Gemma Steals My Man (first draft)

Gemma Steals My Man (first draft)

A Story by Gary H
"

Daisy hears the gossip after everyone else and sets out to end everything.....

"

Soft breezes blew into the room fragmented by airfreshner smells of strawberries and peaches. A quiet night was passing, Daisy sleeping soundly until 3.00am when her ears slowly became aware of a commotion outside. Unwrapping herself from the goose feather duvet in an attempt to climb from her bed she was suddenly overcome with guilt.

 

Questions gradually formed in her mind about whether geese are bald for the rest of their lives after having their bodies raped of their natural covering. She wondered if they froze in winter or how they flew, if geese flew at all.

 

Daisy pulled up her bedsocks to just over her knees, also adjusting her nightdress that had somehow ended up around her b***s instead of meeting at her socks. Now she covered all of her pink fleshy bits. Her arms though were uncovered and she looked at them wondering if her little hairs could ever fill a duvet. This made her shiver and wonder what was going on in her befuddled mind.

 

'What's wrong with me?' she said to no-one but herself and wasn't even sure if she was listening.

 

Then somewhere inside her she felt a whoosing sound. Quickly her hands raced up and down her body until she realised that a hot water bottle was still connected in her nightdress and had slipped down. The sound and feel of the water made her feel uncomfortable. Daisy had a feeling that being awake at this time of the morning was not a good thing. Also, where was Big Ted?

 

A greeny grey alarm clock glowed red numbers on her bedside table, trying to break into a growl complaining that she was up and about before she should be. The clock knew the job that it was supposed to do and now felt worthless. Daisy, meanwhile, searched for her slippers, one found it's way onto the wrong foot, the other foot found a training shoe. Slowly she staggered towards the bedroom window, past her dressing table where make-up lay mixed with hairburshes, scissors, nail files and an assortment of bangles. An almost empty glass caught her attention for a second before her feet almost gave way due to a slippery pair of gothic black tights that slid her along on the floor.

Daisy threw aside the curtains as her head wacked against the slightly open window. Slightly dazed, gradually her eyes adjusted to the dark outside. For a minute or two there was nothing but silence. Daisy began to feel sleepy again and try to reconnect with her dreams. However a smell re-animated her. Around the sill of the window lay garlic that had been disturbed by Daisy's brief encounter. Those vampires were never going to get her.

 

George Clooney had started the garlic obsession. He had appeared in a film, 'From Dusk 'till Dawn' and if he was in a film, Daisy had to watch it, although she was frightened by the creatures chasing her heartthrob's blood.

 

'Crash!' - the voice of the dustbin lids in a nearby garden had spoken.

 

Immediately Daisy's attention was taken back to whatever was happening outside. Her eyes tried to fix themselves forwards....onto a face. The eyes seemed so familiar, the curves of the cheeks surely belonged to.......the lips blurted out 'OMG' as she felt her insides turn over and over. Shocked, Daisy stepped back realising she had been staring at her own reflection. At least this was relief as having a reflection meant she had not been taken yet.

 

Two cats were fighting and clearly not following the correct rules of engagement. Whilst Daisy still could not spot them she could hear their screams and rabid cries filling the neighbourhoods gardens. Feeling annoyed that she could do nothing about the noise, at she made her way back to her bed. Not being sure if sleep would now come to her, Daisy lay and looked at the ceiling above following the lines of the cracks leading to and from the lightbulb in the middle. Slowly she became lost in another world, forgetting about the cats until there was a another crash. This time it was her own front door, followed by swearing and keys falling to the floor.

 

Forgetting the cats and her earlier bizarre thoughts of her duvet, Daisy tried to work out what was happening. She recalled the bottle of red wine demolished earlier. Then added to this were the sleeping pills. Surely she should not have woken up, afterall, that had been the idea. Unfortunately the memories had still not passed. Having said all this, Daisy was impressed with herself, having been almost comatose yet still getting into bed along with her hot water bottle to cuddle.

 

Daisy's flash-backs recovered some of the happenings of the previous day. First of all there was the shopping trip. She vividly recalled two underage lads who tried to convince her she looked stunning in an attempt to get her to buy them alcohol. Her reply had been if they really thought she was stunning then they must have already been drunk. After this she produced an intense scary scream and started crying which prompted the kids to run off home to their mums. Daisy wondered if she had been wearing her pyjamas when she had gone out.....

 

The corner shop marvelled in it's listing of wines to drink with food. Daisy though wanted something rough and to go with drugs, not for white meat, red meat or fish. And thinking about those poor fishy wishys, swimming around, caught, unable to breathe, cut open with their guts removed, fried or grilled, ending up on a plate with a chablis.....she felt ill at the thought. Then finally Daisy spotted the bottle for her - 1.5 litres of 'RED WINE MADE IN EUROPE', not that she had a particular aversion to wine made in any other part of the world, but this one was cheap.

 

Sleeping pills? Well, Daisy had these from some time back. She had been having what Daisy termed as 'lady problems' that the doctor failed to significantly recognise. After her fifth consecutive daily visit he prescribed them with a repeat presciption of something to make her relax, hoping that this would mean she wouldn't need to come back to see him.

 

Think, think - Daisy had been at work earlier that day. She had been happy or as happy as work allows you to be. Countless cups of coffee had passed between her lips and her mug had more lipstick than she had on. Telephone calls, typing, more telephone calls, a quick trip to the toilet, some gossip........THE GOSSIP.......Daisy gradually recalled what was going on. Breakfast time came to her thoughts and even though this was a little sketchy, she recalled more coffee, two slices of toast with honey or was it jam? Oh, all this was finished by a kiss. That was the start.

 

Up until that recollection Daisy had been calm. But now she was very much aware of the kiss from the f*****g b*****d arsehole who was making himself comfortable on the couch downstairs in her house. Not only that but the b*****d had got his own key cut without even telling her. And he was watching TV. She could hear the strains of the nature programme that he had taken a fancy to and always watched on repeat when he had consumed a few too many drinks. For some reason he had become fascinated with owls to the extent that he wanted to have sex with one for the simple reason that no matter what angle chosen, the owl would always be looking at you. F*****g sick b*****d!

 

The subject of sex connected Daisy back to THE GOSSIP. She had found to her amazement that everyone knew except for her that her own boyfriend was shagging Gemma - the b***h from accounts. Whilst accepting Gemma had bigger breasts, more shapely legs and a positively cute face, Daisy couldn't understand what the fuss was all about. Daisy had personality and could hold conversations on a whole variety of subjects from obscure sports like football to political issues involving gardening - if there were any. She was also better at cuddling although she had never seen Gemma in action she knew this was true. Wasn't this what men wanted? All Gemma wanted and was always going to get was sex. Daisy thought, no, in fact, Daisy didn't think much about this at all. All she said was 'UGH!'

 

Now Daisy had not thrown her boyfriend out. Instead she decided to kill herself by forcing as many sleeping pills and as much red wine into her body as possible. This was a better way of showing him what he was missing or at least so she assumed. Obviously, sadly, she had not been successful. Now, she needed another plan.

 

The TV had gone silent and she heard rude noises coming. 'UGH!' Then everything became still. Her first thought was to carry his lifeless body to a car and fit it in the trunk. It should be quite compact. Then she saw herself driving to the clifftops and up and over, down, down into the deepening sea. A problem with this was her inability to drive.

 

If only George Clooney was here to save her. She was sure he could drive and wouldn't have fantasies about Owls and screw Gemma from accounts without telling Daisy first. At least if the boyfriend had told her she could say to him 'F**K OFF' but now she knew that she would get all tearful and he would say to her that he couldn't be with someone who was unable to control their emotions and it would be all her fault. 'UGH!'

 

Daisy continued to stare at the ceiling where all roads continued to lead to Rome or the lightbulb in the middle. Suddenly a light went on in her own mind. Slowly Daisy was metamorphasising an idea. Once again she found herself out of bed, the alarm clock being once more distraught that it wasn't destined to wake her up. Going over to her dressing table she found the glass and looked at the dregs. This was just what she needed, oh, and some make-up...... then Daisy took her scissors and went quietly down the stairs.

 

She saw him fast asleep on the settee. Her faced curled in disgust as she collected his keys and opened the front door. Hoping the air wouldn't wake him, Daisy made her way into the room where his body lay. She was almost above him. He was literally dead to the world.

 

Suddenly his head turned and startled her but luckily his eyes remained closed. There was just a gurgle almost causing Daisy to drop the scissors but she regained her control of the situation and knelt down before him. Two pricks of his skin and he would be looking into her eyes for the last time.....

 

'What the f.....? Owww, that hurt. S**t, whats wrong with you? You've made me bleed.......Oh god, you've become a vampire.......arhhhhhhhhhhhh!'

 

Daisy watched as that piece of s**t, once a boyfriend, now lost in deceit, left her life forever and tumbled out of the door. Switching on the downstairs lights, she went over to the full length mirror at the bottom of the stair case. OK in comparison to Gemma, Daisy's legs could do with a few miles of jogging, maybe her stomach a little less drinking, her breasts, well, she liked them......then she looked at her face. Coloured white with big thick black markings around her eyes, she had to admit she looked a bit weird. Then there was the smudged red lipstick and the red wine drip down her lips and chin. Well, this look wasn't so bad, maybe she did prefer the night to day?

 

Daisy smiled as she closed her front door and disappeared up to bed again. She could still hear the cats fighting and was sure in the far away distance there was someone screaming -

 

'That mad b***h bit me!'

 

 

 

 

 

 


© 2008 Gary H



Author's Note

Gary H
This is possibly the last Daisy story and is part of a clearing out of work before I start my Open University course.

My Review

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Featured Review

Really fluent writing style. Your character needs a little more depth but what you've got is great. I am also a student and work on my new book in my free time. Writerscafe.org are the first to see my new stuff! You are similar to me with your descriptive narrative and the exclamatories made me chuckle.

Posted 5 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.




Reviews

i am a vampire lover .. the myth you know .. this is well written and it grabbed me and i was reading with great interest.. such a good story .. kind of funny last line .. 'that mad b***h bit me'.. i can picture it!

Chloe
xoxo

Posted 9 Years Ago


2 of 2 people found this review constructive.

You get a review because this story interested me. I find that as a writer myself, its really hard to find errors in your own writing while in others writing, the pitfalls are much more obvious. Ive taken a couple writers courses and have read dozens of books, and so Im going to review your work based solely on what I have learned. I copy and pasted, but made some revisions. You will notice that its slightly differant, and my comments are in capital letters. Hope I can help. Loved your ideas.




Soft breezes blew into the room fragmented by airfreshner smells of strawberries and peaches. A quiet night was passing. Daisy was sleeping soundly until 3.00am, when her ears slowly became aware of a commotion outside. Unwrapping herself from the goose feather duvet in an attempt to climb from her bed, she was suddenly overcome with guilt.



THIS PARAGRAPH TAKE AWAY FROM THE SUSPENSE, NO MATTER HOW CREATIVE IT MAY SOUND
Questions gradually formed in her mind about whether geese are bald for the rest of their lives after having their bodies raped of their natural covering. She wondered if they froze in winter or how they flew, if geese flew at all.



Daisy pulled up her bedsocks to just over her knees, also adjusting her nightdress that had somehow ended up around her BREASTS (narrative should not contain slang) instead of meeting at her socks. Now she covered all of her pink fleshy bits. Her arms though were uncovered and she looked at them wondering if her little hairs could ever fill a duvet. This made her shiver and wonder what was going on in her befuddled mind.



'What's wrong with me?' she said to no-one but herself and wasn't even sure if she was listening.



Then somewhere inside her she felt a whoosing sound. Quickly her hands raced up and down her body until she realised that a hot water bottle was still connected in her nightdress and had slipped down. The sound and feel of the water made her feel uncomfortable. Being awake at this time of the morning was not a good thing. Also, where was Big Ted?



An alarm clock glowed red numbers on her bedside table, trying to break into a growl complaining that she was up and about before she should be. The clock knew the job that it was supposed to do and now felt worthless. I DIDNT FULLY GRASP WHAT YOU WERE TRYING TO SAY IN THE SENTENCE ABOVE. ALARM CLOCKS DONT EVER COME CLOSE TO GROWLING.

Daisy, meanwhile, searched for her slippers, one found it's way onto the wrong foot, the other foot found a training shoe. Slowly she staggered towards the bedroom window, past her dressing table where make-up lay mixed with hairburshes, scissors, nail files and an assortment of bangles. An almost empty glass caught her attention. A SECOND LATER, her feet (almost) ELIMINATE THE WORDS ALMOST, NEARLY, BARELY AS MUCH AS POSSIBLE) gave way due to a slippery pair of gothic black tights that slid her along on the floor.

Daisy threw aside the curtains as her head wacked against the slightly open window. Slightly dazed,
her eyes adjusted to the dark outside. THERE WAS NOTHING BUT SILENCE. SHE began to feel sleepy again and trIED to reconnect with her dreams.

However, a smell re-animated her. Around the sill of the window lay garlic that had been disturbed by Daisy's brief encounter. *fRAGMENT* Those vampires were never going to get her.


BRINGING GEORGE CLOONEY TAKES AWAY FROM THE FANTASY MOOD.
George Clooney had started the garlic obsession. He had appeared in a film, 'From Dusk 'till Dawn' and if he was in a film, Daisy had to watch it, although she was frightened by the creatures chasing her heartthrob's blood.



'Crash!' - the voice of the dustbin lids in a nearby garden had spoken.



Immediately Daisy's attention was taken back to was happening outside. Her eyes tried to fix themselves forward....onto a face. The eyes seemed so familiar, the curves of the cheeks surely belonged to.......the lips blurted out 'OMG' NO SLANG OR ABBREVIATIONS IN A NARRATIVE as she felt her insides turn over.
Shocked, Daisy stepped back, realising she had been staring at her own reflection. At least this was relief as having a reflection meant she had not been taken yet.


Two cats started fighting outside. While Daisy still could not spot them she could hear their screams and rabid cries filling the neighbourhoods gardens. Feeling annoyed that she could do nothing about the noise, at she made her way back to her bed. Not being sure if sleep would now come to her, Daisy lay and looked at the ceiling above following the lines of the cracks leading to and from the lightbulb in the middle. Slowly she became lost in another world, forgetting about the cats until there was a another crash. This time it was her own front door, followed by swearing and keys falling to the floor.



Forgetting the cats and her earlier bizarre thoughts of her duvet, IM NOT SURE IF YOU SHOULD PUT A FLASHBACK HERE BECAUSE THE RULES OF SUSPENSE ARE SHOW, DONT TELL. IM POSITIVE YOU COULD MAKE AN INTERESTING SCENE WITH DIALOGUE AND ACTIONS IN THIS FLASHBACK



Daisy tried to work out what was happening. She recalled the bottle of red wine demolished earlier. Then added to this were the sleeping pills. Surely she should not have woken up, afterall, that had been the idea. Unfortunately the memories had still not passed. Having said all this, Daisy was impressed with herself, having been almost comatose yet still getting into bed along with her hot water bottle to cuddle.



Daisy's flash-backs recovered some of the happenings of the previous day. First of all there was the shopping trip. She vividly recalled two underage lads who tried to convince her she looked stunning in an attempt to get her to buy them alcohol. Her reply had been if they really thought she was stunning then they must have already been drunk. After this she produced an intense scary scream and started crying which prompted the kids to run off home to their mums. Daisy wondered if she had been wearing her pyjamas when she had gone out.....



The corner shop marvelled in it's listing of wines to drink with food. Daisy though wanted something rough and to go with drugs, not for white meat, red meat or fish. And thinking about those poor fishy wishys, swimming around, caught, unable to breathe, cut open with their guts removed, fried or grilled, ending up on a plate with a chablis.....she felt ill at the thought. Then finally Daisy spotted the bottle for her - 1.5 litres of 'RED WINE MADE IN EUROPE', not that she had a particular aversion to wine made in any other part of the world, but this one was cheap.



Sleeping pills? Well, Daisy had these from some time back. She had been having what Daisy termed as 'lady problems' that the doctor failed to significantly recognise. After her fifth consecutive daily visit he prescribed them with a repeat presciption of something to make her relax, hoping that this would mean she wouldn't need to come back to see him.



Think, think - Daisy had been at work earlier that day. She had been happy or as happy as work allows you to be. Countless cups of coffee had passed between her lips and her mug had more lipstick than she had on. Telephone calls, typing, more telephone calls, a quick trip to the toilet, some gossip........THE GOSSIP.......Daisy gradually recalled what was going on. Breakfast time came to her thoughts and even though this was a little sketchy, she recalled more coffee, two slices of toast with honey or was it jam? Oh, all this was finished by a kiss. That was the start.



Up until that recollection Daisy had been calm. But now she was very much aware of the kiss from the f*****g b*****d arsehole who was making himself comfortable on the couch downstairs in her house. Not only that but the b*****d had got his own key cut without even telling her. And he was watching TV. She could hear the strains of the nature programme that he had taken a fancy to and always watched on repeat when he had consumed a few too many drinks. For some reason he had become fascinated with owls to the extent that he wanted to have sex with one for the simple reason that no matter what angle chosen, the owl would always be looking at you. F*****g sick b*****d!



The subject of sex connected Daisy back to THE GOSSIP. She had found to her amazement that everyone knew except for her that her own boyfriend was shagging Gemma - the b***h from accounts. Whilst accepting Gemma had bigger breasts, more shapely legs and a positively cute face, Daisy couldn't understand what the fuss was all about. Daisy had personality and could hold conversations on a whole variety of subjects from obscure sports like football to political issues involving gardening - if there were any. She was also better at cuddling although she had never seen Gemma in action she knew this was true. Wasn't this what men wanted? All Gemma wanted and was always going to get was sex. Daisy thought, no, in fact, Daisy didn't think much about this at all. All she said was 'UGH!'



Now Daisy had not thrown her boyfriend out. Instead she decided to kill herself by forcing as many sleeping pills and as much red wine into her body as possible. This was a better way of showing him what he was missing or at least so she assumed. Obviously, sadly, she had not been successful. Now, she needed another plan.



The TV had gone silent and she heard rude noises coming. 'UGH!' Then everything became still. Her first thought was to carry his lifeless body to a car and fit it in the trunk. It should be quite compact. Then she saw herself driving to the clifftops and up and over, down, down into the deepening sea. A problem with this was her inability to drive.



If only George Clooney was here to save her. She was sure he could drive and wouldn't have fantasies about Owls and screw Gemma from accounts without telling Daisy first. At least if the boyfriend had told her she could say to him 'F**K OFF' NO SLANG IN NARRATIVE, BECAUSE YOU WANT YOUR OWN VOICE TO BE RESPECTABLE. In DIALOGUE, HOWEVER, ITS OK but now she knew that she would get all tearful and he would say to her that he couldn't be with someone who was unable to control their emotions and it would be all her fault. 'UGH!'



Daisy continued to stare at the ceiling where all roads continued to lead to Rome or the lightbulb in the middle. Suddenly a light went on in her own mind. Slowly Daisy was metamorphasising an idea. Once again she found herself out of bed, the alarm clock being once more distraught that it wasn't destined to wake her up. Going over to her dressing table she found the glass and looked at the dregs. This was just what she needed, oh, and some make-up...... then Daisy took her scissors and went quietly down the stairs.



She saw him fast asleep on the settee. Her faced curled in disgust as she collected his keys and opened the front door. Hoping the air wouldn't wake him, Daisy made her way into the room where his body lay. She was almost above him. He was literally dead to the world.



Suddenly his head turned and startled her but luckily his eyes remained closed. There was just a gurgle almost causing Daisy to drop the scissors but she regained her control of the situation and knelt down before him. Two pricks of his skin and he would be looking into her eyes for the last time.....


THIS DIALOGUE NEEDS TO BE WORKED ON, IT MIGHT SOUND OK IN A MOVIE SCRIPT BUT IT DOESNT WORK IN NOVEL FORM
'What the f.....? Owww, that hurt. S**t, whats wrong with you? You've made me bleed.......Oh god, you've become a vampire.......arhhhhhhhhhhhh!'



Daisy watched as that piece of s**t, once a boyfriend, now lost in deceit, left her life forever and tumbled out of the door. Switching on the downstairs lights, she went over to the full length mirror at the bottom of the stair case. OK in comparison to Gemma, Daisy's legs could do with a few miles of jogging, maybe her stomach a little less drinking, her breasts, well, she liked them......then she looked at her face. Coloured white with big thick black markings around her eyes, she had to admit she looked a bit weird. Then there was the smudged red lipstick and the red wine drip down her lips and chin. Well, this look wasn't so bad, maybe she did prefer the night to day?



Daisy smiled as she closed her front door and disappeared up to bed again. She could still hear the cats fighting and was sure in the far away distance there was someone screaming -



'That mad b***h bit me!' ONCE AGAIN, SLANG IS OK IN DIALOGUE


Posted 9 Years Ago


2 of 3 people found this review constructive.

LoL, oh man! Truly a great read here, Gary! U did very well in the descriptions of the scene, and u kept me on the edge of my seat here hehe. Man, what a woman lol! Cant wait to read the next chapter!

B.A.

Posted 9 Years Ago


2 of 2 people found this review constructive.

This is a bit different from what I've read of your work, but I liked it.
I liked that Daisy is an anti-hero, not the good-looking, fabulous hero - but a regular person like everyone else.

Well done and good luck with the university courses.

Posted 9 Years Ago


2 of 2 people found this review constructive.

Actually I really liked it!!!!

To start off I did think it was a little over descriptive when just one or two plain words would work better..... but I am glad I stuck at it because this became quiet personal to me..... I KNOW, FREAK HUH!

To explain:

1) My ex (who I describe as my Demon) drove me to attempting suicide, in the very same fashion, from his abusing ways. What people don't realise is that alcohol slows the absorbtion of pills into your bloody, so more often than not people survive this act.
2) I am an huge Anne Rice fan, and of course she is well know for her Vampyre novels.
3) And last but not least, I love the idea of harmless revenge..... oh he will shout and scream a little but really no damage has been done, and she can wear a secret smile and have a little bit of closure.

So there you go, I liked it and am also grateful that your portrayal of Daisy stopped being such a wuss and took charge of her problems/life.

Mx

Posted 9 Years Ago


2 of 2 people found this review constructive.

Hello Gary,
Well, I'm not really a vampire fan but d'you know, I really enjoyed this - especially as it was a slob who was incised, not a beautiful young maiden. Nice writing, well put together and done with care.
What are you going for at OU. I am a graduate (Art History and Adult Education. Changed my life.) All the best for it anyway.
John

Posted 9 Years Ago


2 of 3 people found this review constructive.


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Added on September 8, 2008
Last Updated on September 8, 2008

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Gary H
Gary H

nowhere, United Kingdom



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