Short Story

Well NaNoWriMo is… going. At least I’ve written as much so far this year as I did all of last year. I literally spent 16 hour this weekend on one project and have eight more articles to do before I can finally sleep, so needless to say, another weekend went by and I was able to get only a few hundred words down. Anyways, I thought I’d give you a sneak peek at the story. I’m really in love with the story so even if I don’t finish it this month, it will be done by the end of the year. Without further ado, here’s the rough beginning, and a picture of the lovely Orson Welles.


Calle Pompeii was a street just like any other in modern day Suburbia. The men jogged with dogs and the women walked baby strollers. The mailman promptly delivered the mail every day. People said hi to each other in passing. Little did they know that in their daily routines they were being watched.


Missy was the first to become a victim. She was a nanny for the Richards family. Mr. Richards worked for a local biotech company and his wife stayed home with the kids. There was no reason for her to need a nanny, but she somehow convinced her husband that she needed one. She couldn’t take care of her children on her own, but oddly enough her nanny found a way to make it a one-woman job. Missy loved the children, Ben and Franny.


Ben was 5 years old and loved to play at the park. Franny was 4 and wanted to be just like her brother, so of course she loved the park. Ben and Franny were a bit of an oddity because they liked to play together instead of fighting like brothers and sisters usually do. Missy would always tell her friends that they were the easiest kids she ever nannied for; so easy in fact that she could do it while being high the whole time. Mrs. Richards was too busy trying to shoddily hide her affair with the gardener to notice that her nanny was completely stoned. She’d hurry Missy off to the park with Ben and Franny in tow.


Milton documented all this in his notebook. He’d been following Missy for about six months. She hadn’t noticed a thing. Maybe it was the weed, or maybe it was that he’d been stalking people for decades and never been caught.


The first time he spied on someone other than his mother he was so nervous that he pissed himself. Each time after that it came more and more naturally to him. He would find the object of his fixation and follow her until the time came for him to stop. He’d know when this time was up because his journal would be full. Once a journal was full of information about a person, it was time for him to get rid of her. She was of no more use to him.


Missy only had a month’s worth of pages left in her journal; her time was ticking down and she had no idea.


Milton looked at her, sitting there on the swings, watching Ben and Franny play tag on the jungle gym. He made a note in his journal about what she was wearing.


Ruffle blouse with a revealing neckline. Minorly see through. Tight jeans. Ass crack is visibly when she is sitting. He noted.


He learned a long time ago that his journals last longer if he uses all the space on every line. His notes were barely distinguishable in terms of time and coherency, but he knew what they meant. He’d read them so many times that his note taking skills were perfected.


At first he’d used the regular composition notebooks from the store; the kind they make you get in school. After his first girl, he realized that these were too short. The lines were too thick and he didn’t get enough time to know her before her time was up. So he switched to large 12” x 12” college ruled notebooks. These were hard to find, so when he did, he bought as many as there were in the store. Time went on and he found himself writing smaller and smaller so that he could write even more. However, if he’d spend some time with a girl, and decided he didn’t like her, he would write larger. Giving up before the book was finished was not an option. He had to finish the whole thing, then get her out of his life. Forever.