Another writing prompt story from my writers group.

Prompt: Imagine the most harmless, least frightening thing you can think of, and write about someone who’s deathly afraid of it.

“What the hell Julie???  I thought I told you never to bring these damn things into the house!” I shouted as I ran from the bathroom, my hands trembling as my whole body suddenly felt hollow inside.  “Get those stupid things the hell outta here!”

“What the hell is it with you and your Q-tip phobia?” she asked irritably as she brushed past me roughly and grabbed the box of those horrid, cotton tipped death machines from the sink.  “I need these for my makeup, and to clean my ears and stuff.”

“No!!!  Don’t you ever stick those things in your ears!!!” I shouted, cringing as she walked out and shook the box in my face just to be an annoying bitch.  I hated it when she was in a mood like this.  It was then that I realized that a few of the dreaded things had fallen out of the box, and one of them had landed on my shoe.  I squealed like a little girl and scooted down the hall so fast that I slammed into the wall, and then slid down into a crouching position, cowering in fear as she looked at me and shook her head in disgust.

“Ok seriously, what the hell is wrong with you?” she demanded.  “This just isn’t rational.  There’s gotta be something behind this phobia of yours.  Maybe you should get some therapy.”

“I don’t wanna talk about it,” I said, cringing as I glanced down at the floor where I’d been standing.

“Come on, just tell me what it is.  Maybe it’ll help to get it out,” she prodded.

“It’s just…”

“What?” she asked.

“Q-tips killed my father,” I said as I closed my eyes and relived the horror of that day in my head for about the millionth time.

“What do you mean Q-tips killed your father?  How the hell could Q-tips kill anyone?”

“He was playin’ around with me when I was a kid.  I was only about five at the time.  He used to goof around, putting ‘em in his ears and up his nose and stuff, and then he’d chase me around the house.  Well one day he was chasin’ me around, and he tripped on a toy I’d left on the floor.  When he fell, the Q-tips he had up his nose got shoved all the way up, and then his head bounced and one of the ones he had in his ears got jammed in and ruptured his eardrum.  Mom rushed him to the hospital and they pulled ‘em out, but they didn’t get all of ‘em.  There were still pieces broken off inside, and they got infected.  He was in massive pain for like two days before the infection spread into his blood stream and killed him.”

“Oh my god, why didn’t you ever tell me that???” she asked, suddenly quite sympathetic to his condition.

“I try not to think about it.  It’s been living in my head since I was five, and all I can think is, why didn’t I put my toys away?  If I’d have only put my toys away, my father would still be alive.”

“Well you can’t keep living like this, so we’re gonna have to cure you of this thing once and for all,” she said as she pulled out some Q-tips and started shoving them into her ears and up her nose.

“No!!!” I shouted as I got up and ran toward her.  “Stop!  Don’t do that!”

“See, they’re harmless,” she said as my sock-covered feet skidded along the hardwood floor.  Unable to stop, I unintentionally slammed into her, sending her sideways into the wall.  The Q-tip in her ear hit the wall and got shoved deep into her ear canal, and as she screamed out in pain, she spun around, lost her balance, and fell face first onto the floor.  The Q-tips in her nose were driven deep into her sinus cavity, and she was knocked unconscious.

Unable to cope with not only what I’d done to her, but with the flashbacks I was experiencing about my father, I curled up into a little ball and leaned against the wall of the hallway, mumbling to myself incoherently as I watched her choke to death on her own blood.

The police didn’t charge me with anything because they didn’t know what to charge me with.  They knew I didn’t insert the Q-tips into her nose and ears, but they had to do something with me, so they took me into the hospital for a 72-hour psych eval, which ended up turning into a much longer stay.  Maybe someday I’ll be able to believe that it was all just a coincidence, and that Q-tips really aren’t all that dangerous…or maybe, just maybe…that conviction will only get stronger as the body count of the unsuspecting Q-tip users continues to grow exponentially.  Only time will tell I suppose.

Prompt: Scare your audience in one or two sentences.

“Did I do it right?” the child asked after he’d buried the kitchen knife into the back of his mother’s neck.

“She’s my mother now,” a disembodied voice said from behind him.
 

This is another piece I wrote for a writing prompt with my writers group.  We have a limited amount of time to write whatever we can on these prompts, so we just have to get through as much as we can in the time allotted.

Prompt: The prompt was, God is an elected position, and the election is coming.

“So who all am I running against?” Yahweh asked the angel Gabriel, who was currently acting as his campaign manager.  The elections for the position of God only happened every few thousand years, and Yahweh was in the incumbent position.  Unfortunately, he was facing some stiff competition this time around.  He’d been rather lazy and absent when it came to his duties, and numerous other gods had stepped up to challenge him in the current election cycle.

“Well, first off there’s Buddah,” Gabriel said as he looked down at the list he was holding.

“Buddah?  He’s not even a god!  How can he be running?  Isn’t there some rule against that?” Yahweh demanded.

“Apparently he has enough worshipers to qualify.  Besides, if we let him run, at least it’ll keep his followers busy for a while and we won’t have to listen to all that stupid chanting they do that puts me to sleep every time I hear it.”

“Yeah, me too.  Oh well, at least he’s a pretty mellow guy, so we won’t have to worry about any mud slinging from him.  Who else we got?” he asked.  Gabriel looked down at his list once again.

“Lucifer the Lightbringer,” Gabriel said.

“Oh god, him again.  Didn’t I banish him?” Yahweh asked.

“Yeah, but he’s developed quite a following over the past few millennia; mostly among the heavy metal fans and the Goth types.  The latest polls show him closing in on us fast.  He’ already within the margin of error.”

“Can’t we get some dirt on him or somethin’?”

“On Lucifer?  Are you serious?  It’s the dirt that makes him so popular,” Gabriel said.  “Anyway, he’s not the only one we have to worry about.  Thor is rising in the polls as well thanks to some stupid movies he’s been in, and Zeus is right there with him.”

“Zeus?  I didn’t know that old bastard was running for this.  Why would anyone vote for him?  I mean, he killed his own father.  How could anyone find that appealing?”

“Yeah well, to be fair, Cronos was kind of an ass hole, so he totally deserved it.  Besides, you let your son get tortured and killed, so you know…glass houses and all that.  Probably better if we just don’t mention the whole patricide thing with Zeus, otherwise you’re gonna be opening a door you don’t want him walkin’ through,” Gabriel advised.

“All right, anyone else?” Yahweh asked.

“Yeah, there’s a few Egyptian gods running, but they don’t have much support at the moment.  Then there’s the Flying Spaghetti Monster…”

“What???  The Flying Spaghetti Monster?  He’s not even real!  How can he be running???” Yahweh asked incredulously as he cocked his eyebrow at Gabriel.

“Actually sir, he does exist.  Don’t you remember that night we visited Earth and went to that Italian restaurant.  You got all drunk and said Hey, watch this!”

“Oh…shit, that’s right.  Jeez, I forgot all about that.  That was pretty fun though, wasn’t it?  That place had great bread sticks.”

“Come on now, focus!” Gabriel said firmly.  “We’ve got an election to win here!”

“So who do we really need to be concerned about?” Yahweh asked.

“Mostly Lucifer and Thor I think, but like I said, Buddah’s making a fairly good showing as well.”

“All right, let’s get to work then,” Yahweh said with a heavy sigh.  “I hate running for office.  Maybe I should just retire.”

“Up to you,” Gabriel said with a shrug.  “You gotta remember though, if Buddah wins, we’re gonna have to listen to all that stupid chanting for the next few millennia.”

“Ugh…ok.  Let’s get started then,” Yahweh said, rolling his eyes in an exasperated fashion.  “You got the practice debate questions ready?”

“Yep, got ’em right here.  Let’s get to it,” Gabriel said as he flipped through the pages in his notebook.