la Fille du Diable

Brenda sat on the couch, silently staring at the man passed out in the recliner. The tears on her face had dried, leaving only feelings of anger mixed with her physical pain.
He had abused her in ways no father should. Even worse, he let his friends take turns…after the first two or three she had lost count of how many times her bedroom door had opened and shut during the night. She honestly didn’t even know who they were because she kept her eyes closed the whole time until she heard their cars leaving early in the morning.
Feeling somewhat safe then she half dressed & had ventured out into the living room but he was still awake, sitting on the couch drunk and cleaning his revolver. When he saw her he laughed and asked her how she enjoyed the previous nights festivities. When she began to cry he got angry, threw her on the couch, ripped off her panties, shoved his gun inside her and told her if she ever said a word about it he would kill her. Then he smiled, cuffed her, pulled off his pants and started all over again.
Watching him sleep she wondered how easily it might be to kill him, but something deep inside told her not to. He was her father after all and in some sick, perverted, twisted way she knew he loved her. But what he did to her was wrong. If her mother was still alive she would’ve never allowed it but mom died when she was 8…the abuse started soon after. She was 13 now & had started to develop early…way more than most of the other girls her age which brought her a lot of unwanted attention. She didn’t understand why the boys kept staring at her but if it had anything to do with what her father did to her constantly she wanted no part of it.
His gun was still laying on the table but she wasn’t quite sure how it worked. He had never taught her how to use it and she didn’t want to just harm him, she wanted him dead. There were all those knives in the kitchen too but she didn’t want to stab him in the wrong spot because if it didn’t kill him then what’s the point.
She really wasn’t sure what to do so she thought maybe while he was still asleep should take a walk to clear her head. Maybe she would think of something.

They lived about two blocks from the train station in a very run down part of town. Most of the houses in their area were either abandoned or close to being condemned and hers was one of the only few left on their street that was still occupied. Mainly because dad didn’t have enough money to move them and there was nothing else they could afford. She was walking behind the station house when she heard someone crying, like a small child. She walked around to the front of the building and saw a woman standing at the ticket counter talking to the agent. Close to the edge of the platform there was a small boy, maybe around 3 or 4 years old. He was dressed real fancy in nice new clothes bought from a store in town. All she ever got to wear were old items from the Salvation Army store or the donation boxes at church. She noticed a red spot on his leg and figured a mosquito or something else had bit him which is why he was crying. Snot was running down his nose, dripping on his new shirt which made her angry. He was just a kid, didn’t really know any better but it irked her that he was all clean & nice, messing up his neat clothes while she was dirty & dressed in hand-me-downs. He noticed her as she walked closer and smiled, gurgling and trying to babble at her. She shushed him and motioned for him to follow her as she walked backwards towards the woods. He slowly made his way down the steps as she looked towards the counter…neither his mother nor the ticket agent were looking in their direction. He caught up to her but tripped on a small branch and started crying again.
His mother yelled at him without even turning around “Be quiet Tommy, I’m almost done!”
Brenda smiled & reached out to him “Don’t be afraid Tommy, we’re gonna go play in the woods. Wouldn’t you like that?” He nodded at her smiling his toothy grin as he took her hand and she led him away.

The police had been looking for Tommy for 3 days before they found his body in the woods, buried in a small shallow grave covered with leaves. Something had been gnawing on his face…part of his nose was missing and there were bite marks on his lips and cheeks. Several fingers were missing and part of his left leg was gone. It made the news all over town and everyone around came for the funeral, Brenda included but her father was conspicuously absent. She watched Tommy’s mother, sobbing uncontrollably while the man behind her held her steady. It was probably Tommy’s father. He was handsome, well-dressed & you could see the pain in his face as he tried to hold himself together. Suddenly she recognized him…he was a well-known lawyer whose face was plastered on several billboards through town. If she had known that then maybe she wouldn’t have done all those things to Tommy. But then she realized it never would have mattered. She had been so angry, so hurt…she needed to inflict pain on something else. Or someone. Tommy had just been in the wrong place at the wrong time. He never even saw it coming…he was so clumsy falling over everything as they walked away & crying that she knew his mom would come looking soon so she picked him up and ran, carrying him deeper into the woods. She sat him down on the ground and he was momentarily distracted by a frog that came hopping by, long enough for her to find a large rock nearby that wasn’t too heavy for her to pick up. He was crawling along the ground slowly when the rock came down hard on the back of his head. She knew all about soft spots on babies heads and figured as long as she got close to it then maybe he would be dazed enough so he wouldn’t struggle too much. He never even screamed…it killed him instantly which made her even angrier. She wanted him to suffer and she couldn’t even hear the sounds of his screams when she pulled out her pocketknife and stabbed his lifeless body over and over until her hand ached. She had sat & cried a bit out of frustration before trying to find something to hide him with. The rock she had found had a sharp, flat edge on it and she used it to dig out a small depression in the ground to put his body in. The ground was covered in old leaves which she used to cover the grave. She stamped them down to put more & more on before falling back, exhausted. The whole day played over & over in her head but she felt no better than before. The anger she’d felt towards her father was just deepening so if this didn’t cull her need to inflict pain she wasn’t sure if anything would. She had slowly gotten to her feet before walking back towards the house to find her dad still asleep. All the feelings she had for him earlier were gone. He was just a sack of meat that caused her pain and he needed to pay for it. She had found the large butcher knife in the kitchen and sat on the coffee table in front of him, plotting, looking over him slowly trying to figure out where to cut him first. Somehow she needed to incapacitate him so he wouldn’t move much or make a lot of noise. Back in the kitchen she found some duct tape and a long extension cord…he was so drunk he didn’t even flinch when she placed the tape over his mouth and tied the cord around his stomach and the chair.

By the time they found his body, several days after Tommy’s funeral, she was long gone. Someone had called the cops because she had missed some school and he was found still tied to his chair. The knife was protruding from his face, lodged deep in his left eye but he’d been stabbed 47 times, 3 fingers sliced off and his left ear was missing. They never found it, or her.

THE QUEEN OF HELL

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AND…

Maybe

Do you see this knife in my hand?

Yeah, I can see that you do ’cause your eyes are bulging out of their sockets.

You really need to stop squirming…well actually you don’t because the more you squirm the tighter the ropes get & the more it cuts off your circulation that causes you more pain which is really all I want.

I want you to feel as much pain as you’ve caused me because I can’t stop thinking about you.

It’s been absolute torture no matter what I do.

I’ve tried cutting you out of my life.

I’ve tried ignoring you.

I’ve tried everything I can to get you out of my head but you keep popping up all over. Every time I turn around there you are so maybe this is the only way.

Maybe if I gouge out your eyes with this knife I won’t be able to see you in my dreams. Maybe.

And maybe if I cut out your tongue I won’t be able to hear your voice in my head anymore.

Maybe…maybe not…but I guess I should give it a shot.

Who knows, it might work.

Fresh Is Best

pork chop

I sit and watch, mesmerized, my eyes slowly widening as I watch the pale flesh separate from the bone.
It sliced off so evenly, only a small piece falls to the floor so I stoop to pick it up and rinse it off in the sink next to the table.
Dark red stains my fingertips and palm as I turn it over in my hand, suddenly wondering what it may taste like.
I run upstairs quickly and return within a few minutes carrying a skillet, some oil, salt, pepper, a knife & fork and a plate.
I have a small hot plate down here in the basement but I don’t use it much really because there’s never been any reason to…until now.
I noticed her staring at me, her eyes slowly glazing over with fear and pain.
Not a word she says as I have taking care of that and removed her tongue. The only thing she can do is emit a low gurgle.
Smiling, I decided to cook the tongue along with the other and just make a regular dinner out of it. I think I have some salad upstairs too left over from last night to round everything out.
It’s interesting how the blood cooks, sizzling & browning a bit around the edge of the small puddle and it flips nicely when I turn the meat over. Pulling a bit of it away I let it rest on my tongue, savoring it as it melts away. I turn off the heat, not wanting to overcook it but not sure how to tell since I’ve never cooked human before. It smells a bit like hamburger. The tongue is thick and chewy but not bad, a bit hard to swallow though. The meat, however, is amazing. Crunchy around the edges but nice & tender, like cutting into a thick pork chop. A bit of muscle is still attached to it and it just adds a bit to the flavor. I just hope she doesn’t die anytime soon…the next bit may not taste as good. Everyone knows fresh is best.

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The Queen of Hell

unrequited reapings

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and coming soon…my latest collection…

reaper's omnibus book cover

 

In the end…

image

you made me feel like I was special
like I was somebody
I was finally part of the in crowd
and people were actually jealous
jealous of me
because I was worthy of your attention
after being so broken
so many times
I was happy
happier than I’ve been in ages
so what happened
why did it sour so quickly
what did I do that was so wrong
to make you leave without a trace
abandoned
alone again
a year later the pain is still there
I doubt it will ever go away
sometimes it does for a while
I can take a deep breath
and remember what happiness was
but then there are nights like tonight
when all I want to do
is either feel sorry for myself
cry myself to sleep
or let the anger take over
and stab you in the face
well…
I write about shit like that
I would never actually act it out
but sometimes thinking about it helps
my self-confidence has not recovered
and I can’t forgive you
not  yet
maybe someday
but I doubt it’s going to be anytime soon
it’s been an extremely rough year for me
in more ways than one
but I hope you’re happy
I don’t expect a response to this
in the end…
I just needed to tell you how I feel
how I still feel after all this time

queen of hell 4

The Queen of Hell

unrequited reapings

pick up a copy of my first book on Amazon available in paperback and for Kindle

http://www.amazon.com/Unrequited-Reapings-Carolyn-Graham/dp/151533645X/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1441066765&sr=8-1&keywords=Unrequited+reapings

Obsession

Killer silhouette behind door with frosted glass

you don’t know how many times
I’ve watched you walk past that window
how many times I wish
you would come outside
and say hello
just smile at me
let me know it’s all ok
but every day it’s the same thing
you continue to ignore me
like you always do
its agonizing
completely frustrating
how can you not understand
my true feelings?
maybe tonight will be the night
maybe you’ll feel as much pain as I felt
when you broke my heart
when you rejected my advances
maybe
once the knife pierces your skin
your eyes glaze over
you’ll realize how much I really love you
I always have
and then you’ll be mine
Forever

queen of hell 4

The Queen of Hell

unrequited reapings

pick up a copy of my new book on Amazon available in paperback and for Kindle

http://www.amazon.com/Unrequited-Reapings-Carolyn-Graham/dp/151533645X/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1441066765&sr=8-1&keywords=Unrequited+reapings

Waiting

image
I’ve spent a lifetime
it seems
of Waiting for you
so much time
Waiting
for you to notice me
to tell me you care
for that next message
the next hug
your smile
that sparkle
twinkle
in your baby blues
the next I love you
hours
days
Waiting
for the tears
that deep empty ache
in my chest
to end
my broken heart
to mend
weeks
months
of just wishing
you would disappear
the memories would
simply stop
so I could breathe
again
without the pain
of knowing
finally realizing
that you’re
no longer Waiting
for me

queen of hell 4

The Queen of Hell

unrequited reapings

pick up a copy of my new book on Amazon available in paperback and for Kindle

http://www.amazon.com/Unrequited-Reapings-Carolyn-Graham/dp/151533645X/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1441066765&sr=8-1&keywords=Unrequited+reapings

 

Frazzled

reaper 108

it’s all too much
I can’t seem to make heads or tails of it
why does everything have to be so final?
there are just too many raw emotions going through me right now
nothing makes sense
my head hurts from all the tears
and I’m hungry
I haven’t eaten anything today
I can’t sleep either
I’ve tried
I’m so exhausted
my body feels as if it’s worn to a frazzle
but the Sandman has disappeared
he’s such a bastard
never around when you need him
the wind seems to be blowing relentlessly outside
the song from my windchimes is a strange comfort
I wonder if she’s stopping by to say hello?
and now it seems as if someone is knocking at my door
it is my darling Reaper
his cold embrace offering little comfort
as my keening continues

queen of hell 4

The Queen of Hell

 unrequited reapings

pick up a copy of my new book on Amazon available in paperback and for Kindle

http://www.amazon.com/Unrequited-Reapings-Carolyn-Graham/dp/151533645X/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1441066765&sr=8-1&keywords=Unrequited+reapings