Shadow On the Eyes
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Shadow On the Eyes

By: Natashia_Lou Updated just now

Language: English
18

Chapters: 10 views: 30

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Watching his wife and daughter die in front of his eyes in a major car accident, writer Sam Lake hasn't written a best seller since. But, with the urging of his editor/publisher, he visits a remote town hoping to buy a place to re-coup and start writing again. Still fighting through the nightmares of the accident and feeling like he's losing his mind, Sam hopes Sunny Field might be the place to start over. Or, it could be the place where it all begins.

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Latest Chapter
10 chapters
Since The Last Dream
“Chrissy, look at daddy baby, look at me. Just hold on, stay with me.” I watched her cry over the sound of wind beating at us with the rain, she yelled for her mommy, and I felt helpless, “Mommy is tired, don’t look back, just look, look at daddy. Just hold on sweetheart, help is coming. Chrissy, Chrissy! Don’t close your eyes! Look at me! Chrissy!” When her eyes wouldn’t open, I felt my scream of anguish and desperation, watching her and her mother not move, covered in blood. I wanted to die with them. I begged for death to take me, too, he had ripped away my purpose for living, but somehow, I would always wake up before he could. I sat up, wiping the cold, clammy sweat from my forehead. Once again, the same dream invaded my mind. It had been months since the last one. The alarm on my phone went off, and I checked the time. It was still early, only 6:45 am. Setting it back on the nightstand of the hotel room, I went to the bathroom. Using the cold water to wash away the remna
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Sunny Motel
I hung up the phone. I knew Eric didn’t realize Sunnyfield was more on the west side of the state, with nothing but farmland and no oceanfront access. So, I didn’t tell him and figured he could find out on his own. I needed coffee badly. My hands were almost shaking from withdrawal, like an alcoholic’s. But I’m not a drinker and never have been. Sure, I could appreciate a cold one on a hot day, but coffee was my drug of choice. The cheap little coffee maker had baggies of condiments and coffee. So, I decided to try using that finally. Damn, decaf in one and just the leftover straw and unused sugar in the other. “Shitty hotel,” I complained out loud, but no one was listening. The thump almost spooked me from the floor above me. There was screaming and yelling that I heard coming from somewhere yesterday after I checked in, but the rooms around me were quiet most of the night. Another loud thump, and some douchebag started yelling this time. I decided it was necessary to head out an
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Dimmed Light
I opened it so she could go in first. As she passed me slowly, the smell reminded me of my late aunt’s home, cigarettes, and baby powder. The putrid smell made me gag inwards. While I looked around, she hobbled around the other side of the long linoleum-covered desk. It was a small lobby with only two plastic Adirondack chairs serving as seating. They sat next to a small brochure and advertisement holder. However, I did notice a makeshift crate table holding a coffee maker and small cups. It’s the small things, like coffee, that I struggle with to make me happy anymore. “One bed or two?” “I, uh, actually have a reservation. It should be under Samuel Lake.” Looking towards me with one eye, she made a deep sound in her throat. I wasn’t sure if she was about to cough or she scoffed at the word reservation, being the MOTEL was a dive. She flipped through a ringed binder and looked down her nose at what was written. Not saying a word, she pulled open a drawer next to her and took o
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New In Town
Getting back in bed, I didn’t turn the lamp on and only faced it to keep the bathroom door at my back. So again, I lay there, wondering if something else was going to happen to disturb my attempt at sleep, but nothing did. I didn’t dream, lucky me, but I woke to a chaos of noise. Somehow, I had managed to roll to the other side of the bed on top of the remote and turn the volume up on the TV, full blast. The preacher man’s voice spouting the same religious tirade from the night before was screaming at me while my phone was ringing. I got up and hit the power button for the tv as I answered the phone, “Yes, what?” “Oh, Mr. Lake, did I catch you at a bad time? It’s Sara from Dirt and Shore reality again. I wanted to make sure you made it to town just fine and confirm our appointment for tomorrow. 10?” My head was pounding, but I didn’t see any point in ruining her mood, “Sure, yes, 10 o’clock.” “Fantastic! I have the room booked for two nights so that you can rest comfortably till
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The House
“No, I’m not. How’d you know?” I wondered why a kid his age wasn’t in school or maybe doing the whole college thing. Since he talked first, it would give me an opening at some point to ask. He held up my pack of gum before scanning it, “Most of the men round here are farmers. They smoke or drink. You bought bubblefun gum.” I nodded, and his grin grew wider as if he’d discovered an alien mothership in the sky. “18.43, please.” I handed him the 20 I had shoved in my pocket earlier, “Hey, shouldn’t you be at school,” his hand froze as he grabbed the 20 from mine, “I mean, you look pretty young to be working at a grocery store.” He snapped out of whatever made him pause and entered the 20 into the older register. “I’m homeschooled. After 10th grade, most of us around here are, so we can work on the farm or be helping to support our families. Some still attend their last two years, but they’s families are richer than most of us.” “Ah, gotcha.” His smile had dulled, and I felt sl
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Mental Excuses
Heading towards the shed to check it out, I called the real estate woman, but unfortunately, the signal was still a bust. Opening the shed door, I got the simplest scare I’d ever had. A cat, fat from field mice, came running out, throwing a hiss my way. I almost fell back as I yelled in surprise. “Damned cat.” I looked around to make sure he’d gone, and I didn’t see him. The shed was one of those old metal sheet sheds, half rusted with chicken wire windows. When I looked in, it wasn’t any more significant in size than the common bathroom. Rusted rakes and hoes with broken wood sat covered in web and bug carcasses. There was a blue, dusty old milk crate and some garden tools in a plastic bucket that’d seen better days. On the back side of the shed was a wooden shelf holding an old red metal toolbox of some sort of dirty white ball. It might have been a softball ball, but I didn’t step in to check. Instead, I closed the wooden door and walked over to the tiny house. It only had s
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Quick Stop
Heading down the gravel drive, I passed the hanging sticks again and still found that odd about the place. The land and home were indeed old, so who knows what the previous tenants were into. Finally passing the church and park, I pulled off into a gas station that was no worse for wear. It had two gas pumps, and the outside of the plain white and dirt covered building boasted a sign reading Sunny Gas. I pulled up next to the pump, the fuel gauge showing close to empty in the truck. I decided to fill it up in case the place was a bust in the end, and I would continue my trek after escaping Missouri. Getting out, the pungent smell of oil and grime hit my nose. I turned and noticed the open-door garage adjoined the small station. It read Sunny Repair Garage, so the scent made sense. After fighting with the pump, which didn’t take credit cards and only dinged at me when pushing the grade of fuel I needed, I heard the chime of a bell and a man's voice yell out to me, “It’s pay first!
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Plumbing Issue
I pulled the phone away from my ear the moment the message ended. I never recalled telling the realtor woman I was looking for a place to write or that I was a writer. Figuring maybe she’d read my book or something, I didn’t find it disconcerting and went to the bathroom for a shower. Turning on the faucet, I was startled to see what came out of it. At first, I thought it resembled blood, but then it started sputtering brownish water with a foul smell. “What the fuck?” I quickly turned it off and got dressed. Then, leaving the room, I headed towards the motel’s sad excuse for a lobby. Seeing the old woman behind the counter gave me grief because I knew my complaint would more than likely go unheard. Her beady eyes stared at me as I walked in and up to the desk. “What you need?” She asked before I even spoke. “Somethings wrong with the faucet water in room seven.” She huffed, “Did you let it run for a minute?” I nodded, responding, “Yes. For a moment.” “You need to let it r
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Lucky 7
What she said didn’t even sink in at first. The way she explained it was so normal and logical that I almost nodded, understanding. “Wait, did you say someone was murdered?” She only blinked with a slight shrug, like murder was as ordinary as wiping your ass after taking a shit. “They replaced the pipes because the floor in 6 and 7 was damaged. The bathrooms needed to be updated anyway.” My head was spinning, trying to wrap around the reality of how she said it so casually. “Look, lady,” but she piped in before I could finish talking. “My name is Tina.” I looked at her, thinking if I should tell her I don’t give a crap what her name is, but decided against it. “You’re telling me, Tina, that someone was recently murdered in room 7, the room I am staying in?” She still held her nonchalant look and nodded, “Yes, in the bathroom.” “How is this okay? I mean, someone was killed in there! Don’t you think I would find this a bit, I don’t know, troubling maybe, since you’re
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Realty Or Reality
The sound of my phone suddenly buzzing on the tv stand filled the silence in the room. “Hi, hello,” I said after grabbing my cell phone while reeling from the nightmare. “How’s my favorite writer? Is everything going well? You aren’t returning my messages, Sam.” I didn’t respond right away, I wanted silence until I could clear my head, but finally forcing myself to respond, I said, “Yeah, everything’s just great, Eric. So great, in fact, I got to be stuck in lucky room number 7, where a murder happened, and to top it off, the staff of this joint act like it’s normal.” I left out the nightmare detail. “Oh my god! No shit?! Why didn’t you tell me yesterday? That’s fantastic! You could use this! I can see it now, ‘The Motel, a small desolate place where murder is part of the norm. What makes this place attract those that wish to kill?’ I must say it reminds me of that place in L.A., you know, what’s the name of it?” “I don’t remember. What do you want, Eric?” “Just waiting
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