AN: So I've finally got a piece of Long Fiction under my belt. This is a piece written for my Writer's Craft class. I've been working on this for months, and hopefully the final product reflects my hard work. Please R&R.
To read about the writing process, or to see some of my other work, check out my website found under my profile.
Great. Now you've done it. You gonna blame this one on me too? They'll lock you up you know… Even if it's not in prison, they'll lock you up. I can't get you out of everything.
I pause, waiting for her to gather her thoughts. You would think that with practice you would've been able to control yourself. But no, you had to go and do this. You've gone and fucked us both.
"Quiet! Please, just let me think." She whispers, her voice sounds pitiful as it echoes off the landscape.
Take your time. I say, refusing to hide my sarcasm for her sorry benefit. There's no rush, the cops won't be here for another ten minutes at least. Plenty of time.
I laugh at the situation. Who would have thought?
"Please," she says. "Jane, help me."
That's why I'm here, remember? I shout. To help you! You should have let me help you! But I wasn't enough was I? This is not an acceptable form of self-expression, I scream letting the anger I feel seep into my words. I laugh again. Sometimes life's situations have a way of seeming almost like folk tales; warning innocent children what happens when you go astray.
Nice work, Lisa. I continue. You always were one for the planning.
"Jane," she pleads. "It was an accident."
Is everything you do out of line an accident? I ask.