Showing posts with label Not Alone. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Not Alone. Show all posts

Thursday, May 7, 2015

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The Many Faces of Chelle Cordero is a single author collection of short stories featuring Introduction, Pussycat Tails, Holiday Happiness, Not Alone, I Swear That Raccoon Just Knocked on the Door, Stormy Weather, A Mother’s Love, More Than a Friend,
The Meeting, and The Vacation





Saturday, November 15, 2014

One more snippet from NOT ALONE - Weekend Writing Warriors / #8sunday / 11/16/14

Hi! Welcome to another Weekend Writing Warrior round. Every week writers post 8 sentences on their blogs from a published or unpublished book. Then we "hop" around and leave comments on each other's snippets. Whether our work is already published or in progress, the helpful comments help us become stronger writers on our next WIP. We welcome EVERYONE's comments.

See more at the
WeWriWa blog

A few weeks ago I began running snippets from the story Not Alone from my short story collection, The Many Faces of Chelle Cordero.Told in 1st person POV we learned that someone had died and everyone was blaming Jordan, including the narrator. Here is one more snippet from the story and we'll find out a bit more of what happened... Next week I'll move on to another story - but read to the end of this post if you are still interested in finding out how this story goes.


Kimmie’s dad came by to pick up the rest of his daughter’s things; we shared a suite in the dorms. He hugged me and thanked me for the friendship I shared with his daughter. He told me how much it meant to him and his wife to hear me talk about Kimmie during the memorial service. Then he asked me to help keep Kimmie alive by never forgetting her. When he left, the tears began to fall again and I stared at a picture of my best friend while I cried.
Maybe I didn’t really, or maybe I did, but I heard Kimmie’s voice telling me that Jordan needed me. I thought that maybe I was losing my mind, it could have just been the desperation I felt, but I knew that I heard her voice. So I went over to Jordan’s off-campus apartment; I stared at his door for a few minutes before I actually knocked.


 For more WeWriWa snippets, go to www.wewriwa.com


Not Alone

Sometimes forgiveness seems impossible, but then so is turning your back on a friend.

 AUDIO 

PRINT 

Kindle 

 AllRomance Ebooks 

 iBooks 

 Smashwords 

NOT ALONE is available as a FREE
audio preview of my short story collection


Download Chelle’s audio story NOT ALONE
from this short story collection [FREE]
http://store.payloadz.com/go?id=1901650
(narrated by Wendy Tremont King)

Saturday, November 8, 2014

The story behind Not Alone ~ Weekend Writing Warriors / #8sunday / 11/09/14

Hi! Welcome to another Weekend Writing Warrior round. Every week writers post 8 sentences on their blogs from a published or unpublished book. Then we "hop" around and leave comments on each other's snippets. Whether our work is already published or in progress, the helpful comments help us become stronger writers on our next WIP. We welcome EVERYONE's comments.

See more at the WeWriWa blog

Last week I started with a snippet from the story Not Alone from my short story collection, The Many Faces of Chelle Cordero.Told in 1st person POV we learned that someone had died and everyone was blaming Jordan, including the narrator. Here is another snippet from the story and we'll find out a bit more of what happened...


As word of Kimmie’s death spread across the campus, the ostracizing began. Her friends and classmates were too stunned to think beyond losing such a young, vibrant friend. Kimmie’s parents had suffered one of the worst things that ever could happen to a parent; they had no room for forgiveness in their hearts, grief was taking up too much space. It was easier to blame someone than to try to make sense of it, our friends turned on Jordan as well.
I cried non-stop at Kimmie’s funeral and thought of all the long phone calls we had and the shopping trips to the mall and cramming for tests. I couldn’t imagine a world without my best friend or a world without her laughter. Even though I knew that Jordan had been banned from attending the funeral I was angry that he wasn’t there to witness the mourning, the loss and the questions of how we were all supposed to go on.

That was yesterday.

 For more WeWriWa snippets, go to www.wewriwa.com


Not Alone

Sometimes forgiveness seems impossible, but then so is turning your back on a friend.

 AUDIO 

PRINT 

Kindle 

 AllRomance Ebooks 

 iBooks 

 Smashwords 

The Many Faces of Chelle Cordero is a single author collection of short stories featuring Introduction, Pussycat Tails, Holiday Happiness, Not Alone, I Swear That Raccoon Just Knocked on the Door, Stormy Weather, A Mother’s Love, More Than a Friend, The Meeting, The Vacation and a special bonus section.

The Inspiration For This Story: First let me put the disclaimer here that this story is PURE fiction, however I was inspired to write it after an incident that happened near my home.
Without going into the identifying details - a young man that we had known for a number of years was involved in a work related accident, he was driving. His co-worker, sitting in the passenger seat, was severely injured and left disabled, no one knew for sure, including the doctors, if she would even survive. It was known that his injuries, although serious, were not life threatening and after long-term physical therapy would be overcome. Although witnesses came forward to say he didn't appear to be at fault, the girl's parents and several friends blamed him for her injuries.
I remember speaking with him one evening when he came to visit, he was still wearing a back brace and bandages. He was blaming himself - he said maybe if his reaction had been quicker, if the major impact was on his side and not hers, if he had chosen a different route all together, if, if, if...
What I remember most from our conversation that night was a  combination of hurt and anger he expressed - while in the hospital they placed him under a suicide watch because, when he first found out how maimed she was, he uttered the words, "It should have been me." He told me that the last thing he would do would be to take "the easy way out" and relieve himself of his guilt by killing himself.
The case went to trial and he was found innocent of criminal negligence, but did lose a lawsuit in civil court her parents initiated. He also lost his livelihood because of liability after the lawsuit.
I definitely thought of the pain in this young man's eyes when I created Jordan.

Saturday, November 1, 2014

How Kimmie Died ~ Weekend Writing Warriors / #8sunday / 11/02/14

Hi! Welcome to another Weekend Writing Warrior round. Every week writers post 8 sentences on their blogs from a published or unpublished book. Then we "hop" around and leave comments on each other's snippets. Whether our work is already published or in progress, the helpful comments help us become stronger writers on our next WIP. We welcome EVERYONE's comments.

See more at the WeWriWa blog

Last week I started with a snippet from the story Not Alone from my short story collection, The Many Faces of Chelle Cordero.. Told in 1st person POV we learned that someone had died and everyone was blaming Jordan, including the narrator. Here is another snippet from the story and we'll find out a bit more of what happened...



I left the party that night early, too early to know that Kimmie’s boyfriend dumped her and left her at the party while he went home with another girl. She was upset and shouldn’t have been drinking; most of the folks at the party were under the legal drinking age – but that’s another issue altogether.

Kimmie wanted to go home, she couldn’t even hold onto her keys, Jordan offered to drive her. He drank a beer early in the evening, he was one of the few who could legally, and then he hadn’t had anything else for hours. The cops even said that his blood alcohol level was well below the legal limits, Jordan was just trying to be a nice guy.

I visited Jordan in his hospital room right after I heard about the accident, I didn’t even know that Kimmie was dead. Jordan was devastated, he told me how he got cut off on that dark and winding road and the car rolled down the embankment. There were no witnesses; just a minor paint scrape on the front fender.

 For more WeWriWa snippets, go to www.wewriwa.com


Not Alone

Sometimes forgiveness seems impossible, but then so is turning your back on a friend.

 AUDIO 

PRINT 

Kindle 

 AllRomance Ebooks 

 iBooks 

 Smashwords 

The Many Faces of Chelle Cordero is a single author collection of short stories featuring Introduction, Pussycat Tails, Holiday Happiness, Not Alone, I Swear That Raccoon Just Knocked on the Door, Stormy Weather, A Mother’s Love, More Than a Friend, The Meeting, The Vacation and a special bonus section.

Saturday, October 25, 2014

Part of a short story collection - Weekend Writing Warriors / #8sunday / 10/26/14

Hi! Welcome to another Weekend Writing Warrior round. Every week writers post 8 sentences on their blogs from a published or unpublished book. Then we "hop" around and leave comments on each other's snippets. Whether our work is already published or in progress, the helpful comments help us become stronger writers on our next WIP. We welcome EVERYONE's comments.

See more at the WeWriWa blog

Last week I hadn't realized that I had already run through a group of A Chaunce of Riches snippets earlier this year, so I am changing direction this week and will feature my short story collection, The Many Faces of Chelle Cordero.

Here is a snippet from the story Not Alone...

I ignored the changing numbers on the alarm clock as long as I could. I still refused to believe that anything that had happened over the past few days was real; it was all a nightmare, that’s all.

As my toes sought the warmth of my slippers, the tears began to fall again, no matter how many times I tried to deny it, my best friend was buried yesterday. They wouldn’t let Jordan come to the cemetery. Everyone blamed him, even me.

For the two days that Jordan had been hospitalized, they kept him under a suicide watch. That angered him because it meant that people thought he would want to take “the coward’s way out” as he called it. He said it wasn’t his fault, but he still blamed himself.

 For more WeWriWa snippets, go to www.wewriwa.com


Not Alone

Sometimes forgiveness seems impossible, but then so is turning your back on a friend.

 AUDIO 

PRINT 

Kindle 

 AllRomance Ebooks 

 iBooks 

 Smashwords 


Sunday, June 9, 2013

A revival (& a short story)

Sometime in the 1980's I wrote a manuscript I called More Than a Friend - it was about a female NYC police officer, the (gender) prejudice she encountered on the job and two men, the one she married and the one who loved her. It had suspense, mystery, passion and, of course, a happy ever after.

I made the rounds of big-name print publishers and and a few agents; while I received some compliments, some constructive criticism, and many form letter rejections, no one wanted to take a risk on a relatively new writer. Although I had started writing professionally, it was mostly as a stringer for a local weekly paper.

The manuscript was put away in a drawer. A few years later my sister and I attacked it with a fresh re-write. Long story short, it went back in a drawer again. I never thought to send it to small press or e-publishers.

As any writer knows, our characters are our pseudo children and we yearn to bring them to life. Unfortunately Jerry and Janis, my main characters in More Than a Friend, had resided silently in drawer space for decades.

BUT I FINALLY DID IT!

Thanks to Vanilla Heart Publishing and managing editor Kimberlee Williams, Jerry and Janis are alive and well and living in a short story called More Than a Friend in The Many Faces of Chelle Cordero: Short Story Collection, Vol 1

I am so excited to see my characters given a chance at life.

from the intro:

As a youngster I was always fascinated by Robert Frost’s poem “The Road Not Taken” and the concept that every decision we make can have life altering effects.
“I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.”
I have never regretted the roads I chose to lead me to where my life is now, but I certainly had no idea when I was a teen of the things I would get to see and do in my lifetime...


The Many Faces of Chelle Cordero Short Story Collection Volume 1

including:
Nine short stories and a special bonus section, featuring:
Introduction
Pussycat Tails
Holiday Happiness
Not Alone
I Swear That Raccoon Just Knocked on the Door
Stormy Weather
A Mother’s Love
More Than a Friend
The Meeting
The Vacation


Available on Smashwords http://bit.ly/13sN86Q
and on Amazon Kindle :http://amzn.to/13sMXZt



Saturday, January 8, 2011

When Love is Not Enough

A common thread in all of my stories is trust. Sometimes there is complete lust, sexy attraction, passionate opportunities – but if the couple has a chance in hell, or heaven, they have to trust each other.

In Bartlett’s Rule Paige’s past makes it difficult for her to trust any man and nearly impossible for her to trust her own judgment. Along comes Lon whose patience and compassion teaches her she can trust. Then when events occur that put Lon in jeopardy, Paige never loses her faith in him even though she’s prevented from showing her support. Brandon deceives Caitlyn in a vain attempt to keep her safe in His Lucky Charm, instead though he almost loses her for good when his duplicity is too much for her to accept.

Adam shares his deepest secret with Davie in Courage of the Heart. While Adam trusts her enough to take the risk he is scared of her reaction, but thrilled when he receives her acceptance. In Final Sin a psychopath targets Jake and Julie when they act on their mutual attraction. Despite the torrid passion between them, they are torn apart when they lose trust in each other, it’s that trust that will, hopefully, save them both.

This theme is prevalent in all of my novels and stories whether is a passionate love affair or a close, platonic friendship –In Not Alone, a short story in the Forever Friends anthology, trust is questioned when a mutual friend dies in a car accident and when trust is regained and strengthened, the friends stand by each other.

Most of my stories involve love, many even include mind-blowing sex, but sometimes even love isn’t enough to make and keep my characters happy and bonded with each other. I believe that trust is the foundation of any worthwhile relationship.

(excerpt from A Chaunce of Riches)

“Where are you going? You’re the one who wanted to... have sex. I just want to see what you wear to bed.” He was talking in a loud whisper so that no one else in the house was disturbed.

“You weren’t drunk when I said I wanted to make love with you.” She tried to pull her hand away again but he wouldn’t let her go.

“I told you I am not drunk.” He sounded annoyed. “And I didn’t come here to have sex with you.”

She relaxed and stopped pulling away from him. “Then why are you here?”

“We need to talk.” He sat down heavily on the side of her bed and leaned back against the headboard. Ben kicked his shoes off and stretched his long legs out in front of him. He was still holding on to her.

She was annoyed that he had frightened her. “What do you want to talk about?”

Ben took her by the shoulders and turned her towards him. He squinted in the dark. Sam felt exposed under his gaze. “Is that a nightgown? How long is it?”

“To my knees.” She still wasn’t convinced of his sobriety.

He released her suddenly. “It’s not very sexy.”

“Well excuse me, I didn’t know I had to dress for company.” She sounded indignant.

“I remember when you used to wear one of my T-shirts to bed. Now that was sexy.” He told himself that her tousled hair and the simple fact that she was lying there in a bed wasn’t turning him on.

“That was a long time ago.” She painfully whispered.

He laughed. Then there was silence.

Finally Sam sighed and relaxed beside him. “What did you want to talk about?”

He looked at her in the dark. “You, me, sex, your husband, who killed him and who is trying to scare you?”

“Is that all one question?”

“Don’t be bitchy.” He sounded exasperated. “Did you love him?”

“Julian? He was a good man.”

Ben snorted. “That doesn’t sound like you loved him.”

“He’s gone.” She sounded sad. “Why do you need to ask?”

He grimaced. “Did you ever love me Sam? I know you said you did. But did you really?”

“Yes.” She still did but she knew he would never believe her.

“Then I don’t understand why you did what you did. If it were just the money... Sam, it’s not like you had a fling with the guy. You married him... you gave him a son. You lived in his world.” His words hung in the air. “And you never thought twice about me.”

He could hear her breathing in the dark. Sam was struggling not to cry.

“I can’t undo the things I did. I am so sorry I hurt you Ben.” Her voice cracked and she had to pause. “I really thought you would have found someone else and would be married by now...”

“I will never again put myself out there. I will never again trust a woman with my heart.”

“But Ben,”

“Don’t sound so surprised. That’s the lesson you taught me Sam.” He shook his head. “I never needed someone as much as I needed you when I woke up in the hospital. You have no idea what I went through.”

“Tell me.” He didn’t know how much she knew. He didn’t know that she was willing to do anything to save his life. He didn’t know that she was willing to sell herself to Julian to pay for his medical care.

“No. It was a long road. If you had cared, you would have been there.”

“So are you saying we’re stuck now? We can’t move on?” Sam turned to him. “Ben, we’re here now, together. We can be together now. Ben, you could have died but you didn’t...”

“We both could have died.” He thought she was talking about the car accident. “And you could have stayed.” He was quiet for a long time. “I wish I could forgive you, but I don’t think I’ll ever be able to.”


Thursday, September 9, 2010

Not Alone - part 4 of 4

I am posting my short story NOT ALONE from the anthology FOREVER FRIENDS in 4 installments beginning Aug 22. (by the way, if you are impatient, sign up on my ChelleWrites Yahoo Group mail list and download it in its entirety)

read part 1 - 8/22

Not Alone - part 4 of 4

He slumped back in the couch and then he started to talk. He wasn’t looking at me. I had heard most of it before, but I needed to hear it again and I needed to hear it from his lips. Kimmie had gotten drunk and she was angry at her boyfriend for leaving with someone else. Jordan was trying to be nice, he was trying to make sure that she was taken care of. She was difficult to control in the car and she had gotten sick. Jordan had just handed her a bag to throw up in when he took his eyes from the road. Then that car appeared and never stopped.

Jordan was quiet for a long time. He had to clear his throat before he spoke again. “You’d better leave now. People won’t be too happy with you if they know you were here.”

“I don’t care what anyone else thinks.”

“I do. I don’t want to ruin your life anymore than I already have.” He stood and put a hand out to me. “It means a lot to me that you came here today though. I want you to know that.

I took his hand and held onto it when I stood. “What are you going to do Jordan? You can’t hide in here forever. What about your classes? All those plans you had?”

He sighed. “I can’t think about that now …” He gently ushered me to the door. “I’m not going to fight Kimmie’s parents. I probably won’t be able to continue school after that anyway.”

When he closed the door behind me, I felt even more loss than I had before. My friend needed me but he wouldn’t accept my help.

I dragged myself to classes over the next few weeks. As far as I knew, Jordan dropped out of his. When I called him, he refused to talk. And he wouldn’t let me come over again. Listening to my classmates who knew Kimmie, I could tell that Jordan was right. People wouldn’t be very happy with me if they knew I was trying to help him. He was trying to protect me.

The school moved another student into the suite and into Kimmie’s room. She had just transferred from another school and she knew nothing about the girl who had slept in that room before her. And I resented her presence. That was always going to be Kimmie’s room and I wasn’t very nice to her. And I resented the fact that Jordan had pushed me away.

The next day I heard a few of the students talking in the library. They mentioned Jordan and the lawsuit. He had to appear in court … today. I ran back to my room and got changed. And then I caught a bus to take me into town and to the courthouse. I got to the lobby just before the doors were opened and people were going to be let in.

Jordan was standing there, alone. He looked sad. I could tell that he had lost weight since I saw him last. He didn’t hear me come up behind him and I slipped my hand into his.

He was startled as he looked at me, then he looked around the lobby. Jordan looked down at me. “People are going to hate you for being here.”

“You’re my friend Jordan. This is where I’m supposed to be.”

I didn’t feel so alone anymore.


Friday, September 3, 2010

Not Alone - part 3 of 4

I am posting my short story NOT ALONE from the anthology FOREVER FRIENDS in 4 installments beginning Aug 22. (by the way, if you are impatient, sign up on my ChelleWrites Yahoo Group mail list and download it in its entirety)

read part 1 - 8/22

Not Alone - part 3 of 4


Jordan looked unsure and then he just shrugged and allowed me to enter. He slowly closed the door behind us as I walked into his living room. I sat and he stood where he was. There was a photograph of the three of us lying on the coffee table. I picked up the picture; he came closer and looked like he was ready to snatch it back. But he didn’t. There were a series of indescribable emotions that flitted across his expressive eyes.

“How are you doing Jordan?”

“I’m still alive… I don’t know why, but I am.”

“Thank God.” I meant it.

He guffawed scornfully. “You don’t have to lie.”

“But I’m not, Jordan. I’m glad that you survived. It was hard enough to bury one friend…”

He sat heavily on the couch near me. “It should have been me.” Jordan looked directly at me, his eyes were moist. “I swear, I would give my life if it would bring her back. I would give my life if I thought it would just ease the pain for her parents and her friends. Trust me, I wish that I were dead.”

“Please don’t say that Jordan. We need you. I need you.” He simply shook his head sadly. “Tell me what happened?”

“I… I don’t really remember.” He looked haunted. “I can remember going to take Kimmie home. She drank too much and she got sick in the car. I glanced over at her. When I looked back again, a car was passing me and it pulled into my lane. I know that it caught my fender. I don’t remember what happened after that.”

I had heard that he told a police officer at the scene that he didn’t know what happened just before he passed out. “You were hurt, too. And everything happened so fast…”

He looked suspiciously at me. “Why are you so curious all of a sudden? Did her parents put you up to this?”

“Did her parents…?” I shook my head and was confused. “No, why would they?”

“Come on. Are you going to try telling me that you don’t know about the lawsuit?”

“What law suit?”

“Kimmie’s parents are suing me for wrongful death. They’re claiming that I killed their daughter.” He paused. “Actually I agree with them.” The police hadn’t filed criminal charges.

“It was an accident Jordan.”

“I figured she was too drunk to get herself home safely. I thought I could drive her home and she could sleep it off. But somehow I let that car get in my way.”

“You were trying to keep Kimmie safe. You did the right thing.”

“And I got her killed.” Jordan stood and paced. “What I don’t under-stand is why you’re here.”

“Jordan, you’re my friend too. Don’t you remember when I came to visit you in the hospital?” I never went back after that first day. “I was worried about you.”

He sat down next to me again and braced his arm against the back of the couch. Jordan leaned towards me. “So where were you since then?”

I couldn’t help it; the tears flowed. “I’m sorry Jordan. I had to think. I was angry that Kimmie was dead …”

“And you blamed me?”

“No … yes. I’m not sure.” I tried not to cry and I sniffled. “I didn’t know what to think. It’s only just beginning to sink in now. I woke up this morning and I really realized that she’s gone … but you aren’t. I … I didn’t want to lose you too.”

He was surprised by what I had just said.

“Jordan, tell me what happened that night. I need to hear.”




Saturday, August 28, 2010

Not Alone - part 2 of 4

I am posting my short story NOT ALONE from the anthology FOREVER FRIENDS in 4 installments beginning Aug 22. (by the way, if you are impatient, sign up on my ChelleWrites Yahoo Group mail list and download it in its entirety)

read part 1 - 8/22

Not Alone
- part 2 of 4

As word of Kimmie’s death spread across the campus, the ostracizing began. Her friends and classmates were too stunned to think beyond losing such a young, vibrant friend. Kimmie’s parents had suffered one of the worst things that ever could happen to a parent. They had no room for forgiveness in their hearts; grief was taking up too much space. It was easier to blame someone; it was far easier to blame Jordan than to try to make sense of it. And our friends, they turned on Jordan as well. No one had any time or any will to think of the desolation that Jordan was feeling.

I cried non-stop at Kimmie’s funeral and thought of all the long phone calls we had and the shopping trips to the mall and cramming for tests. None of my peers was dry eyed either. I couldn’t imagine a world without my best friend or a world without her laughter. We had been friends since our freshman year of high school and I felt a monumental loss. Each of us was self-absorbed in what we had lost when Kimmie’s mother let out a wail of grief that twisted our guts. Even though I knew that Jordan had been banned from attending the funeral, I was angry that he wasn’t there to witness the mourning, the loss and the questions of how we were all supposed to go on without Kimmie in our lives.

That was yesterday.

I woke up crying again. I cried not only for the loss of my closest and dearest friend, but also for the loss of the camaraderie we had with Jordan. It was obvious that Jordan had an interest in Kimmie at the beginning of previous school year and, as Kimmie admitted, he was just so damn cute. I tried to match them up; she knew how he felt. Kimmie wasn’t interested in Jordan in that way though and eventually he was able to accept that. He was always there to lend her his shoulder when she needed to talk about some guy she was seeing or to high-five her when she was happy after a date. He was there for me too; he just never seemed to think of me as anything more than a kid sister.

So the three of us became good friends and since he was a year ahead of us in school, he never minded showing us around or helping us learn a little more about campus life. Kimmie was always the first person I would call when I needed to talk and if she didn’t answer her phone, Jordan was next. I cried even harder when I realized that I had lost not one but two friends. None of our other friends wanted anything to do with Jordan; his loudest critic was Kimmie’s boyfriend. No one bothered to ask the boyfriend why he left Kimmie that night, no one assigned any of the blame to him. It was all Jordan’s fault.

I dressed but I couldn’t bring myself to go to any of my classes. Kimmie’s dad came by to pick up the rest of his daughter’s things; we shared a suite in the dorms. He hugged me and thanked me for the friendship I shared with his daughter. He told me how much it meant to him and his wife to hear me talk about Kimmie during the memorial service. Then he asked me to help keep Kimmie alive by never forgetting her. When he left, the tears began to fall again and I stared at a picture of my best friend while I cried.

Maybe I didn’t really, or maybe I did, but I heard Kimmie’s voice telling me that Jordan needed me. I thought that maybe I was losing my mind. It could have just been the desperation I felt, but I knew that I heard her voice. So I went over to Jordan’s off-campus apartment. Kim-mie and I had gone there often. I stared at his door for a few minutes before I actually knocked.

Jordan looked horrible when he answered the door. And he looked surprised.

“What are you doing here? Did you forget a few names?”

“I didn’t come to call you names. I didn’t come to be angry.”

“Then why are you here?”

“I wanted to talk.” He was quiet as he stared at me. “May I come in?”


Sunday, August 22, 2010

Not Alone - part 1 of 4

I am posting my short story NOT ALONE from the anthology FOREVER FRIENDS in 4 installments starting today. (by the way, if you are impatient, sign up on my ChelleWrites Yahoo Group mail list and download it in its entirety)


Not Alone - part 1 of 4

I ignored the changing numbers on the alarm clock as long as I could. I still refused to believe that anything that had happened over the past few days was real. It was all a nightmare, that’s all.

As my toes sought the warmth of my slippers, the tears began to fall again. No matter how many times I tried to deny it, my best friend was buried yesterday. They wouldn’t let Jordan come to the cemetery; every-one blamed him. Even me.

For the two days that Jordan had been hospitalized, they kept him under a suicide watch. That angered him. Not because he wanted to commit suicide, but because it meant that people thought he would want to take “the coward’s way out” as he put it and avoid facing what had happened. He said it wasn’t his fault, but he still blamed himself.

I left the party that night early, too early to know everything that had transpired. Kimmie’s boyfriend dumped her, he left her at the party while he went home with another girl. She was upset and she drank more than she should have. Actually, she shouldn’t have been drinking at all; most of the folks at the party were under the legal drinking age – but that’s another issue altogether.

Eventually Kimmie wanted to go home and, as it was explained to me, she had trouble even holding onto the keys from her handbag. So Jordan offered to drive her. He drank a beer early in the evening; he was one of the few who could legally, and then he hadn’t had anything else. That was hours earlier. The cops even said that his blood alcohol level was well below the legal limits. Jordan was just trying to be a nice guy; besides, he had once had a thing for Kimmie.

I visited Jordan in his hospital room right after I heard about the accident. I didn’t even know that Kimmie was dead yet. Jordan was devastated. He didn’t need to have his friend’s condition confirmed; he knew. He told me how he had gotten cut off on that dark and winding road. The car rolled down the embankment and came to rest against a tree. There were no witnesses; just a minor paint scrape on the front fender and the police said that could have happened at any time prior to the accident.

Kimmie kept unbuckling her seatbelt and then she would laugh; Jordan kept telling her to put the seatbelt back on. He was tired of her arguing so this time he had been slow. When he looked at her after the car stopped moving, he knew that she was broken. The bone to one upper arm protruded through the skin and fragments of the bone in the lower arm gave her a limp rag doll effect. Her beautiful face was cut up from the windshield glass. He wanted to pull her from the car, but even though he had been belted in, he hit his head on something and was bleeding from the temple. And then he passed out. But he knew, from what he had seen, Kimmie was gone.