Please don't put me in the 'Mom Blogger' box, I am capable of so much more...

(For the final post of my two week 'Best of 2012' series, I thought I would finish with a post that is truly one of my favorites. I wrote a couple of short entries for the Trifecta Writing Challenge during the week forty-six challenge, when the word prompt was DEATH. I had to use the third definition from Merriam Webster's Online Dictionary: 3 capitalized : the destroyer of life represented usually as a skeleton with a scythe

The first story came to me instantly. I mean a huge novel worth of ideas just popped into my head! I could clearly envision the plot twists and turns, even the wicked badass ending that makes you want to scream. This had never happened to me before... the story actually ate at me until I turned it into a short story. The second entry I wrote to make me and FTD laugh...  I hope you enjoy them...)

The Broken Bride

In the darkness of night she stumbled home shoeless and confused.  Her memory of the night's events were hazy to say the least. Only a few hours earlier she was standing at the altar marrying the love of her life. Now she was alone, bruised, battered and a cold blooded killer. 

Her last clear memory was changing out of her wedding dress in the Honeymoon suite of the hotel, when the dark figure lunged from the closet. The man began attacking her husband. As she ran to help Luka, the intruder grabbed a table lamp and threw it at her. The cheap ceramic vase shattered against her head, knocking her out.

She woke up bound and gagged. Looming over her, covered in her husband's blood, was her ex-boyfriend. His eyes were locked on her, oozing of hate. His ora dark and sinister, seething of pure evil. He was Death wrapped in flesh. 

She was to blame for this monster. She was also to blame for Luka's death. This was not at all how her perfect plan was supposed to play out...

The Mudslide

I was startled out of a deep sleep from the sounds of agony and pure discomfort. I knew my actions from earlier in the night might warrant this, but so soon? The horrifying sounds were deafening, and painting a very gruesome picture.

I crawled out of bed and tip toed cautiously to the door. The stench coming from the other room was near paralyzing. Tears began to well up in my eyes. Slowly, I crept towards the nursery, shaking, holding my breath, terrified at what I might find.

I turned on the light to find a sight so sinister, so shocking, it was even worse than I had imagined. The baby and his crib were covered in a massive spray of shit. It looked like a mudslide had fallen into his crib.

There was only one explanation for what had come from my 8-month-old son's ass, his bowls were possessed by Death himself. He was trying to teach me a lesson. I dropped to my knees cussing Death's fury.

It was going to take the rest of the night to clean up this mess... All because of a tiny bowl of chili.

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