Don't Worry, Hun. The Space Between Us Is Only Temporary. We'll Collide Back Again To Each Other's Arms.

Carissa Potter Carlson

The Etiquette of Survival

This is the first four chapters of the book I’m working on. The book as a whole needs editing, but I’m searching for the write publisher company to query for submissions. These chapters would be the ambassador for the work I want to publish, but they need the most work at this point. Particularly chapter 03, which I’m not found of as material in later chapters has changed.

Salt and Feathers

Genre: grim dark

word count: 16,040  

  A Forensic Coroner is dragged into a world of political and supernatural elements, upon perceiving inconsistencies surrounding an influx of John and Jane Doe cadavers. Allegra Terrel must rely on the compliance of an inhuman supporter, and the deadly commissions he is assigned. If she hopes to achieve some semblance of normality, or survive at all, she must keep allies close and enemies closer.

     01.   A Cold Slab

  The noxious scent of formaldehyde coiled around the lumpy white coat, saturating anything and everything porous. It wasn’t a bad scent but it was off-putting, particularly after a few days without a full on shower and grinding off the layers of perspiration buildup. It wasn’t a disposition the staff devoted itself to; after the first few dozen bodies came through, people stopped caring about their appearance. The few exceptions in the scenario being meetings and the sort.

The only reasonably slow period was the graveyard shift; the few hours that medical could catch up on the backlog of paperwork. The department sat square center of a large metropolitan, and there was no time of day when bodies weren’t being found or resurfaced by unsuspecting civilians. The winter months helped slow the inflow, though the dead didn’t roam.

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I’m starting to fall in love with Chinese characters and I wanted to learn moreeee! 💕 #woaini (dedicated to my fav male character)

im getting that md after name, I promise

I just leave this here-

M'boy stop playing games with me, ok?

'Cause I'm so fucking confused. I don't wanna waste a shit anymore

Chapter 1: Five Hours Before Death

“AMELIA!” My boss exclaimed as he walked over to my desk.

“Yes, sir, do you need something?” I say while still looking at my computer.

“Yes, as a matter of fact, I need you to tell me about my agenda for this afternoon,” he says urgently while looking at his watch.

“Ah well, sir, you have a one-thirty meeting with one of the board of directors and a six o'clock dinner reservation with the misses” I told my boss while looking up at him.

My boss looks at me and says, “Before I leave for my one-thirty, I need you to come to my office; I need to speak to you about something urgent. Got it.”

“Yes, sir, I understand,” I say, confirming it.

‘What does he want to tell me? Oh, I hope it isn’t what I found out a few days ago,’ I thought as I looked back at my computer. Two days ago, I found out that my boss: Nicholas Anderson, had an illegal import business up and running. And in turn, he paid the mayor to keep quiet about everything. I shook those thoughts out of my head, focusing on my work.

Time flies by and now it is twelve-thirty. I get up from my desk and head to Mr. Anderson’s office on the next floor above. Walking over to the sliver elevator doors, you press one of the buttons on the wall next to the doors. The doors open, and you step in, turning around while the doors shut, pressing the button heading up to the next floor. Hearing the irritating music blaring into the rectangular box, the doors open; indicating, that I am on the next floor.

Walking up to his door, I knock, telling him that I am there. “Come in,” Mr. Anderson said. I open the door and walk into his office. Noticing a few pictures of his family here and there, he looked up from his computer.

“Ah, excellent timing Ms. Cameron; I was about to call you up,” Mr. Anderson said as he pushed himself up from his black leather chair, making eye contact with you.

“May I ask what this is about; you made it seem crucial,” I said looking curious but deep down I know what he may say.

“Uh, yes, I know that you found about my uh business. I must warn you if you tell the authorities or anyone for that matter, you might not get to be forty. Am I clear?” Mr. Anderson says

“Ye-ss, sir-r,” I said, fear plastered onto my face.

“Good, then you may leave.” I placed my hands onto the arms of the chair, pushed my legs up, feeling the pressure of standing. I leave the room and head back downstairs, thinking of what he was saying.

The day went by faster than the flash himself, a mixture of colors; pinks, oranges, and yellows stating that the sun is setting within the west. Shutting everything down and grabbing my purse and coat. I look down at my watch; which looks like it is from the nineties, and it reveals that it is 8:50 p.m. 'Huh has it been five hours already; who would have thought’ I left the gray building and straight to my 1999 navy blue chevy corvette. I slammed the car door closed as I sat down in the driver’s seat. I took out my keys from my purse so that I could start the engine. My keys have two keychains attached to them; one of them is a Slytherin crest, the other is a Gryffindor crest. I placed the keys into the ignition and turned it. The engine roared to life, I got strapped in and I reversed back into the parking lot to head the main road.

It did not take long for Amelia to get to her apartment. She pulled into the parking lot outside the complex, making sure she did not touch the curb, she turned off the engine and took the keys out of the ignition. She grabs her purse, slips her hand into door handle to open it. The door opens and she steps out into the crisp cold air. She steps onto the sidewalk and looks back to her car. Her car was shining from the light created by the lamp post. The wind blowing against her skin, the hair on her skin standing up and she gets a shiver crawling down her spine. Amelia did not pay attention to the ever-growing feeling within the pit of her stomach as she started climbing the stairs to the second floor.

I got to the top of the stairs of the second floor. I walked down the hallway a little bit to reach my apartment. It was about five minutes of walking; I reached my apartment: number 4. I looked over to my right and saw the door where my neighbor Minerva Barnes lives. 'She is such a sweet woman’ I thought as I grabbed my keys to unlock the door. I got my keys into the lock, and I unlocked the door. As I was stepping into my apartment, I am suddenly overwhelmed with a sense of dread; like I should not have entered the apartment. Due to the lights not working, it gave me an eerie and creepy feeling to the atmosphere of the apartment.

It kept getting stronger as I took off my coat, my shoes, and when I placed my keys into the tray. I turn around and locked the door. I went into the kitchen, grab a small glass from one of the cabinets, and went over to the sink to get water. Placing the glass down, I went to turn the faucet on when everything went black. What I did not know right now was that my time to pass on had come.

Opening my eyes, I squint at the moonlight shining through the teal curtains. I tried to move but could not. I looked down and saw my hands were bounded. I turned my head so that I can see my feet, turns out my feet were also bounded.

“I wouldn’t do that if I was you” someone said while standing in the shadows.

“Who are you? Why are doing this?” I asked fear rising within me.

“Did you really think he wouldn’t know that you were gathering evidence to give to the police? I mean, Mr. Anderson knew that you knew about the business, so he made an educated guess, and what do you know he was right after all.” The figure said while chuckling slightly. 

Fear took ahold of me once I realized what he was talking about. You see, I have been gathering up evidence on my boss. Apparently, he has been bribing the mayor to cover up his import business. I look back at the figure wondering who they are. 

“Who are you?” I asked as I stare into the shadows. 

“That is unimportant lady” he said while pulling something out of his pockets. I couldn’t tell what it was, but the feeling grew even more stronger as it was before. The figure then walks out of the shadows. His body was slightly brightened but you couldn’t make out his face. 

Since you now have a semi-clear view of the man, you notice that he had a Glock 19 9mm Compact. Your grandparents taught you how to hunt and when you were older you went to the shooting range, so you know different types of guns. You watch as he loads ammo into the gun. You look back at the curtains taking in the light of the moon. Hearing footsteps behind you, you realize that the man had walked up to you from behind. 

'This is it; this is how I go out, huh’ I thought as I felt the gun was placed on the back of my head. I opened my mouth tasting salt, which meant tears. I was so scared I didn’t realize that I was crying. The tears were flowing down my face at a rapid pace as the man pulled the trigger.

**BANG**

Amelia fell to the ground as blood flows out of her head. Blood spatters across the lightly colored walls and floors turning them crimson red. The man walks towards an open window. Putting the gun back into his pocket, the man got up onto the windowsill. The man looked back at the body, blood pooling around her and glistening in the moonlight. The wind blowing steadily as the man jumped out of the window and onto the pavement below. Walking away from the crime the man had just committed, he wore a sadistic smile on his face.  

Yeah my babe has grown ass built is tall and has triceps but is still scared of his mom at 27. ffs

i don't know who needs to hear this, but you're allowed to gain weight in your twenties. you are a grown ass adult now. your body can and should not be the same as it was at seventeen. allow it to grow along with you <3

Blood On The Wall

   Prologue

It was no later than 1:00 AM when the sound of screams could be heard, the screams of a woman erupted from inside the house. The disheartening noise echoed through the corridors, crying out  for help that hopefully would arrive. Sadly it wouldn’t. Her husband had been killed in his sleep, he’d gone out easily after being shot. A death fit for any corrupt politician who buried several scandals that couldn’t resurface. A killer who was as normal as normal could be walked out of the house satisfied with the outcome of his mission. Who knew someone like him would be capable of murder, no man on earth could walk as confidently as he did after committing such as heinous and grotesque crime.

The killer strides over to the car door preparing to dispose of the bodies. Of course he had come prepared, he had planned it from start to finish without resting. He himself had watched his two victims for weeks, along with hiring a private investigator who knew nothing of his intentions. It was gratifying when the investigator didn’t ask for a reason. It was making his part of the job so much easier, all he had to do was buy what was required in order to complete his endeavor.

Pulling a jerry can from the trunk, the mysterious figure walked back inside with the jerry can in tow. Sad really how this had to come to an end, even more so knowing that he couldn’t continue this little charade that had been going on for so long. Listening as the gasoline poured out of the can the man looked around the large living room, it was a shame that this had to be destroyed. It was a lovely home despite the awful smell coming from the bodies, at least that would be removed from the decor. The man poured a trail of gasoline from the living room back outside making sure the house would be swallowed in flames.

As the murderer began to light a match, he watched the flames dance before letting the match ignite the flammable liquid. It was so satisfying to watch the trail of gasoline being replaced by rising flames from the match. Waiting for the house to explode in flames was so avid, like the rush of adrenaline you have when waiting for the drop of a roller coaster.

The first section of the house to explode was the kitchen area, the force of the impact shattered the window above the sink. Another in the study upstairs, and in mere seconds the roof of the house was surrounded by flames. Walking away from the scene of the crime, the killer began to laugh thinking about the headlines for the News-cast.

‘Mountain Killer Strikes Again.’

I'm coming there to touch you and snuggle up

Our real time is different similarly by how opposite the regions both of us came from. His crack of dawn was when my feet wide apart in extreme sound sleep, no signs of awakeness, not of a hiss of breath neither unconscious groans

He said he witnesses both the sunrise and sundown.

He, then could no longer watch a film-like state of dreams in slumber.

The dark couldn't look after his weary eyes, as his light coloured iris (chroma) rejects radiating the same old glow in such hypnotic glare

If I take a look closer at his eyes, there's barely sadness, happiness, or bubbliness of some sort. The night was robbed off his sleep wires in brain. Completely vanished. A boy of nocturne hours, night that's silent yet insane