#SnippetSunday 9: Twisting my arm

It’s the first Snippet Sunday and Weekend Writing Warriors of March.   The story so far has its own, dedicated page for catching up purposes.  It’s a bit of a short one.  Good news, though: we’ve found Charlie!


 

“You can’t compel me.  I have a right to refuse treatment.”  My arms are bound, I can’t get them free, I’m tired but I keep pulling.  The IV twists in my arm; it hurts with every movement, but that’s hardly a reason to stop.  “You hear me?  I refuse treatment; get it off me!”

No one is listening.  There’s a slamming sound across the room, the door opens a second later, and a hospital bed rolls in with a guy handcuffed to it.  With Shane handcuffed to it.  Someone beat the hell out of him.


There’s my Snippet for the week, I hope you enjoyed it.  If you did, I encourage you to leave a comment, perhaps explore the rest of my site, and maybe Sign Up for my mailing list.  All it takes is a name and an email, the cover of Headless is coming to that list on 3/17 everyone else is going to have to wait a bit.  That’s in addition to the free copy of Break you get your hands on automatically, just for signing up, plus an exclusive short story coming a couple months down the road.

#SnippetSunday 8: Tachypsychia

Welcome back to Snippet Sunday and Weekend Writing Warriors at SamTWillis.com.   The story so far has its own, dedicated page in case you’re interested.  We rejoin the story smack in the middle of our first extended scene, picking up a second, or a fraction of one, after last week’s Snippet left off.  On to the good stuff.


“Stop right there!  Take your hands out of your pockets, slowly, and put them on the roof of the car.”

It hadn’t even occurred to me until that instant, when I saw the panic on his face.  My right hand is closed around my phone, and it’s nice and dark, and all I’d have to do it pull it out of my pocket fast, like I was trying to beat him to the draw, and that would be the end of it.  But I don’t really want that, and even if I do I don’t have the guts.  Funny, the things you think of in those stretched-out moments.

“You have until the count of three to comply!”

I can see Charlie, in my mind’s eye, in the exact same spot, staring into a barrel and finding it meaningless.  But I would have heard of it if he had, suicide by cop would make the papers.  I’m apparently unable to act at all now, I just stand there and stare dumbly at the cop as he approaches, only lowering his gun when he’s safely behind me, emptying my pockets like they’re on a mannequin’s legs.

 


There’s my Snippet for the week, I hope you enjoyed it.  If you did, I encourage you to leave a comment, perhaps explore the rest of my site, and maybe Sign Up for my mailing list.  All it takes is a name and an email, and it nets you a free copy of my Novella, Break, as well as the first chance for other free stuff coming in the near future.  Thanks for visiting!

#SnippetSunday 7: Spotlight

Well, I missed a week.  It probably won’t be the last time, but I’ll try to plan better for at least the next few weeks.  Welcome back to Snippet Sunday and Weekend Writing Warriors at SamTWillis.com.   The story so far has its own, dedicated page for catch-up purposes, if you’re interested.  We’re sticking with Shane, and it’s a few hours later.  Night has fallen, and he’s still in the same spot.


He’s not coming, obviously he’s never coming, but I can’t think of anything else to do but wait.  At some point staring at an empty parking lots turns into staring at the insides of my eyelids, and I’m out for what feels like the first time in a week.

In my dreams I’m back on the couch at Gwen’s house, Charlie is out in the side bedroom, his medication has knocked him out early again.  The two of them, those idiots who couldn’t be bothered to just wait until he was across the country, are all over each other.  I can’t see them, my head won’t seem to turn that way, but the couch shifts continuously in time with their…everything.  Ryan’s back bumps into me, there’s nowhere near enough couch for me to stay here, I need to give up on the idea that my presence is a deterrent to anything.  They’ve clearly forgotten I’m even in the room.  I get up, off the couch, and trudge towards the basement, making no effort to be quiet about it, the lights flashing weirdly in my face, hurting my eyes.

Said eyes pop open, in the car behind the store again, and the light that’s flashing at me is attached to a police cruiser because of course it is.  Half asleep, and not even thinking about the right thing to do, I get out of the car with my hands stuffed in my pockets.

 

 


There’s my Snippet for the week, I hope you enjoyed it.  If you did, I encourage you to leave a comment, perhaps explore the rest of my site, and maybe Sign Up for my mailing list.  All it takes is a name and an email, and it nets you a free copy of my Novella, Break, as well as the first chance for other free stuff coming in the near future.  Thanks for visiting!

#SnippetSunday 5: My Fault

Once again, today is Snippet Sunday, time for Weekend Writing Warriors too.   I’ve compiled the story so-far on its own, dedicated page, so that’s available …

#SnippetSunday 4: The Voicemail

Welcome, my friends, to another edition of Snippet Sunday and Weekend Writing Warriors! I’m picking up the story from the last two weeks once more, …

#SnippetSunday 3: Smoke break

Welcome to this week’s edition of Snippet Sunday.  And this time around, I’ve joined the Weekend Writing Warriors list as well.  Big time stuff!  This …

#SnippetSunday Number 1: The Arowana

It’s alliterative, it’s a Facebook group, and it’s an excuse to write stories: it’s Snippet Sunday!  For my inaugural snippet (snippet being an …

Show Buttons
Hide Buttons