Last week, we were asked to write a great sentence and post it on Chuck Wendig's site. There were over 200 choices to pick from! Very cool... so much choice! I found one I loved: 'All I got for my 19th birthday was pregnant and a criminal record' by Russell Appelt. And here's what I did with your sentence Russell. :D
“I love you, Celie.” Robert whispered softly in my ear, his strokes of his hands up and down my body made me shiver. It was the first time he had said the ‘L’ word to me; and I loved it that he had – finally.
I linked my hands around his neck as he gently moved between my legs, kissed my neck, made me want him in me as much as he wanted me, “Yes. Please.”
Moving back, he paused, staring into my eyes, smiling that wicked little grin he only saved for me and nobody else, and leaned down kissing me again.
I loved it that we had morning sex – Robert and me – because it was the way he saved that time for me; and me alone. We enjoyed each other totally and never looked at the clock to see how long it took for us to have a good old romp in the hay… according to us, we were the only two in existence and the rest of the world vanished. And most times, I’d be giddy all day just from that morning sex until he arrived home, where I’d nearly attack him when he walked through the door.
Our house mates thought it was sweet and lovely to start with, but it got old very quickly. After all, when two people are getting it on in the next room and your sex life isn’t as great as theirs, you’re constantly wondering what the hell is wrong with you, right? We didn’t mean to rub it into their faces, but really, we just loved each other completely.
One afternoon, Robert was late in arriving home. He had texted me and explained he was asked to stay back to help with something at the office – he did work with managers, so I didn’t worry – and so I got in and watched a bit of television and did my own thing for the night; for once. Turning in at around 10pm, I wondered where he was. But I left the front light on for him.
The doorbell woke me the next morning at around 5am. Pulling on my Summer brunch coat, I found some flip flops and shuffled out to the front door, unlocked it a little and pulled it open enough to talk through the chain. It was police, as they showed their ID and I closed the door and took the chain off its catch.
“How can I help you?” I asked, “It’s kinda early to door-knocking for you guys, isn’t it?”
“Yes it is. But there’s been a body found in your neighbourhood, miss.” One cop said. He pulled out an evidence bag and showed me Robert’s office ID, “Do you know this man?”
My stomach dropped as I muttered, “Yes.”
“How do you know him?”
“He’s my boyfriend.” I whispered, then cleared my throat, “What happened to him?”
“We’re trying to figure that out.”
“Listen, I gotta get changed, do you mind waiting until I do, so I can come with you to identify him?”
The two nodded, and one walked inside, “Sure.”
I rushed into the bedroom, closed the door and looked for something to wear. As I rummaged through the wash basket, I found a pair of jeans – which weren’t mine – clogged with blood. I wondered what the hell happened? Searching further, I found a matching blood-clogged t-shirt and sweater. Exactly what happened last night? I dropped them into the basket, closed the lid and put on clean clothes from the wardrobe.
At the station, they sat me down and asked me where I was, who I was, how I knew Robert and our living arrangements. He also asked me if I knew about his wife.
“Wife?” I frowned, “Robert doesn’t have a wife.”
The cop placed on the table a wedding ring in an evidence bag. I looked at it and found engraved on the inside of it: ‘Two souls intertwined forever’
“This was on his person, on his hand.” The cop said watching me carefully. Somebody tapped at the mirror, and the cop glanced over, excused himself and left the room for a moment. He returned before I knew it with two new evidence bags filled with the clothes I had found, “Why didn’t you tell us about these?”
“Because… I don’t know how they came to be in my house.” I said, “And if I said something, you would have arrested me under suspicion.”
“You’re right.” He nodded, “But they were in your house, and you live alone.”
“No, I don’t.” I shook my head, “We – I have house mates.”
He sat back, “You live in a two bedroom house and your name is the only one on the lease. The real estate has never seen anyone else live there but you.” He rose, “Please wait here.” Leaving again, he closed and locked the door.
I couldn’t move, as they had cuffed me to the table… yep, I was in the shit alright.
The door opened again. My parents were standing there. Mum started to cry and turned away muttering, “It always starts on this particular birthday… and I bet, oh god, I bet she’s pregnant too.” She couldn’t look at me as she walked out.
Dad walked in, “Celie, it’s your 19th birthday today.”
“Why don’t I remember what I did last night?”
He moved to take my hands, but hesitated, “Because you’ve blocked it out. You found out Robert lied to you about his marital status.” He paused, “Your house mates were the first signs of schizophrenia because you live alone, sweetheart, and you need help badly.”
“But I love Robert.”
“And your jealousy killed him.” He looked down, “This won’t be taken to court.”
“Because they found his wife in the second bedroom… he’s been looking for her for weeks.” He said. As Dad looked to the table, the door opened and a doctor walked in with two orderlies, “Please let us help you.”
All I got for my 19th birthday was pregnant and a criminal record.