#FSS, Fiction, Flash Fiction, Prompt, Story Starter, Writing

Fandango’s Story Starter #149

Fandango

It’s time for my weekly Story Starter prompt. Here’s how it works. Every Tuesday morning (my time), I’m going to give you a “teaser” sentence or sentence fragment and your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to build a story (prose or poetry) around that sentence/fragment. It doesn’t have to be the first sentence in your story, and you don’t even have to use it in your post at all if you don’t want to. The purpose of the teaser is simply to spark your imagination and to get your storytelling juices flowing.

This week’s Story Starter teaser is:

“You don’t know me, but I’m the ex-wife of your new boyfriend,” the woman said to Pamela when she answered her door, “and he’s not who you think he is.”

If you care to write and post a story built from this teaser, be sure to link back to this post and tag your post with #FSS. I would also encourage you to read and enjoy what your fellow bloggers do with their stories.

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The Ex-Wife (1130 words)

By Tessa Dean May 2024

“You don’t know me, but I’m the ex-wife of your new boyfriend,” the woman said to Pamela when she answered her door, “and he’s not who you think he is.”

Pamela looked stunned. She didn’t know this woman, although she had often noticed her lurking around her street. She clearly had an agenda.

“What do you mean? Peter and I have been dating for several months now, and I know everything about him. He doesn’t keep me in the dark. I have met his family and friends. He never mentioned you. He said he had never been married before, and no one else told me about an ex-wife. What do you want from me?”

“Of course, he wouldn’t tell you about me. I am the wife who got away. All his ex-wives had met untimely and suspicious deaths. I started to look into his past when I became suspicious. I went into hiding with one of the cops at the local police station when I mentioned my suspicions about Peter, and he helped me look into his past. To be safe, he moved me in with him.”

Pamela tried to shut the door, but the woman put her foot into the space and blocked her from shutting the door all the way.

“You would be better off if you listened to me. I am only trying to protect you. I would hate to see another young woman die a mysterious death.”

“Go away before I call the police,” she said, pulling harder on the door, trying to shut the woman out. “I mean it. I will call the police. I don’t know what your agenda is, but I don’t believe you. Go away!”

The woman held a list of names and told her to look them up online. She would see that they all had one thing in common. They were all married to a Peter, with various last names. He changed his last name every time, but the description fits Peter, including the broken heart tattoo. She tried to hand the paper to the woman.

“Peter will be home soon, and I will tell him someone is trying to interfere with our lives.”

“Please listen to me,” the woman pleaded with her. “I am only trying to save your life. Listen, tell me, does he have a broken heart tattoo on his left bicep?”

The woman appeared to be thinking about what she had been told. She remembered that he had a tattoo on his left bicep and refused to talk about it. She had never pressed him about it since he wasn’t willing to talk about it. She had figured that he had a broken heart over some relationship, and that tattoo was a reminder of that time, and he didn’t want to talk about it with her. She never pushed it.

“Why should I listen to you?” she asked, letting the door open again. The woman pushed inside.

“Please listen to me. Do you have a computer handy so you can look these names up?”

“Ok, fine, come in quickly. There isn’t much time before Peter returns.

They settled at the computer, and Pamela started at the top of the list and looked each woman up and noted that each story talked about her husband with a tattoo on his left bicep and asking the public to be on the lookout for this man wanted in connection to the suspicious deaths of each woman. In each case, the man’s first name was Peter. The police were on the case and actively seeking information.

Pamela became uneasy and asked the woman her name. “Miranda Stillwell,” she replied.

Pamela started to tell Miranda that she noticed that he went out a lot, and he always insisted that he go alone. She was now beginning to wonder what he was up to during these times he left her alone. He took her out, of course, but he preferred to go out alone more often.

Suddenly, the door slammed open, and the two women jumped. Peter looked at Miranda and shouted, “ What are YOU doing here?”

Miranda fumbled in her handbag for the can of mace she carried, but Peter was on her quickly. Pamela moved to the side and searched for her phone so she could call 9-1-1, but she couldn’t find it fast enough. Peter had pulled a gun on them.

Pamela, while in shock, asked Peter what he was doing. His attention was still drawn to Miranda. She noticed a cop coming in the still open door. He had a gun trained on Peter and told him to drop the gun and move away from the two women.

“Drop it,” he said again. His eyes never left Peter. “You aren’t getting away with another murder, Peter Weatherspoon. I have a witness to your escapades. Don’t try anything funny because I have a backup team arriving momentarily, and we are taking you in this time. Miranda, get over here and bring the woman with you. Get behind me.”

Peter just watched as Pamela followed Miranda to stand behind the policeman. He didn’t try to shoot her. He debated briefly about his options but finally put the gun down.

“How did you find me?” Peter asked.

“Miranda has been searching for you since you left her for dead at your old apartment. She was determined to bring you down for all the murders of your past ex-wives. You somehow didn’t manage to kill her, and since you left her for dead, a neighbor found her soon enough to save her life. You are not going to get away with this. Hopefully, Pamela here will also be a witness against you. Miranda mentioned that she was sure she had located you and would warn the girlfriend. She gave me her address so I could follow her and hopefully catch you here.”

Pamela was still in shock. “Peter, how could you? I trusted you. Why didn’t you tell me about your ex-wives? Why did all of your friends keep your past secret from me? No one ever mentioned Miranda or anyone else for that matter.”

“That’s because they didn’t know about my past. I had just met them all. They knew me as Peter Weatherspoon and that I was unmarried and had never been married before. Miranda wasn’t around to tell them, and to be honest, I had no idea she was still alive. I should have listened to the news, I guess.”

The backup team arrived, and Peter was handcuffed and taken outside for the ride to the police station. Miranda offered to take Pamela down to the police station so she could file a report and give a statement. She promised to bring her home again after she was done.

Tessa – 

Advocate for mental health and invisible illnesses

New Author’s Website – http://www.tessadeanauthor.wordpress.com

Author – Old Writing –  http://www.finallyawriter.wordpress.com

About my life –  http://www.tessacandoit.wordpress.com

#FSS, Fiction, Prompt, Writing

Fandango’s Story Starter #148

Fandango

It’s time for my weekly Story Starter prompt. Here’s how it works. Every Tuesday morning (my time), I’m going to give you a “teaser” sentence or sentence fragment and your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to build a story (prose or poetry) around that sentence/fragment. It doesn’t have to be the first sentence in your story, and you don’t even have to use it in your post at all if you don’t want to. The purpose of the teaser is simply to spark your imagination and to get your storytelling juices flowing.

This week’s Story Starter teaser is:

She held out her arms to hug me, but I knew this wasn’t my house — and she definitely wasn’t my wife.

If you care to write and post a story built from this teaser, be sure to link back to this post and tag your post with #FSS. I would also encourage you to read and enjoy what your fellow bloggers do with their stories.

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Missing!

By Tessa Dean May 2024

She held out her arms to hug me, but I knew this wasn’t my house — and she definitely wasn’t my wife.

I struggled to get out of the policeman’s grasp. He was trying to push me toward the woman I had never seen before. She continued to claim she was my wife and that she was so glad to see me at home. 

“Sir, I don’t know who this woman is or why you insist on bringing me here, but this is not my house, and she is not my wife. Why don’t you believe me?”

“Sir, we found you wandering around, and we had just received a phone call from your wife that you were missing.”

“She is not my wife! I have never seen this woman before. I swear to you, I don’t understand what is going on here.”

The policeman stopped shoving me toward her. He looked at her and said, “Can you show me proof that this is your husband?”

She said, “Would our wedding picture help?”

“That would be a start, ma’am.”

She turned around and headed back inside to grab a picture off the shelf. She handed it to him. He studied the picture, which showed both of us in wedding attire, but it was a very recent picture.

He noticed that it was a recent picture and asked her for her wedding date.

“It was just last week. I can’t imagine why he says he doesn’t remember it. We had a very large wedding at a local establishment; although he had no family, mine was in full attendance. You can ask any of them about it.”

The policemen turned to me and said, “Sir, is that not you in the photo?”

“No, he replied, “It is my twin brother, Mark! I gather he never told you about me.”

“A twin brother,” she looked surprised. “No, Mark never mentioned he had a twin brother.”

“That doesn’t surprise me at all, as he has done this over and over, and you are not the first woman he has married and pretended to be me. You will find that he is a con artist, and I am afraid you fell for it.”

“Sir,” the policeman asked. “Can I see your identification, please?”

I pulled out my wallet and showed him my license. It was in the name of Clark Brown. 

“My brother has probably already wiped out your bank account and is on the run. That is his usual way of doing things. I am sorry, but I am not your husband, and I am sorry you were taken by him. The policeman is already here, so why don’t you file a report? If you look at your bank account or accounts, I am sure you will find them empty.”

The woman was dumbfounded and asked the policeman what should she do. He told her to gather all of the information she had, including her wedding license, and told her to check her accounts to see if what I had told her was true. 

She took out her phone, pulled up her banking app, and cried out when she saw a zero balance on her checking and savings accounts. She had trusted him and added him to both accounts because he told her he didn’t have an account and that they should have joint accounts since they were married. She began to cry as the full implications of the situation hit her. 

“Am I free to go yet? I have no idea where he is or where he would head next.” I felt sorry for her, but there was nothing I could do. I was no longer in contact with my brother as I didn’t approve of his lifestyle of robbing people. He had even gotten to me when he first started this chain of conning people out of their life savings. He pretended to be me and emptied my accounts as well. Luckily, I didn’t have much money, so he wasn’t really interested in me anymore.

Tessa – 

Advocate for mental health and invisible illnesses

New Author’s Website – http://www.tessadeanauthor.wordpress.com

Author – Old Writing –  http://www.finallyawriter.wordpress.com

About my life –  http://www.tessacandoit.wordpress.com

#FSS, Fiction, Photo Prompt, Prompt, Writing

Fandango’s Story Starter #147

Fandango

It’s time for my weekly Story Starter prompt. Here’s how it works. Every Tuesday morning (my time), I’m going to give you a “teaser” sentence or sentence fragment and your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to build a story (prose or poetry) around that sentence/fragment. It doesn’t have to be the first sentence in your story, and you don’t even have to use it in your post at all if you don’t want to. The purpose of the teaser is simply to spark your imagination and to get your storytelling juices flowing.

This week’s Story Starter teaser is:

With a sudden rush of panic, I realized I had no idea where I was.

If you care to write and post a story built from this teaser, be sure to link back to this post and tag your post with #FSS. I would also encourage you to read and enjoy what your fellow bloggers do with their stories.

***********

Lost!

By Tessa Dean May 2024

The moon slid behind the clouds, plunging the path Bingo, my dog, and I were following into darkness.  With a sudden rush of panic, I realized I had no idea where I was.

Bingo, sensing my unease, began to pull on his leash, leading us astray from the familiar path and deeper into the dense woods. I struggled to restrain him, my eyes desperately scanning the pitch-black surroundings for any familiar landmarks. We traveled this route countless times, yet the shroud of darkness played tricks on my memory.

Bingo suddenly stopped, and I pulled his leash closer to me. I prayed the moon would come back out so I could see where we were. Bingo was sniffing, so I pulled out my phone and opened the flashlight app to see where we were. Shining the light around, I found the path we had been on, but there was no sight of the intersecting path we needed to take to get back out of there and to the road where I had parked the car on the shoulder. 

I was trying to decide what to do. We probably walked past the intersecting path in the dark, but I wasn’t sure. I stopped and hoped the clouds would move off the moon, which would give us some light to work with. I had the flashlight, though, so I could use the light to find the path if needed.

Stepping back onto the main path, I shined the flashlight on the path ahead of me and found nothing, so I turned us around and shined the light back the way we had come, looking for the path we needed to be on to get out of there. Slowly, I inched us forward until the path came into view. We turned onto the intersecting path and headed back toward the exit, which would bring us close to where I had parked.

Bingo continued sniffing the area and trying to pull me back into the woods. I tightened my grip on the leash and pulled him steadily toward me and the path back to my car. I almost cheered when the asphalt road was in front of me, and as the moon reappeared, I could see my car off to the side. We had finally made it. I made a mental note not to walk the dog on this path so late at night.

Tessa – 

Advocate for mental health and invisible illnesses

New Author’s Website – http://www.tessadeanauthor.wordpress.com

Author – Old Writing –  http://www.finallyawriter.wordpress.com

About my life –  http://www.tessacandoit.wordpress.com