Saturday, February 18, 2012

The Sins of His Past

The Sins of His Past
By Lisa McCourt Hollar

Frank Lombardo fingered the gun hidden deep in the pocket of his coat. The wind howled and he heard Belinda’s voice whispering to him from the boardwalk.
It was just his imagination. There was no one at the fairgrounds besides himself and the ghosts that haunted his dreams. The place had long been abandoned, ever since the fire he had been responsible for, all those years ago.
“It’s your fault,” Belinda said, accusing him from the grave.
“I’m sorry,” Frank sobbed. “I didn’t mean it. I loved you.”
“If you loved me, you wouldn’t have killed me. You wouldn’t have killed us. You were jealous!”
The faces of those that had worked for him flashed before his eyes. The fairgrounds had been the permanent location of his circus. It had been Valentine’s Day. Belinda had been so lovely in her red dress. He’d stopped to see her, before she went on.
The screams of those trapped inside the gates echoed down the boardwalk. Were they coming for him at long last?
“Join me.” Belinda whispered, caressing his ear with her voice.
 Frank fingered the gun again. He had thought of ending his life every Valentine’s Day for the last ten years.”
“Join us.”
He turned to leave and they were behind him, Belinda in her red dress and Rowan in his tuxedo. They were the perfect pair. Twins, conjoined together. He loved her, but hated Rowan, because Rowan was closer to Belinda than he ever would be.
“I didn’t want you to die.”
“Just my brother,” she said, her eyes sad.
“I thought if I could burn him off of you…”
The idea had been insane. She had screamed when he doused one half of her in gasoline.  Now Frank screamed, his gun holding no protection against his sins.
 Word Count: 300

1 comment:

  1. I think even if I'd stayed on top of my reading and read each of these in their proper week I'd still end up with "wow" as my comment for each one.

    You take your stories around twists and into shadows that I don't see coming--maybe it's lack of familiarity with the genre but it feels like brilliance in your writing. Loving a conjoined twin but trying to burn off the other only to be haunted by both... I don't know what to say, but I won't forget reading it for a long time.