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DESTINY (Warning: Triggers Involved)

So when she came home after the gang rape on the boat, she said nothing to her mother. She grabbed a few things and left the house to stay in the park for a couple hours to get away. She told the police she had to get away from Frank because of what he and his friends had done, but in the back of her mind she knew something was going to happen. Because she asked for something to happen. She curled up under her favorite tree and waited. When she felt like it was time to go back, she walked slowly back home until she saw the police lights swirling across the crooked address numbers of her house. She saw her mother gesturing frantically while uniformed men tried to lead her into a police car. When Samantha approached the scene, the cops quickly hustled her into another car and drove her to station. Samantha told them about the abuse, the rape and leaving the house. She told them she didn’t know what happened after that, and she truly didn’t. She wasn’t there. She didn’t do anything, or ask anyone to do anything. Hell, she didn’t have any friends to do anything for her. The cops drilled her pretty good, but in the end, they had to release her to CPS custody. As the other fishing trip participants came to bad ends, the ice around Samantha’s heart became deeper. When her mother’s time came, and she was raped and disemboweled with a bayonet by a dealer high on meth and PCP, the transformation from Samantha to Destiny was complete. She had nothing left to fear. She left her current foster home and struck out on her home, working the streets until her ruthlessness brought her the financial security to start her own stable. And by this time, the events that led to her life as Destiny had become the foggy ideal she’d now grown used to.
She realized that her time was up. She sold her soul for revenge when she was 13 years old and the time had come to pay the piper. Destiny opened her eyes, to face what she knew was inevitable.
She realized it was all at an end. She knew she had never been loved really. She saw that she became a hooker because it was all she knew. It had been the only time she was ever shown any affection. She looked at the room around her, which her mind chose to see as a bordello, because where else would a girl like her be? Where else would a life such as hers end?

Excerpt from "The Love of a Zombie is Everlasting."

The day I died I only wanted Ralan to be present. Since he was siding with everyone else, I was still a little disgusted with him, but I couldn't imagine not being with him. Of course, I banned his parents, who were only too glad to stay away those last couple of days. They did insist that their son wear surgical scrubs and a mask when he visited. To his credit, he took them off when he cam inside. Since the day he told me we would not be together after I died, I refused to discuss my afterlife plans with him and tried to get used to the idea of being alone and craving human meat. The latter was easy to prepare for; I had a whole room of the apartment stocked with Meatco products that Ralan had gotten with his employee discount from work. I was dying in my own house, so I would be territorially tied to a safe place. Ralan had already moved his things back to his parents house and was amenable to letting me stay here; after all as a human he could get any place he wanted.
We didn't talk much. I was almost too weak for conversation by that point. Ralan took advantage of that and rambled on about past memories and how he was going to miss me; it was obvious that he was only too glad not to be asked any hard questions. I wanted to call him a lying leading-me-on bastard, but tears pricked my eyes at the thought of never cussing him out again. The thoughts I’d had of the two of us making civil rights history, proving that zombies can be loving productive members of society and don't have to eat their loved ones were very hard to let go of. I wondered if I would have the strength to do those things without Ralan by my side and I shuddered. Would I let the loss of love turn me into a monster? Ralan saw me shivering and responded by laying another blanket atop me. “You look cold, honey.”
When I could feel the final veil starting to descend over my vision, I panicked a little and grabbed Ralan's hand to get his attention. I gave him the prearranged signal and drew my finger across my throat to say it was coming, and Ralan started to sob. I sighed and asked, “Are you going to stay until it’s over?”
“Yes, I promise I'll be here.”
“Ralan, I don't know how to live without you!”
“Shh, you'll be fine, I swear. You're the strongest person I know.”
“Can I come see you after? At least one time?” I could see his hesitation and wondered if he was thinking of me, his dying fiancée, or what his parents would say. “Just to say goodbye. I won't hurt anyone, Ralan, you know that.”
“I know you won't. I'll come by here, okay? Two weeks from today, I'll come just to make sure you're alright. Okay?”
I was so grateful at his words I could only cry knowing I would see him only once more. Then that old Trickster came and took my life away, leaving me with a huge hole in my heart and an inimical darkness all around me.


I don't remember waking exactly, I only remember eating. When my faculties began to work once more, I was surrounded by several dozen empty Meatco packages that looked as if they'd been opened in a hurry. About an eighth of the stockpile Ralan had arranged for me had been decimated. Apparently the hunger is so strong it brings on a fugue state and the body blindly attempts to feed itself whatever is at hand. I shudder to think what might have happened if I hadn't prepared properly; I can easily imagine breaking out of the apartment and attacking unsuspecting innocents in a frenzy. The hunger was so strong!
After finishing the half consumed flesh I woke up with, I set about straightening up the food room, disposing of empty containers and gobbets of food strewn around the place. I then showered and changed, stopping every so often to devour another helping of human flesh, provided by my friend and yours, Meatco Packaging Plant. And Ralan. Contacting him, was still very important to me, but calling his parent's phone number up from my memory was impossible. I guess the Revitalized don't do numbers. Which was fine with me; I didn't want to take the chance that they might answer instead of Ralan and I knew that would open a whole new can of worms. So I packed a bag full of my new favorite snack and the door key (to make sure no other zombie came by and hit the jackpot) and stepped outside for the first time in my new incarnation.


I really didn’t mean to eat Ralan’s parents. I purposely brought an alternative source of food so I wouldn’t even be tempted. I even waited until I saw them leave the house so I could be alone with Ralan. Munching on a Meatco packet, I watched them walk down the block before walking up the stoop and turning the doorknob. I was ecstatic to see Ralan standing in the foyer as if her were waiting for me) as soon as I came inside. I wasn’t happy to see all the packing boxes full of his things around me, though. Ralan appeared to be frozen at the sight of me standing in the doorway. Maybe I came back to life a little early, which of course was what the boxes were all about. It was obvious even to a zombie.

This is an excerpt from the book I am writing about my paternal grandmother's family history.  There is an oral tradition going back seven generations to the first female slave in our family.  Here is the story of how my grandmother's mother met her father, and how her grandmother did NOT appreciate it!

Annie Mae grew up a bit pampered by all her mother’s tenants that made it their job to look out for her. Some may have had crushes on the young teenage girl, but most were rightly afraid of Bessie. She threatened each man with hellfire and damnation when they moved into her place if the even thought about getting sweet on her daughter.

“Boy, I’ll cut you so bad, yo daddy will feel it. And you can forget about fathering any youngun’s. Now pass me your dollar and breakfast is at 7.” Breakfast was pretty good at Bessie’s so most ignored the knife she kept nearby. But they also kept their hands to themselves as far as Annie Mae was concerned. It also wasn’t a secret that Annie Mae’s red hair and freckles came by way the the county sheriff. Not too many white men claimed their nigra children, but those men working at the saw mill didn’t aim to find out if Walter was any different.

Of course, there was always one person that bucked the trend, which is how generations are made. This boy Frank McLemore had heard all the rumors about how scary Bessie could be and how the sheriff could be Annie Mae’s father. But he seemed to be irresistibly drawn to the girl. He snuck away from work at every opportunity to take Annie Mae on picnics. Everyone at the mill knew what was happening, but nobody said anything to Bessie. They were waiting to see what whould happen when she found out. Plus, no one wanted to be punished for telling her bad news.

However, Bessie already knew. She kept tabs on Annie Mae’s whereabouts as a result of what had happned to her in the past. She had vowed, as had her mother and grandmother before her, that Annie Mae would Not be subject to a white man’s whims unless she wanted to be. She had heard there were men in the area that would delight in making Annie Mae their extra women in addition to the wife or girlfriend they already had. They had yet to approach her, but Bessie made sure that Annie Mae’s true father Walter knew that Annie Mae was not for sale under any circumstances. Yet Annie Mae was spoiled, and Bessie knew it. She followed her daugher on occasion to see what she was up to and she found out about Frank. But she did not let her daughter know she knew. She simply stepped up her lectures on not dating until she found a husband.

“Don’t you be out there socializing with those saw mill workers. They’ll steal your womanhood and leave on the next coach out of town. And can’t none of them keep a job. Why you think they here anyway? Most of them been kicked out the last town they was in, sheriff’s probably already after’em…that ain’t the kind of man you can marry. You need a man with a job that‘s gonna last longer than a month or two, a man that don’t drink his paycheck away. And don‘t none of those men live near here!”

Annie Mae didn’t listen to Bessie, though. She hadn’t before she’d met Frank, and she tuned out everything after she fell in love. She knew that her mother had been through some things, and felt sorry for her. But she loved Frank, and her mother couldn’t stop her. She and Frank were planning on telling Bessie soon about their relationship but were just waiting for the right time. So she pretended to listen to her mother’s speeches, but was really just waiting for the time she could meet up with her lover again.

Finally, Frank came to Annie Mae and told her it was time for them to leave Wascom and the saw mill. He told her that his time with the mill was done, and he was ready to seek his fortune in another city. What he didn’t tell her was that he’d gotten in trouble with the mill managers and they wanted him to leave, or they sick the white men on him.

“It’s time for us to tell your mother about us, and then get out of town. We’ll come back after I make enough money to impress Bessie, and she won’t be mad at us anymore.” Annie Mae snorted as she held Frank’s hand.

“That’s all nice for when we come back, but what about when we actually tell her we are going away? She will be plenty mad then, and we may not make it out of town!”

The two went over the plan for several hours, and decided that the best way would be to get Bessie drunk and then tell her. Annie Mae went home that afternoon and secretly packed her bag, then told her mother she was going fishing. Bessie was busy getting dinner ready for the mill men and didn’t even look at Annie Mae on her way out. However, several hours later, dinner had come and gone and Annie Mae hadn’t returned. Bessie was starting to wonder what her daughter was up to. When another hour passed, Bessie knew what she was up to, and with whom. But she simply waited for the couple to come to her. She figured that Annie Mae would try to slip in the house unnoticed and show up pregnant two months later. But Bessie was almost right--it was Frank who slipped into the house to converse with her. And he brought a nice jug of liquor and two glasses with him.

She eyed the glass in front of her with suspicion. What would make this boy bring a nice liquor like this over here, when he knew she didn't like him? Bessie knew something was amiss, but decided to let the boy have his say. But she still didn't pick up the glass.

"Now look here, McLemore! Just what kind of deviltry are you bringing 'round my house tonight?" Frank just smiled and motioned to the glass on the table.

"No deviltry at all, Miss Bessie, just fine drink! Won't you have a glass with me?"

Bessie snorted and drilled Frank with her eyes.

"Boy, I asked you a question. Ain't nothing in that there glass gon' tell me what I want to know."

Frank's face blanched for a second before smoothing back into a lopsided smile once again. He felt it made him look more innocent, but Bessie knew that too was a façade. The young man sat down, but stayed upright and attempted to meet Bessie's harsh glare.

"Ma'am I just wanted to talk to you about Annie Mae. See, I--"

"Excuse yourself! You think you can just come up in my house any hour of the night? Like a pretty smile and sweet words gon' get you whatever you want...WELL, IT AIN'T! Not in my house." Bessie sat back, satisfied by the cowed look on Frank's face.

"Now. What's in this damn bottle?"

Frank found his smile again. "Ma,am, this is the best hooch my white man keep on his shelf!"

"Oh, so you STOLE it?!"

"No Ma,am!" Frank exclaimed, knowing he had.

"A liar and a thief; that's what Annie Mae brings home...Oh Lord!" Bessie gave a theatrical moan. She threw the back of her hand across her forehead. Frank moved toward her as if to help and Bessie slapped at him.

"Don't touch me, boy. Just pour me one of those drinks. I feel a little weak."

Bessie sat back and watched young Frank pour the liquor into the glass. He did it expertly, spilling nary a drop and slid the tumbler across the table. Frank in turn watched Bessie sip from the glass delicately, then smack her lips in an exaggerated fashion.

"Good drink boy. Where'd you say you got it from?" Frank's smile came back. He was eager to answer to get back into Miss Bessie's good graces.

"Oh, I got this from a white man I work for in town. I did a real good job for him this week and he gave it to me. To celebrate, see, cuz I told him about me and Annie Mae."

Bessie interrupted him with an innocent wave of her hand, though Frank jumped back a little at the gesture.

"I ain't ask you all that. Just wanted to know where it came from." Bessie took another sip and peered through the candlelight at the eager young man across from her. She studied his face and the emotions she saw there. Eagerness, yes but she also saw hope. And determination. She raised her glass and emptied it.

"Pour me another, boy. And pour yourself one too. Don't make this beautiful woman drink alone. And while you're at it, answer me a question. Where did you meet my Annie Mae?"

"I met her--your daughter--at the mill down yonder," Frank said, taking a sip of the sweet liquor himself. Bessie tilted her glass until the amber liquid disappeared smoothly down her throat. Why, he looks downright confident, she thought. She put her glass down and motioned to Frank for a refill.

"And what were you doing down yonder at the saw mill?"

Frank said, "Oh, I work there" and realized immediately what he'd done. He took another sip and his respect for the formidable woman in front of him grew.

"So Frank, you know white men at the saw mill don't give away liquor to their employees. I reckon it's illegal for ya'll to imbibe even. So stop lying to me, boy! Did you steal this bottle?"

Frank didn't bother to lie, and simply nodded his head in assent.

"So you're a liar and a thief! Just like I said, ain't that right? Don't' lie again boy, or I'll knock you inta next week!" Bessie interjected when rank tried to please his case, so he just nodded again.

"I want you to say it out loud!"

Frank had now lost his smile completely, but repeated dutifully, "I am a liar and a thief." He then looked Bessie straight in the eye and added, "But I would do that and more for your daughter Annie Mae."

The gall of this boy! Bessie thought. But again she saw the determination in his face and made up her mind. She knew she wouldn't have a moment's peace with this boy bothering her all the time. How to get rid of him?

"Well, boy, you'se a liar and a thief to boot and as such, is liable to say anything. Can't say I believes anything come out yo' mouth related to my Annie Mae." Bessie swallowed the last of her drink and grinned at Frank.

"So you just gonna have to prove yourself. Drink up boy!"


Bessie made Frank take several drinks to catch up to her, then match her every drink afterwards. They drank till the bottle got low and Frank's eyes got lower. Bessie's eyes were dead red bloodshot. They also closed a lot. However, she could still see the silhouette of her youngest child in the shadows. Bessie was pretty intoxicated, but she spotted the knacksap at Annie Mae's feet. She switched her eyes to Frank, catching him sending Annie Mae a message over his shoulder. Before he could turn back, Bessie lay her head down & closed her eyes. She let her words slur a little bit more than they would have usually; she played drunk.

"Can't drink no more, boy. Go away now. We'll talk about Annie Mae more tomorrow." Bessie snorted, laid her head down on the table and waved Frank away from the table.

Frank looked at Bessie and wondered how she had drunk as much as she had and stayed conscious. He had known she was tough from the stories Annie Mae had told him, but he was still very impressed. He leaned over to Bessie and whispered in her ear.

"Me and Annie Mae running away to get married, Miss Bessie. I loves her. I promise to take good care of her, for sho." When Bessie didn't respond, Frank kissed her forehead--for he really did like her--and reached for the bottle of Hennessey.

"Leave the bottle, Frank" Bessie said in her best drunk voice. But her hand was steady as she took the bottle from Frank's hand. Frank burst into laughter at that, but left the bottle. He turned to Annie Mae waiting by the door, and started to take his leave. Neither one saw the glass tumbling towards Frank's head.


On the road, Annie Mae tended to the back of Frank's head and wondered aloud how long Bessie would be mad at them for running off.

"Oh, she won't be mad at all! I think she really likes me now. Did you see how she calls me Frank now instead of 'boy'?" Annie Mae wasn't so sure.

"That's just what she wanted you to think, honey. That kind of thinking already got you a glass to the back of the head."

Annie Mae turned out to be right. It was two more weeks before the newlyweds were allowed back home. Safely.

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Creative Commons License
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.