Old Writing Tidbits – Part 5 (Final for now)

Last part, back to pre-2007.

Just some old writing, unedited (recently at least) and raw from a writing pack rat.

Next week I’m going to do some episode 1 reviews. (Hopefully)

The logic in this story is painful, real bad logic.

Part 5: Johnny Boy

The black-hearted Uncle John only smirked as Anne remained silent. There was a small victory in making the lucky bitch speechless, or at least he found it so. With that nugget of silence, he knew his threat had hit her. Maybe, she was already thinking of a way around the scandal ahead. Though, the Uncle felt certain that he was ready for anything. He dropped a business card on the ground.

“Remember, I still have those pictures.” With that, he truly left and started to walk up to his worn pick-up truck. He won last time between them when it came to money, he was going to make sure he did this time as well. There was a slam of a door, the sound of a engine’s roar, and then the smell of burnt rubber was only left behind once the noise faded away. Moments passed.

A paper was picked up and then “Crap…” The door of the house slammed louder than the slam before, and was doubled locked quickly. “Crap…Crap…Crap…Crap…Crap.” Rung through the house in a little song of anger, as Anne paced through her house thinking. Her hand grabbed a vase of flowers, and she threw it at a near-by wall. Releasing all the tension in her momentarily as she cursed some more. Every time her life changes, her Uncle is there to ruin it now matter how sad or happy the change. She remembered being in her crying for days after her parents deaths, then he dared to take every they left her and kicked her to the streets. Now, she had a second chance of living, and he dared to yet again take it.

She took a deep breath, holding herself away from the brick of tears, and muttered. “Tom, he could save me. Those pictures, can’t be used.” Anne went into the kitchen and turn off the oven she almost forgot about, then picked up the phone. She held the phone close to ear, listening painfully as the other line just kept ringing. Then, the answer machine picked up and a cloud started raining above her. Beep…”Hm, It’s Anne….” The phone was picked up and there was some heavy breathing.”I’m sorry, I just heard it and was on the wrong floor. Anne?” The cloud faded and sun filled it’s place in her mind. “Yeah, I need your help badly Tom. Can you come over so I can explain?” There was short pause, “Yeah no problem. I”ll be there is a while.”

Anne sat down in her living, dazed in though, until the doorbell rung a hour later. She got up and opened to the much taller Tom. She gave a weak smile, always feeling somewhat uncomfortable around men. “Come in.” He was dressed in a business suit and looked very professional, she wondered how he got so neat and over to her house so quick. She lead him into the living room and went to get him coffee, trying to make sure he believed her and not her uncle. She sat down, and they stared at each other for a few moments till he cleared his throat. “You needed legal help I assume?” She was caught off guard somewhat, but nodded.

“When I was younger, my parents died and left me everything. But, my Uncle John kicked me out, took everything, and said I ran away with a boyfriend – which I no longer had. I let it happened, because he had something over me. Pictures, of me having intercourse with him. It was rape, he had me drugged up, but the pictures were setup to look different. By the time I awake, all evidence had been wash off me and the room. As much as I lost everything because of it, I still don’t want them to be shown. I’m not that kind of person. Now, he wants the money I won. I’m at a lost what to do.”

He nodded every once and awhile, taking in the facts and hating the Uncle slowly. His hand went to his chin, his eyes locked on the troubled girl in front of him. Truth be told, the Uncle had been smart. There was no way to prove who was right after all this time. The pictures most likely posed to make it look like she was the aggressive one. Plus, the bastard played on Anne’s personality. Tom could not think of any way he could make a sure win in court. He didn’t like it one bit, nor the Uncle, he started to form a plan in his head. How to make him pay and have Anne safe. “Call him, tell him you’d pay him, he just need to sign some papers from your accountant – me.”

She did, and two hours later the Uncle was there. Tom had drawn up some fake papers. And set them in front of the cursed man. John had a wide smile on and was ready with pen, he started to sign, and Anne could only sit in the corner. She did not know what Tom had in plan, but he said to trust him. She assumed there was a loophole in the papers or something. She stared at her feet. Bang… Anne looked up to see a unbelievable sight. There was Tom with a gloved hand on a gun, and John was falling forward But, Tom grabbed him and lifted him out of the chair. He tossed the fool towards Anne, till the dead body fell flat on the floor. Tom had yet to say a word. He just walked up to Anne and took off his glove. He smeared the gun resistance on her hand and then placed the gun in it.

“I was here and saw everything, having helped you come to an agreement. But, your Uncle wanted more, was getting anger, and attacked you. You grabbed a hidden gun in self defense and shot him.” He realized one problem. Without explaining, leaving Anne speechless and in shock. He walked to a glass table, and turn his back to it. Then he kicked the couch in front of him, causing him to lose balance and fall back. The glass stabbed into him back and he laid there in pain. “There…” He breathed hard. “…that’s why I couldn’t help. He pushed me…call 911 my dear.”

They won her non-guilty self-defense plead. And Anne would always known, Tom is a crazy lawyer with his own justice. Somewhere, deep within herself, she was glad.

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