Truth & Fiction

I’ve been away from my blog(s) for a while, but I’ve still been a busy girl!

I’ve been working on stuff I have to, but also some stuff I want to.

On top of my internship, I’ve taken some time to dig in and do a bit of writing and some design.

When those devastating tornadoes swept through Oklahoma at the end of May, I realized I had the tools to help others, but not the money. I’m a poor college student who also has to scrape something together for a wedding in April. At any rate, I decided to use my love for graphic design to create something for my state.

okheart copy

 

I uploaded my design to CafePress, where it can be put on shirts, magnets, mugs and more. The best part?

I’M DONATING 100% OF THE COMMISSION I EARN TO RELIEF EFFORTS.

These tragedies happened a few months ago, but families are still hurting. And unfortunately, more tornadoes will come eventually. So, I’m trying to do my part.

You can visit my shop if you’d like to take a look around and make a purchase. Thank you in advance!

There’s my truth for today.

 

 

 

And now, for the fiction…

I have always enjoyed writing. It’s a way to escape from reality, explore my own mind and build something from the ground up.

The other day, this little piece of fiction just kind of… happened. Enjoy.

 

Blood Money

“Marry me,” he said, smiling.

“What?” The words didn’t make sense to her.

“Come on, you heard me. Marry me.”

“But why?” She was half smiling, half crying now.

He looked deep into her eyes.

“So you can do the dishes for the rest of our lives.”

He chuckled then, and it was contagious. She giggled at first, and then burst into bubbly laughter.

“Yeah, right, I don’t do the dishes now,” she said between breaths.

“Exactly,” he said. “I just want to spend the rest of my life with you, even if it means I’m stuck with the dishes forever. Marry me!” He ended his plea with a whine.

“But what about the money?” She was no longer laughing; her smile had faded and her eyes were glassy with tears.

He looked away now, afraid to show her the expression on his face.

“Well?” She waited, afraid of his answer.

“It’s gone,” he whispered.

She choked on her tears.

“What?”

“I said it’s gone. All of it.” He started laughing, the kind of laughter that only the madly insane can conjure.

“No,” she backed away. “No, you didn’t do it. Tell me you didn’t do it!” She held a hand over her mouth, anticipating the sobs.

“I did. I did and I have no regrets. I had to do it. For us.” He tried to approach her, slowly, cautiously, offering a hand to wipe her tears.

“How could you think that?” She sobbed and again backed away.

“Baby, come on. I thought you’d be happy.” His face showed confusion and fear.

“Happy?” She snorted. “I’m supposed to be happy that you destroyed one-point-four million dollars?”

“Baby, it was blood money. I didn’t want to be traced. I’d surely rot in prison if anyone ever found out where I got that kind of cash.” He took yet another step toward her.

“Maybe you should,” she said under her breath.

“Baby,” he began.

“No,” she said defiantly, wiping away her tears.

“Baby, we can leave all this behind now. It’s just you and me now,” he urged. “We can go wherever we want, we can get married and we can start over.”

She turned around, feigning grief, and in one smooth motion, removed the revolver from her purse.

“Blood money,” she huffed. “How ironic.”

“Baby?” He couldn’t see her face or her hands. “Baby, what’s ironic?”

She turned to him, the revolver pointed right at his nose.

He stumbled back.

“Baby, why?” He couldn’t think of anything else to say.

She kept the gun pointed at him. “You weren’t supposed to fall for me. This is your fault.”

“But,” he began.

“No,” she snapped. “We were just working together. You were supposed to kill him, get your cut and be on your way. Now you’ve destroyed not only your money but mine, too. I’m just supposed to let that go? To ride off into the sunset with you?”

“I’m trying to start over. I want a clean slate,” his eyes were pleading.

“There’s no such thing.” Her fingers were aching to pull the trigger.

He swallowed. “There could be,” he said softly. “I’ll take care of you.”

“I don’t need you,” she began to shake and her lips quivered. She blinked away tears.

“But I need you,” he said as he reached for the gun.

*click*

He winced and backed away.

“You… You were really going to kill me?” He choked out.

She let out a sharp breath and frantically searched the chamber for bullets.

He chuckled.

“You…” She trailed off, her eyes slowly meeting his, which suddenly seemed to be smoldering.

She dropped the gun. She had caught a glimpse of something shiny and silver at his hip and her eyes went there. He smiled, pointing his own gun straight at her heart.

“The money isn’t gone,” he smiled slyly. “But you’ll never see it again.”

“Lies,” she sniffed, “all of it.”

“No,” he said. “I did fall for you, but money talks. And if I don’t take care of this situation we’re in now, so will you.”

“Blood money…” she whispered.

“What was that you were saying about irony earlier?” he asked as he pulled the trigger.

 

 

It’s rather dark, I know. 

Design and writing are both in my blood, and I use them for different purposes. In this case, I used design as a way to help others, and my writing as a creative outlet.

I think I might have another short story in the works……………………..

Stay tuned.

 

About Ky

I'm Kylea. Or Ky. Or Foxy. Or Hey, You. Or whatever you decide to call me. I'm passionate, creative and weird. I have depression, anxiety and chronic fatigue. I love journalism, the paranormal, makeup, animals, crafts and lots of nerdy and not-so-nerdy things. I'm never bored.

Posted on July 18, 2013, in Uncategorized and tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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