I give you, a second clip of me acting. Here’s the first if you think you can handle it.
I was visiting my friend in Portland when a few dozen beers led to some ingenious sketch ideas. This is one of them.
- Thomas M. Watt
- Author of Master
Tag Archives: Marriage
Master – 4.2
Click here to start from the beginning!
She’s hidden beneath the covers, and I know she hates being woken up. The only exception is Christmas morning. Then again, she’s wide awake every Christmas morning.
I peel back the cover just enough to see she’s facing away from me. I rest my hand on her brown hair, and she doesn’t move.
“I know you’re sleeping right now, Brussels-sprouts. I just wanted you to know-” I pause.
I lived a very lonely life. That’s what people don’t get about me; that’s what they miss. Until you’ve gone without love, you have no idea how powerful it can be when it finds you. It’s not just a saying, and it sure as hell isn’t something I tell myself to feel better about giving up football. I don’t mean to get sappy, but as I stand here at my daughter’s bedside, knowing a short hallway away rests a beautiful woman who loves Phil Gordon the pool guy, I can’t help but thank God for all the life I have, and forget to give two shits about the one I gave up.
“I love you, Brussels sprouts.”
She turns over, and I finally see her face. Avery puts her hand in mine, then rubs her eye open.
“What time is it, daddy?”
I smirk. “Too early for you.”
She giggles.
I kiss her on the forehead, then get up.
“Wait!”
“What is it?”
“Come over here!”
I sigh, then do.
“Pinky.”
I grin, then hold out the finger. She locks her tiny pinky around mine.
“Say it, daddy.”
“You sure? Figured you’re too grown-up for that.”
“Say it!”
I smile. “Daddy cauliflower always returns for princess Brussels Sprouts.”
“Yay!” says Avery, kicking her legs and feet. I can’t help but laugh along with her – she hates vegetables.
I proceed to the kitchen, scoop out some Columbian roast, toss it in the filter, then add about four cups worth of water and turn the coffee pot on. I wait with my hands on the counter and my head dangling over my chest.
It was a dream, I remind myself. Nothing but a dream.
Still, ‘Master’ seemed so real. The entire scene did. Some dreams are so ludicrous you realize you’re dreaming while you’re in the middle of them. Other dreams fool you a little more, but as soon as you return to consciousness you realize you’d been tricked.
The coffee finishes brewing, and I pour myself a cup.
But then there are those other dreams, when long after waking, you are still convinced that you were in the presence of another being. Maybe not physically, but maybe metaphysically. The universe is a strange place.
“Are you trying to freak me out?”
It’s Loretta – she’s standing in the doorway, glaring at me.
“Yes, just the dream. Don’t worry-”
“You don’t spook easily, Phillip.”
“I know.”
“So why do you look so disturbed, baby?”
I think for a moment, and some primitive part of me urges me to warn her about Master. I almost want to stay here, just to watch over my family and make certain everything remains alright.
“Like you said, it was just a dream.” I hand her the mug. “Here, I don’t even want this. Have a good day, babe.” I kiss her and head for the front door.
“So why are you so upset?”
“Just being paranoid, like you said.”
“Love you, Phillip,” she says as I leave.
- Thomas M. Watt
Master – 2.2
Click here to start from the beginning
“Why are you laughing?”
“You’re paranoid baby. I swear, sometimes I wonder if I married a schizophrenic.”
She returns to me again, then playfully straightens out my Montreal Expos cap. “You’re Phillip Gordon! You stand a sexy six-foot four, don’t take shit from nobody, and married the hottest Latina this town has ever seen.” She sets her hand on my knee, then slides it up my thigh, closer to my crotch. “You have a beautiful daughter, named Avery. You’re the greatest football player this town has ever known. And you know what? If anyone gives you shit, just dump enough chlorine in their pools to kill off their entire families. And their little poodles.”
I laugh. “Saying things like that could get you in trouble.”
“I don’t give a fuck what people think, baby! Only you.”
Loretta rubs the crotch part of my jeans with the flat of her palm until she finds my dong. Then, in the sexiest voice you could ever imagine, “You like when I do this?”
Loretta forms her hand into a fist and punches me right in the dick.
“Hey!” I say, then shove her away with a single arm. She giggles like a school girl as she returns to her seat, then smiles to herself while staring out the window. I laugh at first, then the ride turns to silence. No music playing, no conversation – just silence.
“Loretta?”
“Ya Baby?”
“I love you.”
She takes my hand and kisses the back of it. “Love you forever, Phillip Gordon.”
- Thomas M. Watt
Too Perfect Marriage – Part 7
“What’s your wife doin’?” said the driver.
“That’s not my…” Calvin shook his head. “I don’t know. She’ll be right back, though.”
“You better hope so, fair’s runnin.”
“She’ll be here in a sec, said she would.”
Calvin listened to “Bittersweet Symphony” on his Ipod again, and couldn’t stop replaying the kiss in his head. It’d been so long since the sweet ingredients of love had churned in his gut and been devoured by his heart. Marrying Bridgette was a blemish he’d been trying to paint around, but now that he was certain she was cheating and actively looking to kill him, brushing on a fresh canvas didn’t seem like such a condemn-able idea.
“Give her a call, buddy,” said the driver.
Calvin smeared his forehead. “Don’t know her phone number, believe it or not.”
“Ah, I see. Damn shame, thought you two looked good together. Good times end so fast.”
“You misunderstood. We’re gonna be together for the long run. Trust me.”
The driver adjusted his rear view mirror to catch a glance of Calvin, then sighed and turned away.
Calvin scoffed and shook his head. He tapped his fingers on his knee, then ripped the earbuds out and stuffed the Ipod back into his pocket. He checked the time – five minutes since she’d left. He ran a hand threw his hair, then fluttered his lips with an exhale and crossed his arms.
“Go in there and get her. Doin’ nothing for nobody, just waitin’ here,” said the driver.
“Be patient.”
“Huh?”
Calvin groaned, then whipped out a wad of bills from his pocket. He swatted them in the driver’s hand. “Here,” he said, then stepped out.
He paced toward the club with his head on a swivel. Shea said she’d be right back, but the fact that she hadn’t returned wasn’t a huge call for alarm – chances were, she had some choice words before parting ways with Brody and leaving his dirty dick for good.
Still, Calvin felt uneasy – he was convinced Bridgette and Brody were conspiring to kill him. He could afford to look for Shea, as long as he remained surrounded by others – narcissists murdered, but weren’t the type to ruin their reputations and risk prison time.
Calvin passed by people exiting the club, then made his way through the smokers near the back entrance. He tore the door open and came face to face with Brody.
“H-h-hey, Calvin! I was just looking for you.”
Calvin dropped back a step.
Brody proceeded forward, then swung his arm around Calvin and tugged him away from the club and toward an empty alleyway. “Your wife tells me you’re quite the guitar player-”
“Eat a dick,” said Calvin, throwing Brody’s arm from his shoulders. He turned around. Brody jumped in front of him.
“Easy, guy! … what’s with the constant hard-on for me?”
“Returning yours from my wife.”
The smokers outside raised their eyebrows and moved a little closer.
“What? Nooo,” said Brody. “What kind of monster you think-”
“Kind of monster who kills. I know about the gun.”
“What gun?” said Brody, with a chuckle. “Oh, you mean this?” He reached inside the flap of his jacket, withdrew a handgun, then casually pointed it at Calvin. “I like guns, so what.”
“Put that shit away,” Calvin said.
“Easy guy! you really think I would shoot you?”
“Thought Bridgette might cheat with a douche-bag, was right about that.”
Brody smiled. The smokers watched eagerly.
“This attitude of yours is very disheartening,” said Brody.
“I’m leaving with Shea.”
Brody quit smiling. “What?”
“That’s right. You can have Bridgette, she’s all yours. I want Shea.”
Brody scratched his temple and lowered an eyebrow. “But… why?”
“Because when you acted like a pompous ass in the limo she told me to ignore you, and that’s goddamn refreshing after being told ‘stop being an idiot’ for so fucking long. Because when I got my ass kicked by some clown inside she cared more about me being alright than how stupid she looked being the wife of a loser. Because when I say it’s a perfect moment, she makes it better.”
“But Bridgette’s a ten, and they’re both blonde, so…”
Calvin scoffed. “You’re a joke. Get out of my way,” he said, trying to move past.
Brody grabbed him by the arm, then yanked him close and jammed the gun barrel into his abdomen.
Calvin glared at him. “I’m not as funny as you think,” said Brody.
“Move the gun.”
“I’ll start with the trigger.”
Calvin forced his words through gritted teeth. “What kind of idiot kills in public? Look around, we’re surrounded. They’ve got cameras recording this.”
Brody didn’t flinch.
“Why kill me?” Said Calvin. “Take Bridgette, she’s all yours. Let me and Shea walk.”
“Nobody’s trying to kill you,” said Brody.
“Ditch the gun,” said Calvin.
“Problem’s Shea.”
“You don’t give a shit, you don’t even love her.”
“Not that simple.”
“We’ll see, guy,” said Calvin. He shoved Brody then hurried toward the backdoor.
“H-h-hey, buddy!” yelled Brody. “Think you’ve had a few too many!”
Calvin reached for the door, ripped it open, then lost his feet out from under him. Brody had tackled his lower half. The door fell closed, and Calvin found himself wrestling on the pavement.
“You’re not getting back at that guy in there!” said Brody. “Already caused a scene, now you’re embarrassing both of us!”
The onlookers didn’t intervene. Calvin struggled to peel himself free from Brody, who wouldn’t stop yelling.
“I won’t let you fight him! I can’t, you’re not in your right mind!”
Calvin managed to climb on top of Brody, then swallowed up Brody’s face with his palm. “Shut the fuck up!”
“You’re drunk!” said Brody. “Get off me, you’re drunk!”
Calvin reared back then slugged Brody across the face. Blood fired out from his mouth.
“Money don’t buy fists,” Calvin said, then tried to push himself up.
Brody grabbed Calvin’s white button down, then ripped him close and hissed into his ear.
“I’m not the breadwinner bitch.”
“What?”
“Shea’s loaded. Family inheritance.”
Calvin shook his head. “You’re talking out your ass-”
“Nothing to gain by killing you.”
Calvin’s heart raced. “So Shea is-”
“Dead,” said Brody, before taking a peek at his rolex. “Right about… now.” He laughed in his face, blood sputtering from his lips.
“No,” said Calvin. He shook his head, reached into Brody’s jacket, then yanked out the gun. “No!” He stood up and stormed into the club.
To be continued…
- Thomas M. Watt
CLICK HERE FOR PART 8 – FINALE!
“
Too Perfect Marriage – Part 4
“I had breakfast with Bridgette’s dad this morning.”
Shea quit smiling. Calvin walked around her and pushed through the dancers.
“Calvin, wait!” said Shea.
He split a couple apart and continued on. His eyes darted around the place, but it was hard to identify his wife with the rapid flash of strobe lights. Music pounded through the speakers. Sweaty bodies were everywhere – but where was Bridgette?
Calvin spotted a few of his wife’s work friends. They climbed the stairs. At the front of the pack strode Bridgette and Brody. It looked like they could be holding hands, but other patrons blocked his view.
“Dammit,” he said, standing on his toes.
Someone grabbed Calvin by the wrist.
“Shea, what does that look-”
The moment he whirled around, a fist came flying at his face. Calvin ducked down and narrowly dodged the flying knuckles. It came from a big fella wearing an extra large black shirt, gold chain around his neck.
“What the hell!” said Shea.
Big fella swung again, and socked Calvin in the stomach. Calvin fell back a few steps.
“Stop!” Said Shea.
“Ain’t about you girl,” said big fella.
Calvin lifted his gaze – bouncers were storming over and parting the dancers.
“Look me in the eye you little bitch.” Big fella cracked his knuckles.
“Who are you?” said Calvin.
Big fella grabbed a fistful of Calvin’s shirt.
“Calvin!” said Shea.
Big fella cocked his arm back and delivered another blow into Calvin’s cheek. When he reloaded for another punch, Calvin shot out his arm, grabbed his gold chain, then twisted it until Big Fella began to choke. Big Fella dropped to his knees and dug his fingers between his chain and neck, struggling to breathe.
Big Fella ripped the chain himself, and the pieces landed on the floor.
“You done it,” he said, then stood and slugged Calvin across the face
Calvin landed in a dive on the dance floor, pushing the legs out from those around him. He hurried onto his back, and found Big Fella pouncing to clobber him. Calvin brought his knee into his chest, then kicked Big Fella right in the teeth. Backlash sent big fella bending and twisting over in the opposite direction.
Bouncers tore through the crowd, pointing at Calvin.
Calvin sprung to his feet and grabbed Shea by the hand. He rushed toward the backdoor, using his front wrist to strong-arm through the dancers.
“Why did he attack you?” said Shea.
“You think I know?”
Calvin checked over his shoulder for the bouncers, and got an unexpected glance of Bridgette and Brody. Calvin stopped in his tracks.
Shea ran into him. He turned her around, then held her with his forearm wrapped around her neck.
“What are you-”
Shea followed the point of his finger. Brody leaned over Bridgette from behind the top balcony, with his hands holding the bar in front of her abdomen.
“Oh my God,” said Shea.
The bouncers were making headway through the crowd.
“Let’s go,” said Calvin. He charged toward the back door and yanked Shea along with him. He kicked it open, and the two barged into a crowd of smokers.
“Waddup?” said a smoker.
Calvin noticed the four men encircling him had baggy shirts and chain necklaces.
“Your face looks like pizza got stomped on.” said one of them.”Who you runnin’ from?”
“Nobody. Let me bum one.”
They scoffed. One of them handed him a cigarette.
Calvin lit up, then sucked the black ash into his lungs.
“What just happened?” said Shea. She coughed and looked away.
“You don’t smoke?”
She eyeballed the cigarette. “Not anymore.”
Shea plucked the cigarette from his lips, then jammed it in her own. She treated it like it were a CPR victim, and killed it in no time. Shea coughed, bent over and pressed her hand to her chest.
Calvin pat her on the back and helped her straighten up. “Hey,” he said. “You okay?”
“Am I okay? Don’t you think they’re cheating on us?”
“I don’t know.”
“We’re getting cuckolded… my life’s over.” Shea spun around and reached for the door. Calvin grabbed her by the wrist then tugged her back.
“That guy attacked me for no reason.”
“I know, I’m sorry but-”
“Don’t go in there.”
“My husband’s in there.”
“Bridgette can be sinister. She goes out without me, but something changed her mind tonight. I don’t think it’s love.”
“Calvin-”
“Bridgette brought a gun. Maybe Brody’s got it now. Does your husband know how to use one?”
“Oh my God,” she lifted her head and stared back into his eyes.
“What?”
“The knife,” said Shea. She checked him up and down, then pushed her hand into his chest and walked away.
To be continued…
- Thomas M. Watt
Too Perfect Marriage – Part 3
Brody’s eyes fidgeted between her and Calvin. “…sure.”
He poured Shea a drink, then passed it along. The party guests resumed their former chatter, and the remainder of the ride went smooth, though there were a few subtle bumps. Calvin kept silent.
The ride pulled up to the popular night spot and dropped them off. The party guests hurried out and trotted to the back of the line. Once they settled in, Calvin grabbed Bridgette by the wrist and tugged her close.
“You brought a gun?”
“Huh?”
“I saw it. In your purse.”
“Are you being serious?”
Calvin’s mouth stayed shut.
“You’re starting to piss me off.” Bridgette jerked her arm away, then smiled brightly and returned to her circle of friends.
“Shit,” said Shea, squeezing Calvin’s shoulder.
He watched as she scraped her heel along the ground. It was the first time he noticed she had blonde hair and wore a red party dress, almost identical to his wife’s.
“I stepped in it. I stepped in shit,” Shea said.
Calvin stepped out of her grasp and grabbed his wife again. He swiveled her around, grabbed both sides of her face then kissed her on the lips.
“What do you want?” she said.
He brought his lips right into her ear, then whispered. “You have a gun. In your purse. I want to know why.”
“Get off me!” She shoved him back a few steps. Everybody in the circle went quiet. “See for yourself, moron!” She flung the purse at him.
It hit Calvin in the abdomen. Out spilled her make-up, tampons, and a few pens. No gun.
“Whoa! Keep it in the bedroom, you two!” said Brody. He ran his hand threw his grey hair and chuckled.
Calvin shook his head, then lowered to one knee and picked up his wife’s belongings. Shea bent over and picked up a few of the items with him, then dumped them in the bag.
Calvin stood, then smacked Bridgette’s shoulder with the back of his hand. “Here.”
She folded her arms. “You don’t trust me.”
“Take your purse.”
She rolled her eyes, then returned to her circle.
“You okay?” Shea said to Calvin.
He nodded.
“Want me to hold that?” said Shea.
Calvin’s eyes were glued to his wife. She wasn’t just enjoying herself – she was glowing.
Shea made robot noises as she peeled his digits off the handle, one by one. She swung the purse over her shoulder, then stopped giggling. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“Yeah, I’m great.”
“Good, because that’s totally what I asked.”
A few people exited the night club, and the line moved forward.
“Brody works a lot, and I’m really busy with the kids,” said Shea. She stuck her palm to her eye. “Shit, I mean the kids I teach. I want kids, but Brody doesn’t. He used to, well before he married me-”
“My wife is going to kill me.”
Shea gasped. “What?”
Calvin studied Brody.
“I’m sure you’re just imagining it. I don’t know, you seem really creative. I think it’s cool how you play the guitar.”
Calvin faced her.
“Brody told me. They’ve been on the phone non-stop since Bridgette’s dad died.”
The group took another step forward. They were nearing the entrance.
“Did she even tell you? Shit, I shouldn’t have said that. Bridgette’s my good friend, and I don’t like getting into other people’s business. But that’s the only reason they look close.” She bit her lips, then pat Calvin’s shoulder blade. “I’m sorry. It’s not my place, I’m just a stranger to you… but if Bridgette’s scared you won’t be there for her when she needs you most, you kind of need to show her that she’s wrong… you know?”
The group advanced to the front of the line. “Wait here,” said the bouncer.
Shea sighed. “Shit, I can’t believe she didn’t tell you. That’s terrible. Not just for you, she must have trust issues. Just be patient and talk to her… I know I just met you, but you seem so sweet. Make her aware that you want to know all about the loss of her dad. That’s a really big deal… for anybody. I’m sure it’s not even you, she just feels vulnerable… There’s only two real men in a girls life, for God’s sake!”
Calvin shut his eyes.
Shea smiled kindly. “I know how it looks. Trust me, you think it’s been easy waiting for my husband to get off the phone with her? Bridgette’s an honorable person and would never do that to either of us, but I’m human, so yeah, I worry. I’ve been cheated on before – it destroyed me… for years.”
The group entered the nightclub, but the bouncer pulled the rope back before Calvin and Shea could pass through.
“Two?” said the bouncer.
“Oh, um, yeah I guess.” Shea scratched the back of her head. She frowned and punched Calvin in the shoulder. “It’s great to be a thinker, but you really should lighten up a little… I know Brody seems like a jerk, but he’s a good guy deep down… Trust me, he would never, ever cheat on me.” She smiled at Calvin. “So stop worrying about him and your wife already!”
The bouncer cleared the rope. The pair strode up the steps together and entered through the door. Music bumped, strobe lights flashed. Shea grabbed Calvin’s jacket flap. His gaze remained somewhere beyond her.
“Hey! Nothing is wrong! They’re friends! We’re friends! Relax and have fun!”
She hopped until she had his attention, then tossed her hair back and crossed her arms. “God, you really need to let things go!”
“I had breakfast with Bridgette’s dad this morning.”
Shea quit smiling. Calvin walked around her and pushed through the dancers.
To be continued…
- Thomas M. Watt
Would you kill the love of your life if…
What if the love of your life lost their mind, and their inability to show restraint during a time of crisis was putting your own life at risk?
What if a group were chasing after you, and one loud noise would give away your position and get you killed?
Would you risk hurting someone you loved to save yourself?
What if hurting them were your only option, and the future of humanity depended on YOUR survival??
James faces the same predicament in the following excerpt. To give you some context:
– James is locked in a hidden prison room.
– Zephrons are giant red aliens who invaded planet earth and enslaved whatever humans they chose not kill.
– The night of the invasion, a group of locals escaped to an underground military base. They were soon afterward indoctrinated by Colonel Fitz, who considers himself to be the new messiah. This scene takes place in that underground base.
– The zephrons are going to wipe out the rest of humanity in one day…
And James is the only person who can stop them.
* * *
CHAPTER 52
James’ stomach grumbled loudly. He hadn’t eaten a good meal since before his sentence to the picking plant. He looked around aimlessly for something edible to distract him. Nothing. Only the doggie saucer of water. He took handfuls from it, desperately hoping for the water to trick his stomach. He began weeping as he drank.
“I wanna marry you,” said Penny.
James raised his head. Penny moved in, then began licking water out from the bowl. James crawled backwards then clutched himself and began to rock. He smeared dry the tip of his nose, then looked across the room to Spes’ cell.
“Do not worry, human. It will never-”
“Never what!” James screamed. He stood up, grabbed the prison cell bars, then shook them. “What do you want me to do? My best friend is dead, my dad is dead, and tomorrow morning, every human on the surface of the earth will be dead! And here I am.” He grabbed both sides of his hair and breathed chaotically. “Stuck in a prison cell, unable to do anything about it.” He squinted back at them and pointed his index finger. “And you idiots expect me to believe that this is God’s plan? That somehow my being here is going to help me conquer the zephrons?”
“Calm down, human. God knows-”
“God knows, God knows, you know what? God knows shit. That’s what I think. If you want something done you’ve got to do it yourself, period.”
A humming noise came from outside. The door started to creak open to the corridor, and Fitz entered in. He held the ring of keys.
“Well well well, traitor.” He walked over to James with the key ring in one hand, a rifle in the other. “I get your bicep, in case you were wondering.”
“What happened to Roy? What happened to your daughter?”
“I locked Penny up for disobeying me. She was hanging around that drunk loser after I forbid her to.”
“And Roy?”
“Why don’t you ask her?”
“I did.”
“Well? Did she tell you?”
“She’s a little kooky if you haven’t noticed.”
Fitz smiled. “Roy is dead.”
“From a bullet?”
He nodded.
James lowered his head. “Suicide.”
“Not suicide.”
James looked back up.
Fitz grinned and pointed to himself. “That was all me.”
“You killed Roy?”
Just then, the ambulance sirens in the hallway began going off – the same that were triggered whenever someone stepped out from the elevator and entered the underground base. They were soon accompanied by the sounds of zephron howls. Human shrieks quickly followed.
“You led them back here!” said Fitz.
James tried to shake his head as Fitz raised his rifle.
“You led them-”
Janie ran in and tackled Fitz. The ring of keys dropped to the ground, but the rifle remained in his grasp.
“My king! My king! We have to go!”
Greg, Juan, and the other underground council members rushed in. They grabbed Fitz and carried him off his feet and out from the room, then turned towards the back end of the corridor. The keys remained in the middle of the room, unreachable by any of the now-fully exposed prisoners – the door to the secret prison had been left open. All the zephrons had to do was peak inside and James would be toast.
“Ahh!” screamed Penny.
James hurried over then hugged Penny’s face into his chest. He picked up a ratty, child-sized blanket and did his best to cover them both with it. He whispered into her ear as the loud, nightmarish yells echoed from the main room over to them.
“Penny, I need you to calm down,” he whispered.
She bit her lips into her mouth. “But what’s happening?”
The screams only intensified. So did the wild zephron howls. It was a slaughter – no doubt about it. James was nervous and scared, but knew that as long as everyone inside the secret prison area remained quiet, there was a good chance the zephrons wouldn’t bother leaving the main room. And even if they did, they were more likely to run straight past them and battle Fitz and his small army instead.
“What’s happen-”
“Don’t worry – I just need you to be quiet. Can you do that for me?” James’ eyes flickered up. He noticed the hammer in the corner of the cell. “Everything is going to be okay.”
“James!” said Penny.
“Shh,” he whispered, then covered her mouth. “Be quiet, Penny.”
Soon he heard their loud, thumping footsteps echoing through the corridor.
“Hime-cared!” She blurted out.
James hugged her face into his shoulder. “Please… just, shhh.”
Penny struggled to break free as the monstrous roars grew closer. She began to move her limbs erratically, and screamed more muffled words. James struggled to keep her quiet, but she wouldn’t be still. Penny escaped his grasp.
“James! James! Promise you’ll marry me, James!”
He could hear the zephrons closing in. James crawled on his hands and knees over to the hammer. He picked it up, then gulped and looked at Penny.
“Say you love me! Say it!”
James grabbed Penny by the throat and shoved her down, back against the ground. His hand shook as he held the hammer over her forehead.
“Shut-up,” He pleaded through a whisper.
“JAMES!” Penny screamed.
“Don’t!” said Fides, from across the room.
“JAMES!” She shouted again.
James swung the…
* * *
Well, what would you do? I’d love to hear a variety of perspectives.
* And if you’re dying to know what actually happens, you can start by clicking here.
– Thomas M. Watt
The Groom’s Song
Hello my dear unselfish one please come right here you will be spun.
Under my hand you soon shall dance, my hand, your hip, a step or two.
See my eyes tell me the color I do not know your eyes are fuller.
Give me your cheek, take back your tongue and feel my heart transcend you love.
I see your lips the way they pout the way your sad the way you frown.
Not today my little lady just for once give up the heavy.
Just for once this world of sharks can fuck itself and disembark.
Take this dance, this dance with me, take both my hands and smile please.
I’ll smile too, at least I’ll try, I want to feel the joy inside.
I want to be the pair right here that dances fine that looks happy.
Take a whirl, not yet a bow, see my eyes and hear that sound.
Yes my darling this songs for you I know, I know, its not your tune.
You don’t like slow you like it fast, you like to move and speak with crass.
But not today my sweet sweet muse ’cause on this day slow is for you.
Why you ask? Why must this be? You’re not the type for romance things?
Hush hush my darling, my baby love, I know you claim you’d rather fuck.
I would too, at least I’d claim it, but not tonight this night’s been saving.
All your life you’ve been pushed down and told to quiet and to crouch down.
For much too long you’ve stood aside and laughed and clapped for other brides.
But on this night, this night my love, there is no other, you are the dove.
Please do see this songs for you, your beauty breathes out true love too.
Do not cry, not yet my darling, the song still plays please stop your running.
Step on closer, head to my chest, cry a tear but fuck the rest.
This is your night my baby doll. This is the time you are not small.
See it clear please look around. We all love you and love your gown.
We want you to just laugh for once, not at expense but at joy’s brush.
Baby will you please come here, will you please just flee from fear.
Try to see that once in a while it’s a-o-k to feel like a child.
Okay to dream and hope and love, it’s not so bad to just give up-
all your fears your terrors too, all your thoughts of end and gloom.
Baby how I love you now, how much I want you to feel found.
See this night the star is you, to love my wife I say I do.
– Thomas M. Watt
The Worst Kind of Marriage – Part 6
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
The Worst Kind of Marriage – Part 5
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
Thomas M. Watt 