It seems like it’s been ages since I started my ‘Your Own Story’ but I think I have gathered enough votes to be able to write the next part. I was a little disappointed by the number of people who did cast votes, but what can you do, eh? It’s best to carry on with the story and write the next part, hoping that more votes will roll in when there’s more story to vote on.
The winning plots were…
- What happened yesterday? He witnessed his own death
- What was the knock at the door? His daughter from another marriage
Click here to be taken to the ‘Your Own Story’ page.
Read on for part 2 or click here for Part 1.
Part 2: Jenny Visits
‘Shit!’ Jack said realising why he’d set his alarm clock in the first place but it was only seven-thirty she was supposed to be round here for eight. By ‘she’, Jack meant his ex-wife Sally. Most visits from her normally required nothing more than a vague recognition of her presence and the ability to sign even more of his money over to her, but not today. Today was Saturday, today was the best day of the week, the day he got to spend with his daughter, Jenny.
Jack quickly stubbed out his cigarette taking one more drag and holding it in his lungs for as long as possible. Jack never smoked when he was near his daughter, so he wanted to inhale every last bit, not that he ever felt the need to smoke when he was with her. There was another loud thump at the door. ‘One minute’ he yelled grabbing the T-shirt and jeans he’d thrown over his chair the night before. A quick squirt of deodorant under each arm, and he was racing out of his room to get to the front door.
Sally’s third knock was interrupted by Jack opening the door. Sally was stood there with an impatient look and a raised eyebrow. Jenny looked adorable, she was just 7 years old and dressed in pink dungarees, with her long hair in bunches and a big smile.
‘Daddy!’ Jenny ran into her Jack’s arms.
‘You’re early.’ said Jack
‘No, I said we’d be here at seven thirty.’
‘You said eight.’
‘No my class starts at eight and I had to drop off Jenny beforehand.’
Shit, she was right. The entire conversation seemed so clear but now he could remember it all. She did say seven-thirty. ‘It doesn’t matter, I’m glad you’re here.’ The last part of the sentence was directed at his daughter.
‘What happened to you Jack? You look like crap.’ Crap was the agreed swear word, the only near-curse word they were allowed to use in front of their daughter.
‘No, I’m fine. Just caught off guard, that’s all.’ That was one of the things he did miss about Sally. She was someone to talk to about all the crazy shit that ran through his mind; every paranoia, every doubt, everything he got excited about, it all got unloaded to Sally. He wanted to tell her what he saw yesterday. He wanted to say that he had seen his own death; that he was terrified that he was going mad or even worse that he wasn’t. He wanted to spit out every morbid detail he’d witnessed, the blood spilling on to the road, the type of car that swerved as the bullets were fired. How he held his doppelganger’s hand and heard his own last words, but he couldn’t. Not now, she would put it all down as a desperate attempt at getting sympathy or even worse trying to pity her into coming back.
‘Are we still going to the circus, Daddy?’
Her innocent voice cut through the mess of Jack’s mind, now his mind was clear and focused, all he could think of was her ‘We sure are?’
‘Well have a nice day, Beautiful’ Sally said kissing Jenny goodbye and turning to Jack ‘Could you drop her round mine tonight?’ though before Jack could respond she had walked back to her car. ‘Have a good time’ she said as she got in her car and drove away.
‘Daddy? Is there going to be clowns at the circus?’
‘Of course sweetie.’ Jack sat down on the doorstep to tie up his Converse all-stars.
‘…and jugglers, and bears? I like bears, they’re fluffy and they’re cute, but not as cute as cats.’
‘I hope so’ Jack had only half answered her question, but Jenny was excited. It was doubtful she was listening to his answers anyway.
Jack locked the front door and walked over to his car opening the door and letting Jenny hop into the backseat. It was on old battered Pontiac Safari, with rust devouring its way through the frame. Sally always hated that car. She was always trying to get him to trade it in but it held too many memories for him, and he didn’t have the money to buy another car, so there it sat, looking tired, tired and familiar.
The engine spat, and whirred as it shuddered into life and Jack and Jenny made their way to the circus.