Hey guys! It's been a crazy week but Wednesday is finally here and I have a fun prompt for us all to do. Just a reminder that my book is free on amazon TODAY ONLY. So if you haven't yet, grab a copy here! Now let's get to the writing...
Prompt Six
Finish the story starting with the sentence provided.
She'd have to hitch a ride home.
My response
She'd have to hitch a ride home after he dumped her like a bag of trash. Damn him, for leaving her on prom night. Of course, she knew dating the star football jock would only result in her heartbreak but prom, of all places? She grunted while kicking some dirt as she trekked down the dirt path towards her home.
"Miss, can I offer a ride?" A man from a darkened windowed, mercedes called out. His window was only cracked about two inches but his eyes peeked out from the top. The emerald orbs were dazzling, hypnotizing her and rendering her speechless.
"Sure." She whispered, barely audible but the man smiled, his cheeks turning up only slightly signaling he definitely heard. She walked in front of the black car, the headlights showcasing her for a moment before she stepped past the lights.
"Welcome." The man said in a deep, dark voice. The sound made goosebumps erupt in patches all over her pale body. As if being commanded, she sat in the passenger seat, clicked her seat belt on and then turned towards the stranger.
"Who are you?" The girl asked, amazed by this mans unreal face. He had a tan complexion with dark as night hair falling just over his ears. His eyes popped like nothing else against the dark background, the jade color offsetting.
"I'm a Vlad and you're mine." He snarled, lunging across the center barrier and burying his face in her shoulder, taking all the life force out of her and selfishly taking it for himself.
Another good one. Here's mine. A little longer than last time. Sorry.
ReplyDeleteShe'd have to hitch a ride home. Again. Well after midnight on a cloudy, cool night, Jenna Crisp sighed, pulled her long blonde hair into a ponytail, and began to walk down the white stripe of Highway 67’s left shoulder. Most slim, twenty-two year-old girls might be nervous, maybe even terrified, of being stranded alone on a dark, lonely stretch of highway. But, as Jenna’s mom was fond of saying, this wasn’t her first rodeo.
Jenna’s barista coworkers enjoyed pointing out the numerous flaws in her judgment of men. Her mother had long since given up, instead relying on praying for her safety and a sudden influx of common sense. Jenna’s standard rebuttal was always, “The heart wants what the heart wants.” If anyone had been truly known and cared for Jenna, they wouldn’t have let her get away with such a weak and high-schoolish statement. But, no one did.
Earlier, Jenna and her seemingly lucky escort had laughingly staggered out the door of a typical roadside tavern, seemingly lost in alcohol and each other. Less than thirty minutes later, in his car, in front of his trailer, Jenna reached her unyielding point of denial, dug in her heels (literally) and ended up having to leave on foot. Again.
It didn’t take long for the first car to stop. It never did. The oncoming car’s headlights, obviously on brights because of the dark country road, lit her up like a low full moon. Seeing the tell-tale round headlights of a late-model BMW with tinted windows made her pulse rate spike. After pulling out her ponytail, her right hand dipped into a tiny purse hanging from her hip. Despite the passenger window sliding down, Jenna sauntered to the driver’s side. His window seemed to race downward.
The driver, baby-faced with dark eyes, was younger than she expected. He tossed her a nod and asked, “You okay?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
He leaned forward, glanced back and forth at the blackness of the road and night, and smiled. “Well, most women wouldn’t enjoy being in your position right now.”
With her left hip out and right arm down, she answered, “Well, that may be. But, I’m not like most women.”
The driver again leaned forward, elbows across the door, looked from her lipstick red heels up to her wide green eyes, kept eye contact, and answered, “Maybe you are, and maybe you’re not. It’s too early to tell. Need a ride?”
Jenna smiled with sparkling eyes, leaned towards the driver, and said, “I’d rather give you a ride.”
The driver raised his eyebrows and beamed.
“Easy, Romeo. I mean I’ll drive. There’s too many creeps and killers out here. If I’m getting in your car, I’m behind the wheel.”
“No one drives this car but me.”
“Then beat it.”
Jenna started walking past the car, this time down the center line of Highway 67. Predictably, the driver backed up to Jenna, stopped the car, and began to yell. Jenna finally pulled her right hand from her purse and triggered a healthy pull of Sabre Pepper Spray into his left shoulder. The mist from the impact drifted towards his eyes and nose. Before he could bring his hands to his squinting and watering eyes, Jenna stepped forward, the dripping can aimed high.
“Don’t. Keep ‘em down.”
“But-”
“No. Keep them down or the rest of this can goes full bore in your face. Now step out of your car. Don’t argue or whine. Just do it.”
A few minutes later, with Jenna miles away in the BMW, Kenny Wiley began thinking of ways to explain to his brother what happened to his car. Kenny figured he’d have plenty of time to think of something believable, since he'd have to hitch a ride home.
I loved the twist in the story! You're a really great writer. I enjoyed this one a lot! Keep commenting!!!!
DeleteThanks for your kind words, Taylor. (You're not so bad yourself, btw. Keep it up.) I'll do my best to continue "commenting". Write on.
ReplyDelete