like to add that the man in this story was taken for over $3million. A court has ordered the “agency” and woman to return it to him.

stirring in the strip club

She said her name was Angel but I really didn’t care. Her cleavage was incredible and although she looked great in lingerie, I wanted to see her naked. After flirting for ten minutes she asked for $50, which I gladly paid, and then led me into a dimly lit private room with an old leather couch.

She was obviously horny when she told me that it was against the rules to touch her. Her eyes glazed and her chest heaved so I knew she wanted me to, I just wasn’t really supposed to. I told her I understood perfectly, she smiled so devilishly and began to undress a meter in front of me.

She swayed and rolled her hips, coming closer and closer to me, then got on her knees right in between my legs and slid off her bra. She leaned into me, pressing her soft breasts hard against my chest. I could smell vanilla on her skin, coconut in her hair and young, hot blood. My jeans grew uncomfortably tight. She noticed and stood up, turning her back on me. Slowly she eased her g-string all the way down to her ankles, never bending her knees at all. What a perfect sight, her bent over so close to me. She was just waiting for it, for me to touch her.

So I reached out and grazed my fingers between her legs. I didn’t get the reaction I had hoped for. She spun around in a rage and smacked me hard in the mouth, yelling at me, saying I was disgusting. What a fucking bitch! She was practically begging me for it. Two seconds later security grabbed me by the shirt, choking me and dragged me to the exit.ย  He punched me in the face, breaking my nose and knocking me to the pavement. I went to wipe the blood away and smelled her on my fingers. I laughed.

It was worth it.

a noose to hang

This is a true story….

He hadn’t wanted to go into that shed so late in the cold and cursed his mother for not bringing in firewood before she went out. Where was she anyway?! It was too late for a school night. He cursed her over and over until he opened the shed door and jumped at the sight of her figure in the darkness. He fumbled for the light switch.

She had left herself for them to find in agonizingly plain sight, hanging, frozen in death. Her pale face obscured by her auburn hair, her hands, oddly, in her pockets. There was no mystery in her final moments, and no cushioning the blow for her son when he found her.

For a long while he stood, unable to move or breathe or comprehend what his eyes were telling him was real. Finally he snapped and moved to her to save her, to let her breathe and bring her back. He wrapped his arms around her and lifted, easing the tension in the rope, but there was no great gasp for air. With her chest resting on his head he listened for even the faintest sign of her beating heart. Begged for it.


He fell to the floor with a sickening wail, her feet dangling at his head, tears and spit spilling freely to the cold concrete. He felt himself lose touch as he struggled to breathe. Everything spun in his mind, then went black.

His father told him later he had fainted right there underneath her. An ambulance had taken him, but had left his mother where she hanged.

She had not left a note.

a flasher saves the day

Depression weighed my head down and barely let me drag my feet as I tried to jog. I needed some endorphins. Bad.

Ahead of me a pug wandered aimlessly beside the busy road, dangerously close to oncoming traffic. I shuffled lethargically to it’s rescue and picked it up. It had a collar on but I found no owner in sight. However, a nearby gate was ajar and a car in the driveway so I approached the house to see if the pug had escaped from there.

Within seconds of knocking the door swung open and behind it stood a man wearing nothing but sunglasses, his member swinging like a pendulum from the force of the door opening. I struggled to look anywhere but directly at it. The dog was wriggling excitedly so I held it in my outstretched arms and willed the owner to take it so I wouldn’t have to bend down.

He did take it and, after declining his invitation inside, thanked me profusely as I hurried away from his doorstep. I giggled, then laughed hysterically while I tried to pick my feet up to jog. Once I had calmed down my head was a floating balloon and I ran for 30 minutes with a beaming smile on my face.

On my way back to my house the poor little pug was out on the footpath again. I left him there that time.