Twisted By The Pool (488 hits)
Category: NoneLabels: Fiction
Rating: 0.77 on 12 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by kaos-king (antius777) (View user info) at 2006-05-03 08:01:17 EDT
This was a contest entry on another site based on the title...
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She watched from the patio window.
Water spilled off of Diane in rivulets, beads of the clearest liquid rolling across tan skin. She pulled herself out of the pool, taunt muscles flexing along her lithe form. Diane stood at the edge of the water and reached around, running a small hand tightly through her thick dark hair. The excess moisture released, splashing about her feet, she gracefully stepped over to her lounge chair and retrieved her towel.
She adjusted the skimpy bottoms of her bikini as she dried herself off, humming an old tune by The Who. Diane's figure was accented by the cut of the maroon bathing suit, her twenty-seven year old body looking even more perfect. She ran the pale blue towel across her head vigorously, the black curls wrestling each other. The piece of wet fabric discarded, she picked up her brush and pulled any stray kinks out. Sunglasses perched on her nose, she lie back on the lounge chair beside the pool and smiled.
She watched Diane from the patio window.
Since her childhood in northern Greece, Diane had always longed to visit the United States. Such wonders and spectacles she had heard about the country during her youth. Never would she have thought she would have ended up living here, the beloved wife of a wealthy American involved in great things. She had met him while he had been on business in the Mediterranean, she had been working for the antique dealer that he had come to make purchases from. David had swept her off her feet and taken her back to his country.
She knew how others looked at her. She was twenty years younger than her David, and many would consider her nothing but a "Trophy Wife." Diane did everything to discourage those kinds of notions. Even though they had a maid and a cook, she insisted on helping with the household duties and single-handedly preparing at least one meal for the family a week. The Family. She had so wanted to give David a child of their own, but it seemed not to be.
She watched Diane from the patio window with a glass of lemonade.
Diane was a stepmother to two wonderful children. Daniel was sixteen and away at boarding school. They didn't see the boy too often, but when they did, Diane did her best to be in his good graces. That fact that she had beat him at HALO 2 had helped her earn his respect. Rachel, on the other hand, was a bit more of a problem. The troubled thirteen year old had already been "Asked" to leave three different prestigious schools in the last four years. Diane had tried desperately to connect with the young girl, in a mothering way then as an older sister-type. Neither seemed to entertain Rachel.
Diane closed her eyes behind the sunglasses and sighed. She knew Americans put quite a good deal of faith into their psychiatric medicine. She would never have thought much about it, but quite honestly, in the last few weeks Rachel had come to start to frighten the young Greek. Diane had mentioned to David that perhaps Rachel should see a therapist or some kind of counciling, but her husband had bristled at the notion. His daughter was perfectly fine, she was just going through a "Phase."
She stepped out on to the patio with the glass of lemonade.
It had started out innocently enough, once Rachel had returned the last time from her final school. She would have to wait a few months before the next semester to transfer, so tutors were brought in to keep up her school work. Everything had been fine until the day her English Professor had ran from the mansion sobbing. The poor women wouldn't respond to any of Diane's questions as she followed the Professor out, nor were any calls returned. Then various objects starting to turn up missing around the house. Eventually, a whole set of kitchen knives vanished. Fearing for Rachel's safety, Diane checked her step-daughter's room and found three of the missing utensils.
When confronted about the knives, Rachel just gave Diane and her father a blank stare. Diane didn't know which to be more concerned about - that fact that they had found Rachel in possession of three of the knives, or the fact that they still couldn't find the rest of them. Shortly after that, the mumbling had began. Rachel had taken to talking to herself when she thought no one was paying any attention to her. In the last few days, since her father had left on business, it had increased to almost a constant murmur. Diane wasn't sure what to do about the poor girl other than...
"Hi Diane."
The young wife about let out a shriek. Rachel stood only a few feet away from her, smiling pleasantly. The girl was rail thin, almost painfully so. Her straw blond hair, a trait the girl had inherited from her deceased mother, hung long and poker straight. With the exception of the large, dark brown eyes, no one would ever mistake Diane and Rachel as related.
Without really thinking, Diane wrapped the damp towel around her mostly naked body. Even though she and Rachel were not close, and her step-daughter was thirteen, Rachel showed no great signs of physical maturity. Puberty had not blessed her well yet. Sometimes Diane wondered if that was the source of Rachel's subtle hostility.
"It's really hot out here, so I brought you some lemonade," said the youngster without emotion.
Diane looked at the glass of yellow liquid, cold with ice cubes, filled almost to the brim and beginning to perspire with condensation. Rachel could as well have been holding one of those missing kitchen knives at her, point first. Diane was suddenly filled with an unease, an unexplainable dread. Free from the confines of logic and rational thought, this small, fair-haired youngster was actually a monster plotting to...
My God in Heaven.
"Thank you, dear," said Diane smiling. "I am quite thirsty."
Madness, thought Diane as she took a long drink from the glass. This darling child is still coming to terms with another woman in the house, getting over her own mother's death! How could I think such horrid thoughts of a...
There was a bitterness beneath the sour.
There was a wrenching in her gut.
Diane tried to stand up, made in a single step, and fell to the rough stone patio. She fell hard and had enough thought still to hear the sound of her wrist breaking in the collapse. A part of her told her she had badly skinned her knee and elbows. None of this mattered. Nothing mattered compared to the pain in her stomach, a pain that was rushing up to her lungs.
She began to seize and twist about on the ground, blood spilling from her mouth as she choked, drowning in her own fluids. Diane's head banged against the the concrete twice and things turned white, then started into black. She managed to crane her neck for a glimpse of Rachel.
"Just enough rat poison," said the thirteen year old, holding up one of the missing kitchen knives, "Just like mommy said."
User Reviews
Submitted by Maltese (user info) at 2006-12-06 17:28:28 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
+2 to bump up your rating. COME ON EVERYONE, WHO'S WITH ME!?
Submitted by Silver_Stone (user info) at 2006-05-05 00:45:07 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by Stagger_Lee (user info) at 2006-05-04 10:57:26 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
In answer to your request for some better feedback on here, I don't know. ghola can tell you that I'm shit with actual criticism, I'm like one of those stupid, rich cliched guys in movies that say "I know what I like".
Here goes, though: I didn't connect with any of the characters, and therefore didn't give a shit when anything happened to them. It was well written (all your stuff is) but the story wasn't particularly strong and the characters didn't work for me.
Submitted by Beano312003 (user info) at 2006-05-04 07:59:27 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Difficult...... fairly predictable, not good not bad...a really solid 0.
Sorry, doesn't help much.
Submitted by kaos-king (user info) at 2006-05-04 06:54:13 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Wow, you guys are rough today...
I had a few days to write it, but I ripped it out within minutes after the contest went up.
I guess you can tell.
Submitted by sparkle_pink (user info) at 2006-05-04 01:57:53 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Well I liked it.
Submitted by Average_Dan (user info) at 2006-05-04 01:25:23 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
How long did you have to write this?
Submitted by CaptainThorns (user info) at 2006-05-03 11:11:52 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Not bad for a short story, but the ending is wanting of more.
Submitted by Circe (user info) at 2006-05-03 08:57:27 EDT (#)
Ranking: -1
I'm really sorry, but that was awful. It's a world away from what you usually write. I'm not saying it's just different in content - there's nothing wrong with doing something different now and then - but the style of it, the way it's written.... absolutely dreadful.
Submitted by shadow (user info) at 2006-05-03 08:43:34 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
could been more fleshed out, more detail but it was good
Submitted by shadow (user info) at 2006-05-03 08:42:51 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
ewwww
Submitted by Stagger_Lee (user info) at 2006-05-03 08:37:50 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Pretty meh, right here. Didn't really care when anything happened.