Crush

This week’s Tuesday Scribes challenge is to write an ‘Internal Dialogue.’  Encyclopaedia Britannica defines internal monologue as: ‘….narrative technique that exhibits the thoughts passing through the minds of the protagonists. These ideas may be either loosely related impressions approaching free association or more rationally structured sequences of thought and emotion.’

Thanks to Mike Johnson for creating this challenge.

Breathe.

Everything is fine.

Just say hello when you pass and keep walking.

Chances are he won’t even notice you.

I bet he is thinking about that Suzie Harris from 5^th hour.

I can’t believe he asked her out. She wears braces for gosh sake.

What if he says something? I would die if he talked to me.

He’s getting closer.  

Why does he have to be so cute?

Don’t stare!

Crap. He saw me.

Is that a smile?

Nah, I bet he is laughing at my yellow raincoat. I can’t believe my mother made me wear this.

 I’m in 8^th grade for gosh sake.

He stopped! Why did he stop?

He’s looking right at me.  He’s smiling. At me.

I think I am going to throw up.

 

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SPF – Ghost Hunters

Sunday Photo Fiction is a weekly challenge to write a 200-word story based on a photo prompt. The photo this week is one I took at a local cemetery. I have always found cemeteries interesting and since it is Memorial Day weekend here in the US, when many of us visit the cemetery, a cemetery seemed like a good location for this week’s story. 

Photo Credit: Susan Spaulding

“Scare-de-cat. It’s just a cemetery.”

Kip gave Jack a mocking look, then flashed a big smile. Jack would follow Kip anywhere when she smiled, even in search of a ghost dog. There was a legend in town that when Bernadine Atwood died of scarlet fever, her loving dog was so distraught he spent the rest of his days laid upon her grave. It is said that on the night of the new moon you could see the dog watching over her. Nothing but Jack’s undying love for Kip would bring him to such a ghoulish place after dark.

“Over here!” yelled Kip from behind a large oak tree. Jack saw the headstone and wondered what he would do if the dog suddenly appeared.

After an hour of silent waiting, Jack said he was going home. Kip, bored with the game as well, agreed and they headed toward the entrance. Half-way there, Jack sensed something following them. When he heard a low growl, he yelled for Kip to run. They scrambled over the fence and sighed relief once on the other side.

That is until Jack noticed Kip’s leg was bleeding. Was that a dog bite, or just a scratch?