Trailer Park

[HumanePain]

I was one of the last in the trailer park, most everyone moved out after old Mrs. Lee was killed last month. I wanted to leave too, but I have no place to go, nobody will hire a man with a missing leg in this logging town, my crutch chained me to unemployment, and this trailer park was the only place that would let me stay without paying rent. They wanted somebody to be a tenant, in the hopes of attracting other would be renters, to try and disprove the news, gossip and rumors somehow.

I was in the far back part of the trailer park anyway, no bother to anybody, my trailer up against the side of the big hill where the spring would come bubbling up. I was close enough to water, but the hike to the community restrooms was killing me, it was in the center of the park, and here I was, living on the outskirts.

I left messages in the door slot at the rental office, asking for help to be relocated closer, but even the employees didn't come around anymore. I think they quit.
I looked yesterday in the mail slot, and my messages were still there.

Well, I still have enough food to last for a good month, maybe more, and plenty of water, as long as I get back inside well before sunset. I hate sunset. I really, really hate it.

The anxiety starts as soon as it gets just a bit less bright, around six o'clock, then I start listening for them. They won't be howling for hours yet, but I listen anyway.
Them damn dogs won't get me the way they got poor Mrs. Lee. But her little body probably didn't feed them much, and it's been a month. If those dogs didn't get any wild game, they are probably mighty hungry by now. They never found even one of her bones, just the clothes. Bloody clothes. Ripped to shreds.

By seven-thirty, I am deeply paranoid, and when the moon rises over the hill, I'm a nervous wreck. That is when I can see their shadows, trotting back and forth across the hilltop, sniffing. But the worse is when I don't see them any more. That's when they are coming down the hill.

Today, it's worse. The seasons are changing, less daylight hours, and more worse, it is overcast. It is getting dark too early, damn it! Damn it to hell! Damn dogs.
And me with no gun.

All I do is sit in this trailer, and think about those dogs. Different scenarios, play out in my head, of what might happen, and what I could do to save my self. Almost daydreams, except they are nightmares.

I'm thinking I might just go to that office tomorrow, bust a window, and get inside somehow to use the phone. But it can takes days for even an ambulance to get up here. And then I would be stuck in the office, waiting God knows how long for somebody to show up, hell, for someone to even give a damn, and the window would be busted, open wide for those dogs.

It is getting dark now. My stomach feels like it's full of rocks. Sharp hard rocks.
I start listening, every noise is analyzed, listening for a pattern that paws make when they are trotting, listening for the howls. My heart is pounding. Damn those dogs...

[cradle]

I.fucking. love. this.

WRITE MORE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

This is a masterpiece so far...

[HumanePain]

Thanks man. I'll write more tomorrow, too tired for now (been up since 3 frreakin' oclock in the morning).

[cradle]

0.o

Doing what?

[bleedingheart344]

Very nice, I like it so far, you must add more to this. You are a very fine writer. I may post some of my poetry soon, if I can find it, if not I'll write more.

[cradle]

I'm kind of going through a bad phase...i think I hit the peak on Love...

and mortician is going good, but I kind of massacred it with the biohazard part.

I'll just take that part off and make a mortician 2.0 XD

[HumanePain]

Originally Posted by cradle

I'm kind of going through a bad phase...i think I hit the peak on Love...

and mortician is going good, but I kind of massacred it with the biohazard part.

I'll just take that part off and make a mortician 2.0 XD

The muse comes and goes. You may find a month later that it returns and then you have another burst of writing. My muse is with me for minutes, or weeks.

I have some stories (not posted here because not relevant to G.net) that I haven't touched in months, and another that I completed 17 chapters, 15,000 words in under 30 days.

So not only is it the muse for when you write, but for which stories.

BleedingHeart: Thanks for your kind words. When you are ready to post your poetry, be sure to use the "Reincarnation of the Poetry Thread" instead of opening a new thread.

[Crying_Crimson_Tears]

PLEASE PLEASE continue.

[HumanePain]

Trailer Park Chapter 2

I'm sitting in the dark, facing the door, but it won't help, they can smell me in here. Anxiety is making my palms sweat. I'm trying not to look to the left or the right, ‘cause the window is to the left, and the moonlight is bright enough that I can see the oak leaves blowing around like shadow bats or some damn thing, and the same shadows are dancing around on the wall to my right, surrounding me with movement that keeps freaking me out. Damn shadows. I want this night to hurry up and get over with, but every time I look at the clock, only a minute has gone by. Only seven o’clock. Crap. This is gonna be a helluva long night. I’ve made up my mind to go the office tomorrow and use the phone.

It is still quiet out there, so I take a peek through the blinds, to see if there are any lights across the park, but no, no man-made lights, no electric lights, just the moonlight on the… DAMN IT! I hate the wind knocking down the metal trashcans, banging them around like it doesn’t care. Now my heart is pounding out of my rib cage. I just got to sit back down, holding my steak knife in my right, and my crutch in my left, and then take a deep breath. Relax, maybe they ate something today, maybe they won’t come tonight.


What’s that?

They’re chewing on the freakin’ trailer! The bottom of the trailer! They’re here, those damn dogs!

Then I see the rat run across the floor. Damn. That sounded loud enough to be those damn dogs. Is my hearing making everything louder? I am listening with every nerve, every sound makes me blink in reflex. Christ, it’s only 7:05.
Wish I had a drink of something, but I drank the last beer…how many days ago? No more wine, no whisky, damn it. But maybe the office…tomorrow, I am checking the office, hell I’ll check all the abandoned places too, the Coopers seemed to always have beer, I’ll go there first, then I’ll have something to get me by in the office until help comes, and then…

What’s that?

I’m listening, but it’s quiet now. But I swear to God I heard something.

The wind sounds like it’s a warning. They’re coming, tonight. And they’re hungry.
I know it.

There it is again. Something just sniffed. I freeze still, listening, but the adrenaline starts my heart pounding, then all I hear is my heart beating like thunder, damn it.

Another sniff.

They are here.

Now I hear sharp, strong canine teeth chewing the trailer. Christ, they can’t chew through freakin’ aluminum can they? Shit! I never heard them howling! The bastards snuck up on me!

Now they are growling as they chew…

[BlackButterfly]

(I type this from the edge of my seat...)

I LOVE how you write! Just reading the words is making me as paranoid as your character!

[cradle]

yay!

Love it.

[HumanePain]

Trailer Park Chapter 3

I made it through the night, but my eyes are bloodshot and feel like crap.
The sun came up an hour ago, but I stay in until the sun shines down bright, I want to see far away and make damn sure nothing’s around.

I haven’t slept all night, those damn dogs were chewing and growling and chewing, but they never got in. Huh! Those bastards can’t get in, but I can’t stay here, I need to get the hell outta here! Today!

I get up on my crutch, slip my steak knife into my belt, and look out the door window. Then I check the window on the opposite wall, nothing but trees blowing in the wind. Damn, the wind is blowing from the office towards me. I’m upwind of those damn dogs, they will smell me if they’re awake. I gotta hope they only hunt at twilight, when they got poor old Mrs. Lee.

I wait until the wind is just a breeze. I can’t wait anymore, if I have to spend another night in this forsaken trailer, I am going to go freakin’ crazy, or they will kill me.

I look out the far window, nothing there either. I hop back over to the door, and grab the doorknob, but…then I start getting nervous. Hell, I have to go for it and open the damn door.

It feels like it has been a million years since I opened that door. Freedom, but danger too. I poke my head out, look and listen. Nothing so far, but the other trailers. The trash cans that got knocked over last night are scattered all over the damn place, whatever was in it those dogs ate it. Now there is just a couple of black crows picking at the small leftover garbage. They stop and look at me when they here me open the door the rest of the way.

I put my crutch out the door and the birds fly away with a CAW CAW. Damn birds, SHUT UP!. I hop on out to the ground, and close the door as quiet as I can.

I look around. This is it. I start hopping like mad and go for the office. To hell with the breeze, I can make it! This won’t be bad, I shoulda done this days ago!

Then I reach the Cooper’s place. The beer? Damn. I am standing here like an idiot thinking about going into their place, but what if it’s locked? To hell with it. I keep hopping to the office. I am almost to the first bend in the gravel road, then it will be another turn, and I will reach the street where I know I can see the office at the end. Almost halfway there!

I am cutting across the Marcelli’s yard, trying to make a beeline as I hop like crazy, watching all around me, and now I start breaking out in a sweat. I know the breeze is still blowing, because it cools my sweat down as I hop. My scent is on the air now, gotta move, gotta move, gotta move!!!

I am huffing and puffing now, passing through one yard, around someone else’s patio, nobody is here anymore, all gone!

Now I am at the halfway point, the newlyweds place, Mike and his bride JoAnn. Glad they got out, she is 8 months pregnant. I go around their backyard, around the side of their RV, and stop.

There in the front yard is Mike. What’s left of him. Bloody clothes, bits and pieces, and only the biggest bones. The black crows look up at me and scream CAW CAW! One of them has a strip of flesh hanging down in its beak.

“GET IN!” I turn around, there is JoAnn at the door, waving me in, but she isn’t looking at me: she is looking at something behind me.

I turn around. Just up the road, they are loping towards me in silence, but now I hear the flick-flick of their feet as they bear down on me. I turn around, and jump into the door, fall down on the RV floor and JoAnn slams the door shut.
The dogs are jumping on the door and start barking and growling, scratching the sides of the RV and sniffing.

JoAnn helps me up, I bump my head on her round belly.
“I am so glad to see you Renee, I thought everyone was gone and I was all alone!” She starts crying.

“Now JoAnn” I swallow and try to sound brave “Don’t get upset now, you being all close to due time and all.” I pick up my crutch. “Sorry about…Mike.” She tries to stifle her sobs, running an arm across her nose, sniffing and trying to talk.

“He tried… to get to the office… three days ago.” She looked up at me with a sad face. I was never so glad to see another face in that damn park though, sad as she was.

Then we hear a dogfight breakout and the crows screaming like crazy. We both look out the window, and see those damn dogs…fighting over poor Mike’s skull. It is rolling around as each dog takes a turn at trying to pick it up, but they can’t get a good grip in their jaws, and when one does, the other dogs bite the one that has it and they fight. The skull rolls over to the side, and the freakin’ crows start pecking at the eye sockets, pulling out strings of…stuff.

We back away from the window and she looks at me with those sad eyes like she is going to start crying again. Then she comes over and hugs me!

Something happened when she hugged me. Something inside me just sort of lit up, like on fire. I don’t know what it was, but…I knew then and there I had to get her out of here, one way or another or I was going to die trying.

Outside the dogs were still growling and fighting. Now one of them got a crow, and was shaking it back and forth, black feathers flinging off all over as it was being killed…

[Crying_Crimson_Tears]

Wow. I am almost speechless. This is so good. You have me on the edge of my seat with each new chapter. Wow.

[roberteggleton]

I liked it too -- very visual. I'm 56 this week and until my first novel came out almost a year ago, I'd not had fiction published since college. Everything I wrote for my jobs, of course, was nonfiction -- investigative reports, manuals, research studies, etc.

So, anyway, I'm no expert. I bought a book on writing fiction (actually it was a birthday present). A couple of things come to mind after reading your work. There's one very long sentence in the beginning with phrases connected with commas. I like the sentence, but the book would recommend (if it could actually edit) breaking it up into varying rhythms. Another thing that the book might say is to take another look at words that end "ing" as they are usually more passive than words that end "ed."

Good scenes -- I think that I've been in that place too.

[HumanePain]

Thanks for the feedback, I do appreciate it! Yes I have learned since writing this last year to use fewer commas. It interrupts the dream flow for the reader. I would appreciate feedback on my other stories too if you have the time. Just go to my profile, then in the lower left, select "find all threads started by HumanePain" and you will find my other stories. When Bats Sleep is the one that is published. The rest are copyrighted on two other sites.

Thanks again, from one writer to another.

[Dancing_in_rain]

Good Lord. *remembers to breathe*
You are the most awesome person ever. Is it too forward to say that I love you and your writing?!? Wow. That blew me away. I'm literally having my small intestine writhe in how do you call it? The french word is Angoisse. Maybe Anguish? Not sure. Anoways, my jejunum is coiling. Have you read "The Birds" by Daphne Du Maurier? That's what this story/novella reminds me of. Ooooo. I can't wait to read more. *shivers in anticipation*

[thedoll]

I have goosebumps all over... well... except my face... I don't think thats possible...

[HumanePain]

::smiles and shuffles chrome studded boots::
Aw, garsh, thanks ladies!

[Aaroneet]

This is THE BIRDS. In the best possible sense. Again, from the words of a published author, I think that Du Maurier would be proud.

[Drake Dun]

Dude, that is the coolest premise for a horror story I have run into in a long time.

I can't figure out why, but it's the fact that the trailer park has been abandoned that really puts the color into the story's cheeks. I think it would have been way less powerful if it had been some thing where everybody was away for some event, and then a falling tree cut the phone line or something like that.

Drake

[HumanePain]

Thanks Drake. And thanks for taking the time to read it.

[Cyntrox]

Awesome! I can see this being turned into a movie...

[Raptor]

I read this earlier today, I scrolled through the thread and thought "hmm I'll just read the first chapter" because I was about to go out and didn't have much time. I was late didn't want to stop lol. I like it a lot.

[Ratchet]

I really enjoyed it! Its very fast-paced and definitely keeps my attention!

Some things I noticed:

Writing in this stream-of-consciousness style is really really hard (IMO) and you pull it off very well. But, I do kind of feel like there are a few too many "I am"s. The simple sentence structure enhances the narrator's paranoia, but I think more complex sentences here and there would really add depth to the narrator's personality.

The imagery is excellent! The way you describe the dogs and the crows (especially with the sounds associated with them) is frightening!

I'm anxious to read more!

[HumanePain]

Thank you for the valuable feedback Ratchet. Yes, I have learned that first person writing is difficult. I wrote Trailer Park after reading Catcher in the Rye. My more popular story, When Bats Sleep, worked well because it was narrative.