I love writing but I need all the practice I can get. I’m publishing bits and pieces from writing prompts I get from here and there. These are not full stories and probably never will be but I use this to get the inspiration going!
Writing Prompt #2
His eyes were cold and lifeless as he stared at me.
“You have no idea who I am, do you?”
“Well, who are you?”
“I’m going to let you figure that out.”
I didn’t have time to be confused. His twisted smile kept me too cold and focused on his every move.
My stomach turned as he stepped over the threshold of my doorway.
“Listen, I really have no idea who you are.” The stranger didn’t seem convinced, “I was in an accident about a year ago and I’ve lost most of my memory. I don’t remember anything before I was 24. Who are you?”
I felt his eyes looking me up and down. Clearly trying to decide if he believed me or not.
“Nothing at all?”
“That could be a good thing.” He said with a devilish grin as he tried to close this distance between us.
I felt my face tense as I stumbled a few inches away.
“You don’t remember anything I’ve done to you? Or that you did to me?”
“What did I do to you?”
He smiled again.
“Don’t worry about it. Doesn’t seem to matter anymore. As far as we need be concerned, you are the person you were right before I met you. I miss that girl.”
“I met you when you were 24, and if you don’t recognize me your memory couldn’t have taken you too far before that day.”
“The day I first laid eyes on you.”
I couldn’t listen to him anymore.
“Please leave or I’ll call the police.”
“Wouldn’t be the first time.” He laughed, taking another step in my direction.
He stopped moving towards me.
“You’re serious, aren’t you? You don’t remember anything.”
I shook my head.
My face felt hot as I felt my eyes begin to water, “No, please just go. I don’t know who you are and I want you to leave. Now!”
His eyes cut at me and the corner of his lip turned up in disgust.
“Fine, I’ll go. But this conversation isn’t over Noelle.”
He called me by my middle name. I had no memory of this man but he knew my middle name.
He turned his back towards me and walked out the door.
The space in front of me felt empty.
I stepped forward only to feel the heat he’d left in the place he had occupied.
Closing the door carefully, I locked it.
Standing there alone I didn’t know what I hated more. The fact that this strange man knew more about me than I did about him.
Or that he brought about a feeling within me. One that I couldn’t place. One that I had felt before.