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 Posted: Thu May 13, 2010 5:28 pm
It's just something I write for fun when I'm bored or just have some bad luck. I guess it's alright, It probably has a few errors here and there, but I haven't been writing for very long. Anybody wanna read it and give me a bit of what you think?
It's titled, "Dancing with bad people"
I know, creative title. cool
First Chaper>>
Dark motels are places I've visited too many times in this lifetime. The serenity and both the questionable sounds you hear it them are too familiar to me. I watch a woman walk into a room with a man, about six foot tall, he has blonde hair and a crooked smile. As I walk to find my room, I hear the sound of more footsteps coming from down the hall. A tall man, looking of Latin descent walks right past me, leaving the sent of cologne and sweat trailing behind. I had come to Chicago now because I quit the dancing academy back in New Jersey, and I was looking to find something to occupy myself here. I walked by a mirror in the hallway, hanging on the wall delicately. I tried to fix myself, I had pale blonde hair that was short, in a way that resembled Marilyn Monroe's, I was a bit short, some might say, but to more people I was the average size. A black jacket with a black bustier underneath of it, a black skirt, and a small headpiece. All of it a contrast against my pale skin tone.
As I edged closer to my room, I heard an awful scream. "Marco! Aaaah, Marco suerta me! Let go, you dog, you dirty b***h, you dirty b***h..." I slowly turned around to see that in the room where it was coming from, the door was a crack open. I peeked inside, seeing nothing, but hearing the screams become louder. I walked in, not making a sound I found them.
There was the same Latino man, only his shirt was off, only his suspenders, and he had necklaces with crosses on them dangling onto him. He was holding a woman by her neck, also pinning her to the wall against the bathroom mirror. She was goreous, black short hair with pale skin and red lips, she was wearing a skimpy, black satin bathrobe on top of an also revealing pair of undergarments.
Frightened, I put my back to the wall and listened to what he said to her. "Maria! Silencio!" She screamed again, and as soon as she was ready to belt another one out, there was a thud and it was quiet. He breathed in deeply, and then began walking. I slipped into a closet, and quietly shut it, seeing through a small crack that he walked right passed it. I heard him walk out and close the door. Opening the closet door a crack, I saw that it was possibly safe to get out. But first, I went into the bathroom to see what had happened. Lying in the bath-tub, lifeless, there she was. Her eyes were wide open, green colored. She had blood trickling from her mouth and there was a knife thrust into her side. I started breathing faster, terrified I stood there frozen. The last time I had ever seen anybody dead was when I was at my mother's viewing. I was about four years old as I stared at my dead mother in the casket, I asked why her mouth looked so funny. It was because it was stitched closed. I fell back onto the floor and screamed.
The sound of the door of the room opening, again dawned on me. He was here.
"Maldita!" I turned myself around and faced him. "Quien eres tu, eh?" He was sweating, speaking in an angry, fast tone. "I don't- I don't... I don't speak spanish."
He just stared at me. "What are you gonna do?" I whispered.
Another minute went by, he pulled something out from his back pocket. "Talk to me." I coaxed him. "Why are you here?" He spoke clear english, barely an accent. "I...I thought I heard something."
"That doesn't give you the right to come in here." He shouted, I backed away slightly, until my head hit the bathtub and I screamed again. "You killed her..." I said, a tear coming frm my eye. He grabbed me by my arm and started dragging me along the floor. I kicked him in frustration, punching his arm, but it barely had an affect on him. He threw me into the closet where I'd just been hiding, slamming the door and then locking it.
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Posted: Thu May 13, 2010 5:29 pm
Chapter 2
In that same closet, I woke up, it was already the afternoon of another day.
I gasped, my hands sliding across the walls, searching for something to hold on to.
I hated not feeling in control, ever since I was young, I felt the need to be in control. Being locked in a closet by an unusual latino man that just murdered a young lady wasn't exactly what I enjoyed.
I started knocking on the closet door gently, until it finally turned into me banging on the doors violently. "Let me out! Let me out! Please... Just let me out!" I shuddered and backed into the corner of the closet. A couple minutes later I heard foot-steps making their way to the closet. The closet slid open slowly, the sun coming in with it. The same guy was standing there from yesterday, no suprise. "Hello." He was wearing the same thing as last night, only difference now was that he had a freshly lit cigar in hand. "You basterd." I shreiked as I stood up.
"Que paso chiqutia?" He grinned, putting out a hand to help me up. "Didn't enjoy your stay?"
"Don't touch me." I replied as I made my way to the door.
"Where do you think your going?" he asked.
"I'm not staying here with some kind of killer. I don't want anything to do with you, or that poor girl you just killed." I implied. He laughed and then pulled a small knife from his back pocket, holding it to my neck carefully. "Like I would trust you."
"Put it down...Put it down, or so help me..." I mumbled, my head backing into the wall. "Ha. I'd like to see what you'd do." I swallowed hard and looked him straight in the eye. "What are you going to do with me?"
He sighed. "To tell you the truth, I'm not sure yet."
I laughed. "Why don't you just kill me, too?" I challenged him, like an idiot.
"Su muy inteligente, Lolita. Pero sería una vergüenza para matar a una chica tan hermosa y valiente como tú. Su estúpido, Como un niño."
(Your very smart, Lolita. But it would be a shame to kill a girl as beautiful and fearless as you. But yes, your stupid. Like a child.)
"You do know that I can't understand a damned word that your saying, right?"
He told me what it meant in english.
"Go fix yourself." he said. "Fix myself? Where the hell are you going to take me?"
"Club."
"Killers go out to clubs?"
He turned around and gave me a look.
"Hmm." I walked towards the bathroom, suitcase in hand, when I remembered what was there just the other night. I screamed.
"What the hell?" He stormed towards the bathroom. "Give me another room to change. I will not get changed in there."
"What's wrong with this room?"
"Everything." He sighed and lead me into a bedroom.
"Hurry up."
He shut the door behind me and I sat in the room. There was a crucifix hanging on the bed post, along with some dirty clothes. I turned to the mirror and fixed my hair alittle bit. Digging into my suitcase, I found a shirt that was shoulderless, and a pair of black denim jeans that went to my knees. A couple bracelets and a string tied in my hair made to look like a bow. I walked out of the bedroom and saw that the man was standing there, a whole back of cigars in his hand. "Is this good?"
He looked me over and nodded, but didn't look satisfied.
"What's your name?"
"Giovanna. How about yourself?"
"Marco." He mumbled.
An hour later, we went to the club. I started to be less and less bothered by the fact that I was going with a murderer, strangely enough.
The people were crowding into this club fast. The whole vibe of this place got my blood pumping. "Let's go dance!" Marco had been holding my hand this whole time. I let go and rushed into the crowd happily. As soon as I got into this crowd, a blonde guy, just a bit taller then me, started dancing with me energetically. "That all you got?!" I shouted, trying to raise my voice higher then the music. I started dancing faster and putting my back into it. Soon enough, I had a little crowd around me. A short ginger shot through the crowd and started dancing with me. "Hey sweet-cheeks." He shouted. "What you want?" I shouted as the song changed. "If I could re-arrange the alphabet, I would put U and I together."
"Get lost jackass."
He shrugged, unbothered.
I continued to dance with the crowd until a felt something gripping my arm. "Hey babe, don't get too rough there-" It was Marco. "Little b***h has got some moves, eh?"
"Are you trying to flirt with me?" I rolled my eyes as he smiled.
He took my hands in his and twirled me, then throwing me and catching me.
"Where is this coming from?" I laughed as he threw me around and the crowd cheered. This club was playing latino music, the loud trumpets and happy groove of the music was a nice transition, and Marco looked like he was enjoying it.
"Go faster!" I hollered. He smirked as he worked harder to impress the audience, and quite possibly me.
After about an hour of dancing like that, I got tired and asked him to buy me a drink. "Get me anything."
"Get me two margaritas." He told the bartender as he slid the money onto the counter.
He handed me the shiny glass and I chugged it down effortlessly.
"Get me another shot..."
After about seven more drinks, I was very drunk.
"Hey, darlin'!" A boy that looked about seventeen started to dance with me. I took his head and held it to my chest- him not caring- and started singing Madonna's Like a Virgin
I laughed and let him go, heading to the DJ's area.
"Can I see the microphoneee?" I stuttered.
"Babe, maybe you should sit down."
"Shhhh! Boy, I ******** said to shut up!" I laughed.
He gave me a weird look. "Listen boy, if you were any sweeter I might have to spread you on a cracker."
He laughed at my cheesey pickup line. I sighed and took the microphone from the stand. "Alright everybody!" I said. "Tonight is Madonna's night."
The DJ began to play Into the Groove and I sang along happily. "Live you your fantasy here with me! Just let the music set you free..." The crowd was cheering me on as I sang beside the DJ.
Everything looks so blurry...Why does it look this way?
Ah-hah. It's because your wasted you silly girl. I thought.
Last thing I remember of that night was Marco pulling me out in his arms, getting into his stolen car, and driving away quickly.
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Posted: Thu May 13, 2010 5:31 pm
Chapter 3
I woke up in a warm bed. A nice, soft, warm bed. The sheets were all white and smelled like cologne. I shook myself and popped my head out from under the covers. "Hmm." I stretched. As I sat up, I became a bit more aware of my surroundings, I could hear snoring in the nearby room. I quietly got out of the bed and tip-toed to the door. Marco was sleeping on a large blanket on the floor. "Okay," I whispered. "I'm going to get out of here now." I quietly tied my hair away from my face in a messy ponytail and packed away any clothes that I saw were mine. I put on my boots and headed for the door. I slowly began to unlock it, but suddenly the knob got stuck and I began to gently tug on it. Or apparently, not so gently, because it dropped to the hard floor and made a loud ringing noise.
I turned my head to see if Marco had woke up, he did. "Where are you going?" He said sluggishly, but still in a bit of a threatening way. "Uh. You were out of milk."
He sighed. "I thought you had fun last night. Why the hell are you trying to leave?"
I turned to face him all the way. "Because I shouldn't be here. I don't know you. The only thing I know is that your a murderer, and that I can't stay here."
He grunted. "I don't understand why your keeping me here, anyway. I won't tell anybody because none of this is my concern. I only want to go on with my life without being trapped in a motel room with some stranger." He looked hurt for a second, but he was automatically on guard again. "Well isn't everybody a stranger until you get to know them?"
"Yes. I suppose. But strangers that are criminals are not in the classification of 'worth getting to know'." He stood up. "Well, it's true that you don't understand or know anything about me."
"What are you just lonely? You kill super models to get attention from other girls and then trap them in your motel room until they kill themselves or find a way to escape?"
He chuckled, but in a cold way. "No. I promise that's not why."
"Explain to me then why you killed her, then."
He rolled his eyes. "You aren't afraid of me at all? I just killed somebody and your acting like I'm some kind of high school boy that your breaking up with."
"Stop stalling, and tell me why!" I demanded.
"Mira Lolita," He said. "I'm getting impatient."
"Tell me and if it's good then I won't leave so fast." I said. He took a deep breath and stared at his feet. There was about five minutes of uncomfortable silence. Finally he said something.
"Her...her brother killed my sister. She was only eleven, and she was all I had..."
He turned around as his voice started to shake and I saw a tear make it's way from his eye. "Come on man, don't be a wimp. Don't...D-don't..." I hated seeing this, I knew what it was like to have someone you loved die. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry." I whispered as I put my hand on his shoulder.
"I did it for her," He spun around to face me. "For my little Lolita." He whispered.
"That guy is a b***h." I mumbled. "Why'd he kill her?"
"I don't know.."
"But I did it to get back at him. Lola was the only family I had left. I worked very hard... for her to be happy, and... I just don't know." He shook his head. "Is your question answered now?"
I nodded. "But why keep me here? I promise I will never tell..." I whispered.
"I understand what it's like to lose somebody." He was quiet.
"I can stay for a little while longer... if you promise not to molest me." I said the last part in more of a whisper. He laughed. "You remind me of her. She was always very... aggressive."
"I'm aggressive?"
"Oye. Nobody ever told you?"
"I thought they were just joking!" I stood up and laughed as he shook his head, smiling.
After we were done laughing, I finally managed to talk. "I guess I have no choice then to stay with you, then."
For the first time I had a good look at Marco. Muscular and tall, he was a very well built guy. He was tan, and had short, wavy, black hair. His eyes were a deep brown and he was kind of good looking.
cool
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