Hello to You

Hello to you with silent breath,

I hear your thoughts and struggled quest.

I’m sorry if you feel so bad. I’m sorry if you don’t feel glad.

I’m sorry if you feel so empty. I’m sorry if your dreams are heavy.

I’m sorry that you hate hope too. I’m sorry that depresses you.

I’m sorry if things didn’t work out. I’m sorry if the time ran out.

I’m sorry if you waste the days, waiting for grey clouds to rain.

I’m sorry if you feel alone. Sorry if you hate your phone.

Sorry if you’ve been betrayed, felt a loss, called deranged.

But there’s not much that I can do, except to say I’ve felt that too.

And when we breath with heavy chests with thoughts of lonely and great unrest,

And when we suck and can’t do shit and all is wrong and life’s a bitch,

That’s when you need to stand and say, “There’s still a chance, so fuck the grey.”

Because from deep anguish your heart rises, from great loss new hope surmises.

From your hatred of yourself, from your knowledge of no help, 

Comes a force from deep within, it helps you out, it’s why you’ll win.

For what more can they say to you, when you’ve lost all yet pulled on through?

You will win and shout and say, “I felt the loss, I did decay, I was depressed, I did delay. But then one day I stood and saw, a heart’s as heavy as its boss. Sorry folks but I refuse to curl all up and amuse you. No more laughing, no more scoffs, I’ve come to tell you no man’s lost.”

For on that day when they beat you, push you down, leave you bruised. You can rise if just you know it, turn around and make them notice. As much pain is in your chest as bad as hurt feels from this test, as much as God sounds like nonsense and as low as you feel from the rest, if you just rise and please believe – You only lose if you don’t breathe. 

– Thomas M. Watt

The Crowds

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Weary achy tired mood.

Lips of others sound no good.

All this speaking of bull-shit, too much saying your thoughts I quit.

What ever happened to that one kid who said what he said and did what he did?

Where are the people who used to laugh loud because something was funny and they just messed around.

What’s wrong McWatty? Why don’t you laugh? Don’t you know cheese goes to mightiest rats?

I’ll tell you right now because I don’t jive with that. I care little for respecting big bears with big hats. I care nothing for circles who speak this and that. I like to talk about real thoughts and speak. I like to listen and help fill some needs. I like to build to grow and to share. For some tearing down I do not ever dare. 

Hello big crowd I see you’re all laughing. Sorry to say I find mighty rats nasty. As far as the bear with big hats and the claws, as far as the way social groups talk – Not down with it. Not up with it either. I’ve been on the bottom and I’ve met something deeper. You know who He is so I don’t have to say it, but one more last thing I save my laugh for later.  

– Thomas M. Watt

The Worst Kind of Marriage – Part 6

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Missed the beginning? – Click below

“What the fuck are you doing?” said Huerto. He was holding Amanda up, his fist clenching her hair.

Bethany concealed the knife behind her back. She did not want the sick-kidnapper to know she found it.

Four months since Bethany was taken from her normal life. Amanda just arrived, and it was Huerto’s intention to make a wife out of her. Bethany already was.

Huerto pointed the gun. “What do you got there honey?”

Bethany swallowed and looked at Amanda. The teenager’s face was bloodied from the beating. Her eyes were down and her blond hair was layered with red streaks from Huerto’s wet fingers.

“A good wife doesn’t hide things from her husband.”

Amanda lifted her chin. Her mouth was agape and jaw looked off center. She shook her head slowly side to side. She asked Bethany earlier not to put her life at risk.

Bethany bit her thin lips and squeezed her eyelids together.

“WHAT DO YOU HAVE?”

She sniffed. “A knife.” Bethany looked at Amanda again. The poor blonde girl wanted to live. She deserved to live and who was Bethany to jeopardize that for her.

Huerto spoke through gritted teeth. His face was pockmarked and his toupee a puffy bread loaf. “That’s not good of you dear. Not good at all. Bring it here.”

What is life?

“Now,” said Huerto.

Life is freedom. Life is laughing. Life was hers until Huerto took it away. Now he was going to take Amanda’s.

“Honey?”

Bethany stepped forward. This isn’t life.

“Give it here,” he said, dropping Amanda and flapping his hand together.

I’m already dead.

“Very good dear,” said Huerto, as Bethany took the knife from behind her back and slowly moved it towards his hand. “Now-”

Before Huerto could finish, Bethany swung the knife up and sliced it across his jugular. The rifle shot once into the dresser and he fell back. Blood sprayed everywhere and he knocked porcelain plates and china to shatter. He tried to yell but only sputtered blood and babble came out. Huerto swiveled his head side to side and stomped his heel into the ground. A puddle of blood oozed onto the wood floor.

“Let’s go!” Screamed Amanda. She stood and ran out.

Bethany took the knife and ran after her. She locked the door to the room once they exited and ran down the stairs. They smiled and reached the front door and heaved to pull it open then realized something.

The front door locked from the inside. The windows were all boarded up. Everything needed a key and they didn’t have a key. Huerto had the keys. All the keys. He also had a rifle.

The girls looked at each other.

“Do you think he’s dead?” said Amanda.

“He’s gotta be,” said Bethany.

A loud ‘thump’ came from upstairs.

Part 7, Coming Soon!

– Thomas M. Watt

How To Write

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Morning comes, nights fly by, hour-to-hour and most words die.

Don’ t stop writing, no I don’t, trying hard to get much wrote.

Never tire, always sweat, not quite happy, not quite upset.

This is the life of trying hard, of perseverance, of living poor.

Simple style, basic’s best, no need to shout or pound your chest.

Learn a thing or two from me – don’t worry much, don’t reach to deep.

Things are simple, yes they are, the heart is gold, the brain it lies.

Listen careful, see me speak, hear my eyes, confused I think.

All right one more I’ll end with this –

If you want to write just never quit.

– Thomas M. Watt

The Worst Kind of Marriage – Part 5

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Missed the beginning? – Click below for Part 1

Bethany finished up the stairs. She entered the room first, while Amanda followed behind. Huerto, The sick pervert who had kidnapped each of them and called himself a husband, was in the back, carrying his rifle with him.

Bethany looked to the bed. Her puddle of blood still remained. She clenched her stomach wound. She was dizzy.

Get a hold of yourself.

Bethany squeezed her eyelids closed, grimaced, then remembered she had one chance to escape.

Find the knife.

“Ok my little lady. Are you ready to get our wedding underway?” Said Huerto to the young blonde teenager.

Amanda sniffed, but did not answer.

“I love you, you know,” said Huerto.

Amanda sniffed again.

“Say you love me bitch!”

Huerto smacked the young woman across the face with his rifle. After she kept at a hunch and he started to swing again.

“HEY!” Said Bethany.

The pock-marked Huerto stopped. He looked at her funny, smirked then raised the barrel in her direction. “What was that, honey?”

“Don’t hit her.”

Huerto shifted the bolt handle then locked it down, loading his rife. “Dear, I’m beginning to wonder if you’ve forgotten how this relationship works. Have you?”

Bethany looked down. She spotted the bloody knife. It was on the ground behind Huerto.

“I’m the master, you’re the slave. Right?”

Bethany gulped. She looked at Amanda.

Amanda barely shook her head. “No,” she mouthed with her lips.

“Right?” said Huerto, holding the gun to Bethany’s pale cheek.

She finally nodded.

“All right, great!” He hugged Amanda in close with his free arm. “Let’s get the ceremony underway. Are you excited baby?”

Amanda didn’t answer.

Huerto threw her headlong into the desk near the window. “I said, are you FUCKING excited!” He walked over to her then kicked her in the stomach.

Bethany looked at the ground. The knife was in plain sight, and Huerto’s back was to it.

“ARE YOU?” Screamed Huerto.

Amanda cried.

Get it. Get the knife.

Bethany started after it, but as soon as she did Huerto whirled around and loosely aimed the gun at her. “Where are you going?”

Though she was curled up in the fetal position, Amanda bit Huerto on the front of his shin.

“Ahh!” He returned his attention to her and smacked Amanda in the ribs with his barrel.

Bethany moved fast, too fast. When she reached for the knife she kicked it instead. Over shoulder she saw the painful expression on Amanda’s face. The young girl bit Huerto’s leg again anyways, and dealt with the repercussions.

The knife had slid under the dresser. Bethany crouched to her hands and knees and reached for it. The blade cut her fingertip and she felt it spin away.

C’mon!

She could hear Amanda getting pummeled. Time was running out. Bethany lowered all the way to her stomach, felt around underneath, then finally took hold of the handle. She shimmied her arm back out, knife in hand. She gritted her teeth, shot to her feet, then turned around.

“What the fuck are you doing?” said Huerto. He was holding Amanda up, his fist clenching her hair.

Part 6, Coming Soon!

– Thomas M. Watt

The Worst Kind of Marriage – Part 4

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Part 1 –

Part 2 –

Part 3 –

Bethany was locked in the closet with Amanda, the young bible-clenching girl who had made the terrible mistake of knocking on Huerto’s door.

“We need to get out of here,” said Amanda. She was blonde and had a fresh black eye.

“I know.”

“Can we? I mean, how has he managed to keep you here?”

“Every window is boarded up. Every room is locked from the outside. He’s always within reaching distance of his rifle. And he never has any visitors over,” said Bethany. She’d been locked in the house with Huerto for four months.

Amanda swatted the hanger poking her. “What happened to you? I mean… why did he stab you?”

Bethany swallowed. “We got in a fight this morning.”

“About?”

Bethany felt her wound and winced. She stood at a hunch – upright hurt too badly. “I asked to go outside. Even if it meant having a gun in my side.”

“And?”

Bethany looked down and ran a hand straight through her dark hair. “And he got upset, picked up a knife, then stabbed me.” She sniffed. “A minute later he got out of bed to ‘make us some breakfast’.”

Amanda’s face went blank. “What kind of man is he?”

“He’s not a man,” said Bethany. “He’s a coward. A sicko with a gun.”

“I wish I never came here.”

A shout came from the other room. “Marriage ceremony! Later today, Huerto and the bitch with the bible!”

Bethany shot a glance at Amanda. “Marriage ceremony…”

“What?”

Bethany swallowed. “I know what he’s about to do. He’s going to wed you with the rifle barrel pressed to your temple.”

“So?”

“So,” Bethany said, licking her lips before going on. “So maybe that’s my time to do something. I remember where the knife is that stabbed me. If I can manage to get hold of it in secret, maybe I can kill him before he knows what hit him.”

“But won’t that put me in danger?”

“What?” said Bethany.

“If you lunge to stab him when his gun is at my head he’ll shoot me, and I’ll die.”

Bethany bit her fingernail.

“C’mon,” said the teenage girl. “You can’t take that risk-“

“In all the time I’ve been here, not once have I had the chance to hurt him. Today I’m either going to bleed to death or fight back. What would you do?”

Amanda looked terrified.

“What?”

“Please don’t get me killed.”

Before Bethany could respond, the lock clicked and Huerto swung the door open. “Wedding ceremony, upstairs!” He pointed his rifle at Amanda. “Get out.”

He waited for Amanda and Bethany to exit, then walked behind them. Bethany led the way, eyes glued ahead. Blood continued to drip down her nightie and the pain was getting worse. She could feel her legs shake as she stepped up the stairs.

Her eyes were dark, as was her hair, but her skin was pale. As they reached the top of the stairs her breath intensified. A strange feeling mixed with all the pain, fear and anger she’d had to live, day in, day out.

It was hope.

Part 5, Coming Soon!

 – Thomas M. Watt

 

The Worst Kind of Marriage – PART 3

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Part 1 –

Part 2 –

Bethany was in the closet, towel wrapped around her mouth and her bleeding stomach in her hands. Bethany’s husband, Huerto, had locked her inside. He was also the twisted man who stabbed her.

She listened in as he opened the front door, and hoped to God the visitor was a policeman.

“Hello? Can I help you?” said Huerto.

“Good morning sir, I just came to talk to you about the good book.”

“Oh?”

“Do you mind if I come in?”

There was a brief pause. “You know what, fine. Come on in,” said Mr. Huerto.

Bethany wanted to cry. She wanted to pout and shout or punch her fist into the wall but she knew it was too late. No matter what sound or shriek she made it would do nothing to help. As soon as she heard the door fasten close, she knew all hope was lost.

“Why don’t you come in here little lady,” said Huerto. “Got something I’d like to show you.”

Despite knowledge of her effort’s futility, Bethany started smacking around in the closet chaotically. She screamed as loud as she could, though her voice never left her head. She flopped around, whacking the clothing all around her, and began kicking the door as loudly as she could.

The door to the closet swung open. A chain rattle swiftly and an overhanging lightbulb turned on.  She saw Huerto’s pock-marked face. He wore a brown wig like it were a loaf of bread, and always wore one of those blue button downs with the birds and flowers. Huerto slapped Bethany across one cheek, then the other, before finally throwing the young teenage girl visitor at her. Holding the bible into her chest, the young girl had a black mark on one eye and a towel wrapped around her mouth. She met eyes with Bethany.

Huerto rubbed his hands. “All right, all right. I’ve never had two wives before. Hmm.” He laughed, then pulled them both in for a hug. They didn’t hug back.

“Well, you two wait here while I go figure some stuff out. I’m excited to have you at the Huerto residence Amanda.

Amanda tried to yell, but it expelled like a hum.

A tear ran down Bethany’s cheek.

Huerto smiled, poked Bethany in the tit with the barrel of his rifle, then shut the door to the closet and locked the two of them up together.

Bethany reached out and hugged the girl, who began shaking convulsively. After wrapping her hands around her head Bethany managed to undue Amanda’s towel. Not that it would do any good, a shout was only as good as its nearest set of ears.

After a lengthy struggle, Amanda returned the favor and removed Bethany’s gag.

“I’m Bethany.”

“How long have you been here?” said Amanda.

“Too long.” She looked down, then back up again. “I’m sorry.”

Amanda looked away. Her lower lip was trembling. “What’s going to happen now?”

“I don’t know. I need to get treatment.”

“What happened?” said Amanda, before noticing the river of blood staining Bethany’s gown. “Oh my…” She covered her mouth and her blue eyes widened. She looked mortified.

“Fight with the husband.” Bethany smiled as best she could.

They laughed. Weakly, but they laughed.

Part 4, Coming Soon!

– Thomas M. Watt

THE WORST KIND OF MARRIAGE – PART 2

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The blood from the knife wound drenched her nightie. She looked over to her husband, the one who had stabbed her. He tilted his mug back and had a sip of his coffee. He was reading the Sunday comics until he noticed her gaze, at which point he raised his eyebrows.

She smiled as best she could.

Four months of this now. Four months since he had found her walking and forced her into his van. A gun to her head the entire ride over.

Play it cool. 

That was what did her in. Play it cool. A lot of good that did. From the moment she set foot in his house she was finished. Every window was boarded up with blinds to keep outsiders from peeking in. A lock on the front door to which only he had the key. She was only allowed in the backyard under his supervision. His supervision was a pointed rifle.

She hated him.

Huerto was his name. The first day he forced their ‘marriage’. The ceremony was him forcing his grandma’s old wedding band onto her finger. Huerto declared them husband and wife.

With the barrel pointed at her head, she said, “I do.” With the barrel still pressed to her head, she received his kiss.

Bethany looked over to Huerto. He was still at the kitchen table tearing a white napkin into little pieces. She moaned softly, so that only she could hear, and felt the bloody wound again. Her vision was beginning to blur. Her strength was already depleted. She leaned against the counter top and looked around to all the boarded windows. She sniffed.

A knock came to the door.

Huerto immediately looked to her, eyes wide. He picked up his rifle from its lean against his thigh, brushed his hands off each other and stood up.

“Let’s go,” he said.

He shoved her several times as she struggled to walk. She passed the front door biting her lip, begging beyond hope that the door-knocker would just barge in and spot her. He didn’t.

Huerto threw her into the closet. Quickly he wrapped a towel tightly around her mouth, then stuffed it into her bite.

The doorbell rang three times.

“Don’t say a fuckin’ word,” Huerto said, pointing his finger.

Bethany gulped.

Huerto shut the closet door and locked it behind. She was engulfed in darkness. Blood oozed from her wound onto her thigh. ‘Police,’ she whispered in her mind. ‘Please, be the police.’

She needed to get out.

Today.

Part 3, Coming Soon!

– Thomas M. Watt

The Worst Kind of Marriage – Part 1

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Bethany looked down at the knife in her stomach. She bit her lip, breathed heavily, then heaved it out. She muffled her cry as best she could, then got out of bed.

Her nightie was drenched in blood. Her steps came slow and carefully. She entered the kitchen and stood at a hunch over the counter-top. She coughed up blood into the sink.

“How are you this morning?” Said her husband, eating toast at the kitchen table.

She looked at him, then returned to the sink and spat blood again.

He laughed. “Well, I feel better. Sorry about our little tiff earlier.”

She started to cry.

“I guess I got a bit carried away. All that talk about seeing other people,” he said, pausing to crunch the toast in his mouth. “It kinda just makes me jealous.”

She swallowed, and stared at the window. It was still boarded on the inside, and hidden behind blinds to the outside.

“I need… treatment,” Bethany finally managed.

Her husband walked over to her. He stood behind and wrapped his arms around her, then licked his tongue into her ear. “Treatment’s right here, baby.”

“No,” she said. She tried to push his arms away, but she lacked the strength. “I need… hospital.”

He stepped back. “I thought we were done discussing this? I thought you agreed it was best not to see other people?”

She sobbed and sniffed. “It is… it is. I just… Just for a little. Just so I don’t die.”

He laughed again. “C’mon, honey! You know I can’t trust you with that! What’s gonna happen when they start asking questions?”

Bethany’s lip trembled. She glanced down at her wound. Still bleeding profusely. She needed to break free. Or else she would die.

Today.

Part 2, Coming Soon!

– Thomas M. Watt

Julie and Benjamin – Part 4 – GRAND FINALE!

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Benjamin and Julie were running straight towards the men in uniform. Police cruisers were chasing behind them. A helicopter flew overhead.

“How are we gonna get out of this?” Screamed Julie.

“I know a way out!” said Benjamin. “You just have to trust me!”

They continued running, and the officers ahead already had their guns drawn. The married fugitives were in plain sight, and every citizen on each side of the street was watching them.

“Are we going to die?” said Julie.

“I don’t know yet!” said Benjamin.

They continued running. The cruisers sped up behind them while The helicopter descended out in front.

“Ready?” said Benjamin.

“For what?” Said Julie.

The pair continued running, chain-linking jingling between them as they did.

“You see that helicopter?”

Julie looked. The copter was dangerously low to the ground and moving towards them.

“Yeah?” she said.

“Okay, when I say now, jump!”

“What?”

“NOW!”

Benjamin jumped and raised his hands over his head. Julie followed. The handcuffs linking them caught onto the railing below the helicopter. The chopper raised them up off the ground, and the cruisers skidded to a stop below.

“You’re crazy!” Screamed Julie.

Benjamin laughed. “I thought I was a coward?”

Julie looked down in terror at all the police and citizens watching them. “No, not anymore. Now you’re plain crazy!”

The helicopter heightened and headed for a tall apartment complex. The onlookers continued to gaze up at them.

“So does that mean you love me now?” said Benjamin.

Julie whined slightly, shook her head, then began to sob. “I’ve always loved you. You know I have.”

Benjamin smiled. “I thought I was too much of a bore for you?”

She scoffed. “If you weren’t so boring, I’d have wound up in jail a long time ago.”

The copter stopped, and their feet dangled near the roof of the tall apartment complex.

“I should have never talked you into my stupid plan. Stealing police uniforms for a stupid party was a bad idea. I’m sorry Benjamin, I only wish we didn’t have to go to prison apart.”

Benjamin looked at her, and smiled. “I’m sorry I’ve always been too cautious to try anything fun.”

“It’s fine, you keep me out of trouble. That’s why i love you.”

He smiled back. “And I love you.”

The copter lowered steadily and tilted, so that the married couple attached by iron handcuffs slid off the rail with ease. They landed on their feet.

“Come on,” said Benjamin, with a smirk. “I want to show you something.”

Julie looked at him curiously. “You don’t want to run?”

“No.” He laughed. “No more running.”

Benjamin walked Julie over to the ledge of the rooftop. There raised and stood on top of it. Down below all the townspeople began to clap. The officers took off their hats, and even the hillbilly with the rifle was there, waving his gun at them.

“What is this?” said Julie.

“I knew how much you wanted a fun Halloween party, so I got all these people together and spoke with the police. The whole thing was set up from the start. I tripped and dropped the bag of uniforms on purpose, Julie. I knew how much you wanted that rush of adrenaline, so I gave it to you.”

Julie gasped and batted her eyes. “You did all this for me?”

“Of course,” he said. “I love you.”

She laughed, cred a single tear, then leaned in and kissed him. The whole town below went wild.

“Happy Halloween,” she said.

“Happy Halloween Julie,” he finished.

THE END!

Thomas M. Watt