Short Stories by Melanie

Behind the WoodShed…..The Rest of the Story Part 2

Herold was a vicious bully who terrorized me when I appeared as a scraggly, fucked up kid in his domain, or reign of terror which was his school. To Grandfather, I called school Herodville. Some days he would drive me in his meticulous blue Buick and I would appear on the steps of the house before he could pull back in the driveway. It puzzled him and he would lighten the situation by telling me not to teleport home, like Spock on Star Trek, he knew I sneaked to watch when he slept at night. I couldn’t pull anything over on Grandfather. Two weeks later, he found my shortcut to our house and was waiting in the first backyard through the fence in a garden swing with a sweet widow who seemed smitten by him and his gift of gab and charm. He bribed her with his fresh cut roses and a visit any time she saw me cutting through her yard during school. My days off teleporting were over.

Education was of the upmost importance to him. I had much to catch up on. I was nine and could not read or write. He said I spoke like a sailor and acted like one on weekend pass most days. My first three years with him were grueling to move through the grades so I was on par with other kids my age. I had to read to watch TV…mainly cartoons, like Flintstones and Scooby Doo…my two favorites. I also like a quizz show, Grandfather felt was far too risque and inappropriate for someone my age to watch called Hollywood Squares or to the bane of his existence Hee Haw. Oh that was his least favorite show. He liked the Lawrence Welk show best…but his second was All in the Family which he said was tongue and cheek but a bad influence to “both of our souls” but we watched it faithfully. Even when I didn’t understand, I laughed when he laughed and he would pay my head and his eyes would glisten and sparkle like blue saphires with glee.

Back to School though, I would suffer the torment of Herold each day. I was an easy victim. Different. So odd and peculiar. “Not like the other kids” or “freak”…my teacher said I was often “distracted” although my grades were higher than average. She said I was a “daydreamer with a wise old soul”. I think my Grandfather accepted that as truth and me as who I was…as long as I kept my education foremost, permitable.

So each day Herold and his crew of mindless hoodlums, harrassed me, popping up my skirt, knocking me down, tossing the books out of my arms. One terrifying Wednesday when I stayed late for tutoring, Herold and three boys waited for me after school. I was hungry and not paying attention. I had become complacent in my safety zone which was Grandfather and Home..and Monkey who I slept with each night and day and spoke of my day and secrets I couldn’t share with Grandfather about the terrorizing, harassing, threats and torment of each day of school. I just wanted him to think I was normal. I was afraid of losing what I had, so I hid from the pain and dread of school each day.

The Wednesday, I stayed late…I stepped out the building, I was heading to my shortcut through the widow Ann Blake’s home. She and Grandfather had built quite a friendship on my attempts to skirt school. She was incited to dinner many night, I was glad he had someone so kind and loving to him in his life. I sneaked a peek at him kissing her through the banister on the second floor steps. If I hadn’t giggled, the two would never have know I was there. Just knowing he found someone who loves him as much as I did…except different like an old person would.

Grandfather’s New Love
grandfather and Widow Ann Blake

As their love flourished, I saw a new side of him, more relaxed and less worrisome. I watched her bring out new color in his Aura and glisten in his eyes and pep in his step. He planted her a beautiful rose bush by her backyard fence…he said to remind of both of how much “his girls meant to him each day as we passed”.

Nearly there

I was nearly to our rose bush when Herold stepped out unexpectedly. At first, I was unafraid even with his callous and cruel nature. Then the two older boys appeared, I later learned were his two year older twin brothers. I saw the look before…I knew I should flee…but I hesitated and they pranced on me, dragging me to the ground. One held my shoulders, the other covered mouth, I felt my panties slipping down and saw the evil and wickedness of Herold glaring at me menacingly. I bit the older blonde boys hand and began flailing.

“Do you know my Grandfather, Doctor John Burke? ” I said threateningly…he will kill you for this…but they laughed and grasped me harder pulling me away from the rose bush and Widow Ann Blake’s home and into the cold dirt. I made sound like so strange and distorted and animalistic, it frightened even me. My body was dragged down the road and I felt my life slipping away…once more into a new hell. I prayed in my head and prayed.

This time, God heard me. From behind the widow’s house…appearing from Behind the Woodshed where Grandfather kept his tools to mow and tend her yard and flowers. He built it by hand and I helped as his “Gopher”, helping bring him tools or nails or even lemonade the sweet widow bestowed on us.

Yes I believed him to be a dark angel…not evil dark…just dark skinned. Like a beautiful coffee colored Walnut desk like grandfather had in his office/library where I did my homework. The apparition was husky, maybe overweight, with a wide striking nose and deep kind chocolate eyes that twinked like a glossy tearful look in his eyes. He stood over 6 feet even though he seemed young. His presence terrified the three men so much that they impetuously ran in three separate directions after ceased the assault upon me.

He stared away as I slide my underwear back over my buttock and straightened them cautiously. I brushed what dirt and grass I could. My knees and clothes were terribly stained and my shirt was ripped and my hair had come apart and the streaks were now beating my face in the wind, making it hard for me to see my rescuer.

The Widow Ann Blake’s heard scrimmage…she called Grandfather at work who was apparently racing across town, because she was frightened. Her pug, LuLu was barking incessantly. The widow was terrified. He said for her to call the police.

My hero got edgy and concerned. The next door neighbor stepped out back and on seeing the young dark boy and me so disheveled…began screaming for help…she ran back into to her home. I grabbed his arm to reassure him, my angel, but he was shaking. Our eyes locked together briefly in an intense embrace…both of us bewildered by the other presence. I got so close, I could hear his breath and I stole a kiss on the lips. He looked shaken as if he didn’t know how to react. Then as quickly as he appeared..he slid from my presence leaving me like a surreal dream and into the brush back Behind the WoodShed Grandfather built and disappeared.

My Grandfather appeared almost at the same time as the police officer. The widow Ms Blake l, who knew I was the one in trouble rushed to me, holding me like a protective mama bear who wrapped me in a soft blanket and held me so tightly. I could feel my heart beat with hers. When Grandfather appeared from his blue Buick, we bum rushed him crying like hysterical children.

The police were storming the brush and area and I was spouting off incessantly to Grandfather of what happened. In the commodtion, the police called the widow to the back of the Woodshed to question her. My grandfather followed and without my hero, I stuck to Grandfather like a lampry sucker fish to his leg. When we all ducked behind a bush and there was a tattered blanket, bits of food, a few empty ton cans, a book of matches, some tattered and stained clothing and one large shoe without a shoelace and a small blue tattered Monkey a cop kicked carelessly in to the thicket.

I knew who lived there immediately and my loyalty to my protector raged. The police were off track, and I used the skills Grandfather used on me to get them to listen. I whistled. Loud and hard. In all the commotion, everyone stopped. I shut the neighbor up first who then was then saying she saw a large black boy attacking me.

Everyone stopped and stared. “The boy you speak of…the large black boy you saw, he saved me. That was not my attacker. It was Herold Mascot from school and two older twin boys one with blonde hair, the other a dark brunette. Those three attacked me…the two older boys held me down, covered my mouth and Herold tore down my underwear.” Ann Blake and the neighbor made the sign of the cross in front of their hearts. The widow Ms. Blake got weezy and began to faint, but Grandfather caught her and set her down.

Grandfather pulled the chief aside and the two younger officers behind the woodshed and spoke so softly, I couldn’t hear. I knew his tone and quietness did not match his red face and sharp arm movements. The police spread out.

Grandfather said he shifted that day

The police arrested the three boys. The news spread like wildfire through our sleepy little Texas town. There was a reward for the hero when he could be found. The whole town was searching. I knew he was terrified. I felt him now in my heart and spirit. I spent the next few days with the widow and Grandfather’s love, Ms Blake whole Grandfather worked and I got out of school. On Thursday, we watched television all day to my Grandfather’s chagrin. It was Friday night at midnight. I could not sleep. I tossed and turned. I thought of him so often, running through the woods, alone and afraid he was being hunted for a crime he did not commit.

I thought of his belongings.

I thought of the blue monkey. Of my life and second chance. I got on my knees again, and I prayed out loud for my mystery man. For my love, my hero, my protective phantom who disappeared like a foggy morning. I asked God to bring him back to me. To give him a second chance too . I prayed and wept so deeply and wholeheartedly when I heard a creak behind me and half expected to see the young boy who saved me with a rose. It was My Grandfather though and not a rose, holding a blue monkey. He looked tearful and disheveled. I ran to him and clung to him like an unmovable vine.

He took me to the widow’s house. She tucked me in and hummed me to a listless sleep. I heard Grandfather clanging around her kitchen and wondered his plan.

I should have known Grandfather and his will and persistence. His fearless and undying love for me. I doubted God in my life before that, but I never doubted Grandfather. They said I slept two nights straight. I awoke with a startle, confused and befuddled

At the end of my bed, the widow Ms Blake had set the two monkeys holding each other under my blanket at the foot of the bed. In the chair next to me sat the widow. By the window stood my love. It was raining, he had his forehead pressed against the cool window. When he turned to look at me, he had trouble making eye contact. Grandfather sat across the room and when I peer over he gave me our famous crooked half smile like a mischievous cat. My heart leapt upon seeing him. I jumped from my bed, the widow quickly wrapped me in a proper housecoat. Grandfather didn’t say a word. He knew he had answered my prayer.

I turned slowly towards him and asked his name. He looked down at the floor and wiggled his left foot across the hardwood floor avoiding eye contact. He spoke quietly and stuttered out “Trevor”. He looked like he might dart again like a jack rabbit. So I ran to him and grasped him. He seemed akward and hesitant to touch me. I told him I prayed God would bring him here to give him a second chance, a home, a family and safety.

“Look you are here!” I said and wept. I held him so tightly, he probably couldn’t breathe. I felt his warm breathe on my neck and for the second time, we locked eyes.

Trevor smiled, he knew.

He lifted his arm and for the first time willingly held me, it felt like blanket to comfort me. My love buried his face in the nape of my neck. I told him God sent him to me. He shook his head gently maybe he sent “You to me.”

My Grandfather lay dying, John Burke Junior fussed and wanted Grandfather to sing he said “Please sing Peanut sitting on a railroad tracks song again GG paw”.

Trevor appeared like a cool wind of relief in his three piece suit after work. He kissed My Grandfather’s forehead after embracing me and kissing me gently, hugging his three year old son and kissing Mom (Ms. Blake). He sat down patiently by our sides. Sometimes, we stared at each other saying nothing, my Grandfather said if he had to go to one more graduation….and we all laughed. He and the widow never married because Ms Blake adopted Trevor at 15 and if they married they knew Trevor and couldn’t marry ourselves. It was their continual sacrifice.


Schooling was tough cause at that age Trevor could not read or write. He picked it up so quickly and when given the chance to succeed..

Trevor would say often.
Trevor’s Favorite Quote


Between the two, they took on many neighborhood kids besides us…others thought worthless, bad eggs or not worth the time not Ms Blake and Grandfather. They changed many lives. Still Trevor and I began it all or so we liked to think. Between them we were left a beautiful home and a halfway house. There was more than enough to buy a community recreational center for children in need, tweens and teens in our area. It was a safe place and hot food was always served. Clothes. School supplies. A fabulous library. Computers available. The doors always open. If a child had a need we tried to reach it. Providing classes and counseling to all. Anti Bullying programs exceeded our expectations and the school district was rated highest in state for graduation rate.

We all stood around and sang Silent Night two days bef Christmas. Ms. Blake’s bed was set next to Grandfather’s. He passed during the chorus. I heard the kids sing sleep in heaven peace….it was John Burke who piped up, “it is ok GG paw, I will see you there.” Junior who was sitting next to my Grandfather told us he said he was called to go home. I held his hand til the end. At first, I wanted to say, please don’t go…but I knew it was time to release his soul. Ms Blake died two days later on Christmas.

Trevor and I held it together for John Burke Junior to have a Christmas, neither of us ever had. It was hard not to weep, mourn and grieve at times and other times. It was the most awesome, grateful year of celebration.

We buried the two together in gorgeous coffee colored oak coffins….we asked all attendees of the fineral to choose a rose from either of their gardens of their two homes to lay on their graves if the two impacted their lives.

Final scene,,,Til death do we part
Trevor and I

When Junior was 15, he appeared in our bedroom doorway….”what are these?” Lol…”monkeys with mange?”

I was in bed from the chemo. The only son by birth although we adopted seven more kids along the way….

John Burke Junior held them high making them do an acrobatic act to my bedside. “Mom, you ok?”

“yes, my love.” I said weakly and began to cry, partly for knowing I was leaving him and my other children..and my one believed Trevor

and partly crying knowing I was to see my Grandfather and Ms. Ann so soon.

I could hear John Burke’s voice as it faded into murmurs. He tucked the two monkeys on bed next to my heart

I remember him saying he needed to call his Dad, but he didn’t leave my side. I remember him gripping my hand tightly. I could feel Trevor coming. Like he knew. Before my last Breathe I said one more I love you and as I opened my eyes he was there.


Short Stories by Melanie Thoughts about love

Behind the Woodshed Part 1

John Burke

So here is how it went down…my friends…my enemies. I am unafraid to let you in my crazy…just buckle up.

Behind the WoodShed

The day was monochromatic gray like my soul… I was being left behind…abandoned. God it was painful watching the car of my one time family I barely new turn down the drive and disappear into the fog on the road nearby. My hot face pressed against the cool window, driblets of rain drizzled across the glass, I saw the brake lights hesitate at the end of the driveway. I wondered if they thought twice and would come back for me…forgive me and take me back in to their happy, safe place where I was still was insecure and indifferent to love.

I revisited all my mistakes since I had been back in their home just weeks before. The touching and what was that…and that…was that all wrong? The court…no Judge T. Crawford deemed me a threat to “the other children in the home” due to my what did he call it…oh yeah, “precarious past which was predicting her future”. I was to be placed in a home for orphans “indefinitely” “til I figured my demons out!” As my step dad said, reminding me I was not welcome at their home….now or ever. They said because I was unable to control myself…due to my past without them…with my captors. The Judge called me hyper sexual and likely to be a “a tragedy in life”.

It meant little to me…and everything all at once. My caseworker never pleaded for me. She just nodded her coiffed hair which I thought I could light with a match and burn to death. I looked at the Judge and hated him…so intensely I wanted his imaginary wife and kids to suffer and die mainly for being right. I guess.

So at nine, I sat alone in an orphanage. I didn’t cry during the preceedings, I remember my mother never even looked at me or met my pleading eyes, begging for her love, her forgiveness.

Now sitting at the window, my wall came crashing down to reality. The suitcase held all I owned. Only from the past two weeks. I wondered if they put my purple monkey stuffed animal in there. I wanted to rip it open with a knife and throw the contents to the cold ceramic cream tile floor and seek him to hold. Oh I wish I could hold him tight…he wouldn’t leave me. I believed Monkey to be my only true friend and now my only family and loved one. I was use to being alone. Safer there.

I kept thinking back to my homecoming, the joy, the tears, the overwhelming welcoming and love….and mostly protection and safety. The day I received Monkey which was such a tremendous day.

The other kids from the orphanage were watching curiously, intently like I was for sale again. I felt the gazes at my legs and skin and hair…but not my eyes. I use to avoid eye contact with others.

I heard murmurs and chatter of the kids big and young at meal times because I was kept separate except at meal time and outdoor time when there were many witnesses…even at that age I knew I was not right….headed for a life of crime. My step dad said born evil, fighting and cussing since I came out.

The orphanage was some level of hell I did not know. Cold and calloused. Food and shelter. Loveless. The kids stared at me like I was the monster the Judge said I was. I felt like I was green or red on my skin. I sat alone..I avoided talk or eye contact. I often would lie on the ground outside pretending I was dead. Maybe just wishing it. Mostly not spoken to or even tended too. I was use to the aloneness but I wondered why God would dangle good and hope to me like on a fishing pole and quickly rip it back away. Yes dead..I was dead not outside…inside.

Or so I thought.

The days passed slowly, painfully.

Abandoned and sentenced to loneliness and lack of any affection that I craved.

One day, like a strike of lightening, my Grandfather turned up in front of the headmaster’s mahogany desk. He looked like a British Gentleman in his three piece suit, top hat and wooden cane. We were briefly introduced. I didn’t know if I should hug him tightly or run like a scared rabbit back to the streets to the unknown.

The Grandfather, I guess mine, gave me an odd, sad, regretful look, I had seen a couple times before in my sad existence. Once when beaten to badly was unable to produce any money for a week of work and once when pulled from a week I spent hiding in the sewer when I was finally freed from my captors.

I stood frozen. My life from 3-8 years reflected the fact of what a man would want from a little girl, like me…my toes curled, but somehow it seemed the lesser of two evils that which was the orphanage. So I attempted a half grin with my curly unbrushed hair and patted out the wrinkles of my three day old clothes.

We stood staring eye to eye, the first time I made eye contact in years. It felt akward and uncomfortable. The Grandfather gazed at me, his body language reflected remorse or regret as if I had all ready let him down or horrified him like the firefighters who pulled from the drainage ditch where hid hoping and praying. I was terrified of what he wanted from me. Yet I didn’t look away. He gave me my signature half grin which seemed kind and fearful together. He spoke, his words like soothing music you hear in hotel elevators, saying “You have my sky blue eyes.” I looked questioningly in wonderment.

The Grandfather pulled a pink butter mint candy wrapped in pink celephane. It was so beautiful and precious, knew could not eat it, bit had to show to purple Monkey, my only other belonging I longed and loved and lived for. Then the Grandfather, supossedly mine, held out his outstreched hand to me. At the time, I didn’t know if I should run back to the sewer, to my rat friends, to the unknown of the streets or to a bridge and jump off.

I assumed it would be easier to escape an old man than a locked down orphanage, so I grasped him and the coolness of his old, bony hand. From my peripheral, I saw him pull a hankerchief from his gray suit pants and wiped his eyes and nose. I turned to look at him cautiously, wondering what the hell that meant. He said under his breath so only could hear, ” have worked so hard to finally hold your precious hand. What they did to you. What they made you do, you never have to again…ever, my precious child. Remember this…that your past does not predict your future.”. He was crying, big tears slow and steady, holding back like I did, wanting the tears desperately to go away and stop. Somehow his weakness gave me a sad feeling of losing this person who may give me a new hope in living for Monkey and me. I cried to but in fear of the unknown and fear to hope or pray to God again. Somewhere in my empty hear, I reached down through the pits of hell I had lived and for the first time believed for better.

Headmaster told me to pack my things and return to his sterile office, I loathed and loved the thought of leaving forever with this stranger, the Grandfather, my Grandfather. It was quick work and I held Monkey in my arms as not to lose my only friend and I tucked the beautiful, pink butter mint in my only book, called “I Heard the Owl Call My Name”. I tucked the possessions of importance in my white, disheveled shirt. The suitcase, I was unafraid to lose. I wondered who this Grandfather was…and how the hell he was going to change my life.

I have to take a break from the story with makes me sad in the fact of the uncertainty and unknown. God graced me with The Grandfather. He was so good, kind and fearless to take on such a lost cause like me. I found out years later through transcripts, The Grandfather (as I called him for two years) fought for months for a chance to save me from my previous destiny. Not a day goes by, I don’t look into the mirror and gaze at his (my) beautiful blue eyes, just to see him again, even without the clouds and cataracts, he had at the end. Just to let you know, he was seventy two when he legally adopted me. I was more than any old man deserved attempting. I wish I could say it was all roses like his garden, but many night I heard him crying, talking to God, questioning the next right thing.

He never gave up. Quit me. Abandoned me or left me behind. Although he never spoke of his own kid, he said I was his second chance too.

When I saw my file, he spent an huge amount of money to rescue me…spent months fighting to give me a new life. He once told me I was his greatest challenge and most redeeming reward. They didn’t believe an old man could handle a troubled, heading for disaster nine year old. He never gave up though. His persistence made me what I am today. A warrior to my beloveds. A friend to the underdog. A chance for hope for the lost and hopeless As he lay dying, once again it was the two of us, holding hands. I cared for him through his demise for two years…but to be honest, I was always there…like a shadow at times or a ray of light at others. Only a block away to be near him, even in death, I was loyal. I was everything he made me. I gave it back to him willingly and lovingly.

This is the beginning of my love story, Behind the Woodshed. For in order to love, I had to learn love and John Burke, taught me what it was to love. The Grandfather willing to love the unlovable. He sometimes compared me to his roses. Hard to grow, worth the effort, needing constant care and tending, but always worth it when they bloomed. He said life gave me thorns, God gave me perseverance and he gave me the water of life to survive…together he made my life happen…not a tragedy as suspected but a full, whole, spirited life to live unafraid and unbeaten by anything life threw my way. You were…” He searched slowly for his words.

“My everything.”

He died two days later with me holding his hand. Telling him the stories of our relationship, good and bad. For the first time in my life, I knew there was a til death do we part.

So with his love…I sat and before he died I revealed my deepest secret and darkest hour. I shared it because, I knew he would know it in heaven and he taught me it was better to fess up the truth than to have someone else rat you out.

Behind the Woodshed….the rest of the story…..

The Grandfather’s Greatest Wor 
blog Thoughts about love What About Love?

Just A Minute…

To Josh:

Damn babe…we really gonna go down like this?

We know what is going to happen to you. I just hope it is on our terms. Either way it is our separate paths now. You know now 💯 I stand with you and am solid with you any day, time or hour. But to you only time will prove what I say. I realize that but know that Not every woman is equal to the past. I had to grip that myself with how Robert stripped me of all… including my self esteem. I never thought I could love again…and then you walked into my life.

Here we are

Do you worry about what will happen to me? Alone against the world again. Yeah I learned to be a bad ass bitch before you ever shook my world….upside down and sideways. Fuck You that you have to leave! You gonna rip my heart out again…leave me bleeding on paper. Will I fall…in love with you again.. or apart??? I’m in it for life is what my heart tells me.

Damn straight… after Robert…my X I never thought I would recover. I never thought I would believe in myself. I never thought I would find love or happiness. I never thought I could. Yet here we are bae.

The first night was under the stars Cowboy’s place. You said the you were falling in love. I smiled because I knew. You knew too it was back at you.

So you may love me….for just a minute.

I may love you….for just a minute…or forever.

I guarantee though….it was meant to be now…. between us…for us. I desperately needed you and your love and protection. I believe you needed me too for the journey you face.

Funny how love works.

In such a short period of time for us and look at all the crazy shit we have been through…I probably shouldn’t mention.

Yet here I am before you again.

Now and always Josh




Author’s Notes on Broken Shadow

This video depicts the character I used to write this fictional tale. You can see his nasty clothes and how he shuffles like an old man. His shirt is on backwards. Such a sorry man.

The lines between truth and fiction blur so often it can be hard to distinguish…but John is an actual man I know. When he sees me he shuffles in a little dance with me. I usually bring him food and water. His little dance between us reminds me he is still there and needing interaction and to know he is lived and cared or even now.

I often wonder where he stays….he just seems to aimlessly wander in and out of life. It is true that he was hit with a hot shot…or so they say on the streets.

I will look for him in the next couple of days to get a pic together.

I plan to leave this city of Conroe who hate the homeless. I don’t know which way yet… but not here.

So much of my real-life and fictional stories deal with the characters I am surrounded by here. Tonight Josh was acting like a psycho freak…and I wouldn’t go with him into his spot because he was scaring me so badly. He ended up going straight to the two but whore crazy Kelly. I guess it made me realize just how much IDGAF anymore about people who mistreat me. So goodbye Josh! Oh and kiss my sexy behind…nope…psych. I feel a sense of relief that this fucker is finally out of my life. I plan to leave here as soon as I can…

Will keep y’all updated

Aces Out

The Eclectic Writer


Should I Take a Quick Dip in the Pond?

I am wondering if this is a good idea or not…I sometimes make poor decisions even without any drugs or alcohol.

Does this not look like fun?

Or should I wait til darkness and then hop in for a quick dip? Yeah…it’s a plan…I will send pics if I can!

#another day of fucked upness #writers soul blog Faith HTown Thoughts about love What About Love?

After Work Today…

Josh and I had plans but he spun out with this guy we both like! He said half an hour but that was an hour ago. I don’t know why I let my heart be tormented by him.

I am going to take a dip in the pond that sits off the interstate as you enter town..

I may just soak my sore, hot, swollen feet to begin…but I am realizing Josh likely is doing his own thing.

I am heading to his spot. I plan on packing what things I have left. That way if his whore comes tonight it wont even be an issue. He obviously wants her there. She has a nasty ass he’d she lives in but she intrudes and he welcomes her least doesn’t send her on her way which if he respected me or cared how I felt…he would.

It hurts but am I going to let some man strip me of my dignity or stop me from being the best me I can be….



WTF…Why am I here?

Today Josh did me wrong so many different ways, but the final blopp was a whale joke as he walked off. Well all I can say is fuck you, JOSH.

You tell me my attitude makes me ugly…damn straight. I have gotten were you ripped my heart out more than stupid ass Robert…my fucking X. Yeah you tore my heart out…..

And I let you.

Let me bleed…mainly on paper but what the fuck. Does anyone care?

Fucking rhetorical question. Don’t botheranswerinf, bitch.

I know who loves me andwho don’t.

I have NO FAMILY. I ain’t attendingany of you funerals.

Those mf left me here to die. This is to Robin…..i hope your children suffer homelessness. I hope they deal with daily assault and rapes I hope Am is stronger than whoring for her way like me…. I hope they grovel for food and drink. I hope they wake up to a anger ejaculating on them….I hope you turn them out like me and desert them like scraps of useless paper.

#writers soul HTown Shit Talking with Jackknife short stories and blurbs Short Stories by Melanie

Broken Shadow

The first time I saw the homeless wanderer in person, he was verbally attacking imaginary demons ..something about an evil midget and four keys. He was so disheveled he pushed away the food and water I bought and raced off back into the woods behind downtown convenience store in a rough part of town.

His clothes looked sodden with puke, shit and blood. He appeared in just one set of clothes every time he caught my eye….and the clothes were so dirty and dingy they could never have come clean. He had wiry whiskered face splashed with dried mud and blood. On his neck was a bizarre tattoo of a three headed demon dog with a chain that wrapped his entire neck.

The second time I saw him in person that is. I had him heavy on my heart. I had been carrying a set of new clothes for him and a few toiletries that he might use. Over the past year, I caught glances of the homeless man wandering up and down the streets of downtown Houston near where I worked, but when I sought his ghostly image out, he was gone. Vanished into the concrete and mirk of the streets…I would chase him til I became frightened of my surroundings and even my good intentions would retreat.

He vanished…Like a broken shadow.

It was the second time I saw him up close, I pulled into a gas station before work, hoping to meet my plug. The convenience store worker who was about thirty told me the homeless man’s story.

The broken shadow name is John.

So what happened to John? John was twenty eight when his misfortune began. Although originally, he was Young, wealthy, successful and a tad bit cocky. Maybe a bit like me. The convenience store worker said he use to be quite handsome an well dressed and maintain. A real ladies man.

That year he slipped into the hell of addiction…and by the end of the year came out the aimless wandering nobody…that melted away into the shadows. While he laid with the heroine whore, he also ended up sleeping with his drug dealing best friend’s wife His friend sought revenge and mixed a cocktail of heroine and fentanyl in one needle and the other needle a dose of pure fentanyl. The friend did not care which one died and which one of the betrayers would wander around aimlessly like a drugged zombie for eternity.

Anyways.. they say John was the lucky one. Only in the fact he was still alive. His mistress, his best friend’s wife died almost instantaneously from the hot shot of fentanyl. Reeling in pain and convulsions and foaming at the mouth.

They say by the time John realized what his friend had done to his cheating wife, it was too late. He himself had been hit shot with a dangerous dose and quickly was washed over by madness

The next time I saw John, it was in the obituaries. They listed twelve surviving relatives including both parents and six siblings. From the picture, I barely recognized him except the distinctive tattoo I had seen on his neck of the three headed demon dog and chain.

He was cleanly shaven and dressed in a suit for his obituary. It said he was buried at a nearby cemetery family plot. I went there once, just to see his grave.

Sadly it was unmaintained and seemed forgotten, like a mistake. I spent an hour and cleaned up the grave. I left a bouquet of lazy Susan’s and slipped away myself as my own broken shadow dealing with addiction. Somehow his story helped me heal. I began going to meetings and changing my people, places and things.

Now every year on my sobriety birthday, I attend a memorial service for a man I never knew, who changed my path of destruction into a life of success and fulfillment.

It seemed John’s life was so insignificant,,,yet his being changed the whole direction of my life Sometimes even Broken Shadows cast great light.

#writers soul author’s notes blog dark swing Faith Fuck You Two HTown

Damn Straight

Well here I sit outside his tent….Joshua’s tent that is. The whore and her guy friend are gone. Thank God. Took most of our good food and other shit they could steal without us noticing.

I tried talking to Josh this morning about the situation, but I might have well been talking to a fish. An explosive fish…but none the same.

So nothing changes…nothing matters. He really doesn’t care how I feel or if I hurt. I wonder why I fall for me like that.

blog Me Thoughts about love What About Love?

10:30 pm Friday Night

Hello y’all I would like to share on some of my fucked up life tonight. Yeah it usually makes for a good read. So tonight Josh and I bathed at the campsite and got ready for bed. I showed him the place but I consider it his spot until he leaves. Especially since he ditched me for a street whore named Crazy Kelly. So he left with here and just recently returned and once again won me back…because my heart is a damn dumbass. Lol

We were relaxing when the whore he left me for and her best guy friend crashed our tent……fucking Josh seems to think that’s ok. He welcomed them in and now the whore sleeps next to Josh one side and me the other. He gave her my sunny d which is now half empty. So if I had elsewhere to go I would be long gone.

We both work tomorrow. Anyhow I am so pissed and I am writing you…and there is light by my phone…he turned his back on me so he is facing the whore. I think he is going to wonder why I had such a hard time sleeping when I am crushed in a corner of a hot fucking tent. I am considering cutting out a backdoor if I feel any more like I am suffocating. Haha.

I guess I am use to such negative behavior from men respect for me. I wish I was hanging with one of my homedudes who would treat me like a queen. I certainly wouldn’t be sitting here writing this rant at this time of night.

I will publish this in the morning. I am off wifi until then. I will spend the next few hours writing a fictional story to ease my pain.

blog Me Thoughts about love What About Love?

So here it is…

Sometimes I am candid to protect anyone involved…so here it is…the truth. I have been AWOL because my stupid butt went out and fell in love. Please don’t chastise me!

I am at a local park. The birds are coming alive. I can hear the traffic from Interstate 45 rumbling nearby. It is actually illegal to be here in the park at this time. The park is closed. It is also illegal to sleep in public here, but I am planning to anyways.

I am drinking a warm beer.

I am hoping the man I love comes back here to where we were last. We sat here and shared a set of headphones and listened to music together for many hours.

I had worked all day and was so exhausted. I could barely move my knees up and down the 8 flights of stairs that day. I was so glad to get off and when I did…Josh was standing there, looking incredible, waiting for me.

You all know how cryptic I am. So I can’t fill you in on all the details. I guard my heart so we’ll usually, I knew not to fall.

Yet here I am. Hoping he turns back up.

That I may see him one more time before he goes away for awhile.

Joshua sneaked into my world like a soft, cool breeze on a hot summer day.

So here I wait,

Longing for him to push me away once more.

blog Thoughts about love

Somewhere Along My Path …

It is 5:05 am. I am exhausted. I walked so many miles around town to find my friend, Josh. I am heartbroken 💔.

My heart is a dumbass….my mind is smart and cunning…not vulnerable, but my heart is a dumbass who only listens to itself…not reason.

I am sitting in a local park.

blog recommended sites

My Biggest Enemy is Me….

And even I can’t stop me.

One of my new webpages:


Hope to see you down the road!

author’s notes blog Me New Life

Two Days Left:

Today is my one year anniversary of my Blog. Unfortunately, I am unable to renew and WordPress was unable to work with me on extension. So anyways…thank you readers and friends for love and encouragement…and even though I made baby steps…U believe I am still moving in right direction as a writer.

I have set up several free sites. Maybe look for me in the future! I am publishing my Memoirs of living above my inlaws garage for six years. It is a crazy ass story. I hope you will look for published copy in near future.

The McCall Memoirs

By Melanie J McCall

blog Fuck You Two

Prayer for My X

I pray when you are down, you fall even further and that your rock bottom has a subbasement.

I pray when life gives you lemons, it squirts you in the eyes and it burns.

I pray people see the behind closed doors you…your ugliness inside and cold, calculating evil

I pray you ended up with someone just like you! Or better yet like your nasty mom! You never could cut the strings, puppet.

I pray just like you do to everyone… that nothing is ever good enough.

I hope she detests your being over time, like I learned too and wishes you dead.

In this new relationship, I pray you end up being treated like a remote control…not her.

My hopes are also that when she leaves you, she stripes you of everything….even your job since she is your coworker. I hope your child turns against you cause of her poison.

I pray she is more evil than you and your detestable family of scum. I hope she finds out how racist you all are.

I pray her false face and pretentious nature is even deeper than your own..that she plays you and in the end it is you on the streets.

Also, it would be a bonus, if you found someone who takes longer to get ready than you and your vain soul. Somehow that seems like justice all those years spent waiting on you.

I pray when your days are numbered….that they are long and hard and empty and that these words of your true nature will not be refuted.

Lastly, my dear I hope your outside begins to reflect your true ugliness that you bare on your insides.

Good bye to my X…your death will be none to soon for me and the world will be a better place and the sun will shine brighter in joy.


Catherine McCall Obituary – TX | Houston Chronicle

If ever you need place to take a shit…find these gravestones in The Woodlands

#another day of fucked upness blog Fuck You Two What About Love?




The Robert Michael McCall decided to through me to the streets, take my vehicle and leave me destitute so he could be with his latest flavor of the year.



The kid says it was her decision…she says I might infect her because I am a homeless fuck.


I will begin by asking you to use a more decent approach. Especially when asking for favors.
I know your full name and I’m aware of how many times I’ve been married and what order it went in.

Next, the court order is very clear on exercising your right for visitation. You are currently four hours outside the window. I have followed the orders to the letter and expect you to do the same.

As far as your belongings, I’m not sure what COVID would anything to do with it. I am currently paying storage for your items so I don’t find it fair for me to incur additional expenses. Particularly with how mediation was handled.

Ok Bitch! Let’s dance!

I am going off the radar.

My youngest kid even don’t want me. Fuck you!




NO I made it on my own!

So game on asshole! Ok h and threatening to kill me! Ok Mr. CHL!


A Bit About the Start of My Day….

First of all, there is a precursor to today. Yesterday, I received my stimulus check, but 100% went to my first X Brian T. For past due child support.

I was fairly devastated.

God brought me through yesterday and blessed me!

This morning I found a 5 dollar bill.

So I bought this!
And Won This!

So even now…God’s got my back!

Keep the Faith!


Picto Diary of Being with Me Today

Signs near my spot
Spanish restaurant that reopened with cute Veranda. It use to be barren. I would sit sometimes at night and smoke. It was so festive, pretty and alive.
Their cool plants !
A pin cushion with no pins like my Nana’s near a busy street. Hmmmm
Twisted vine and Tangled woods.
Fields of these sweet purple wild flowers pop Texas this time of year. So many miss them while driving by! Since I walk everywhere I enjoy the little things.
Candy Cane Park by Heritage Museum after Cops ran me off. Someone complained.
Gazebo near Park.
Sad, tattered flag near golden corral. It made me sad and flags there should be retired!
Hahaha. Took me a minute like wtf is that….it was a cool dead bee on frontage road of I-45
Texas Wildflowers. I think these are Lazy Susans… beautiful and plentiful here in many open fields. So common most don’t even notice.
Whatever this is on overpass by Interstate 45! No one would see unless walking and happen to look in there.
This Red White and Blue fire Hydrant near a strip mall.
A dreamy mattress at fancy mattress store I drooled over a bit!
What about this Polaris four wheeler!!! Holy crapolla!
Wicked fun!?
I was obviously enamoured! My next golf cart! Lol
Lastly this Texas bumper Sticker on nice truck. 🙂
Thanks for walking with me around town today. I appreciate your company. Hope you had fun too

#writers soul blog Me

Love Letter to Myself….

From Previous post and recommended through webpage writersevenhues on WordPress:

Here I Go.

First thing I need to say!

Dear Me:

I am sorry for how I treated you all these years. For not loving you for everything you you were, just hating for everything you were not! I remember being so young and not caring about what others think and feeling ok with me way the hell back then.

Life hit you hard though..I know I treated you with contempt and anger that you could not be what you were not made to be. I hated your life and what you’d been through. I blamed you for the scars on your knees for crawling through the shards of glass of life to take you to today.

I tortured you with diets and vomiting and all sort of unhealthy crap to try to confirm to a society that did not accept you and said you were not good enough as you were. I set unrealistic goals on you…that you could never reach in your life time.

Please forgive me. For being blind to your true beauty and fearlessness which for the most part is inside and I realize now that that fact matters more than anything that hateful mirror says to you!

I regret that you chose certain paths like Meth (your enemy)! That was your biggest mistake and war you have to fight…but know this: WE FACE IT AS ONE!

Did you not base your self worth in your husband? You believed him to be your whole story when he ended up being just a brief, painful chapter.

But really, why did you give up on us?

Did you not see together forever for us?

I will stand with you this time! Not try to harm you. Kill you. Or sabotage your future.

I actually like many things about you. Strenght. Courage. Perseverance. And hell I even think you are fucking funny as hell (I am in the minority there, but girl keep it up). You have endless hope and fresh starts every day. I see your writing flourishing too. Along with your children. So are those not the things you love the most?

You have to admit, you couldn’t be all bad and own the fact your three kids are so friggin amazing and downright cool. So lighten up, love. You ended up being bad ass, girl! And finally I see it!

Best thing you have done for us is seek Faith. Chasing God first! Trying to do right…as hard as it may be for you. Keep going! You are going the right way. Stay in NA! (Narcotics Anonymous) and clean and sober life.

Don’t look outside of you for fulfillment. Be happy to be exactly who you are. You wasted alot of time not accepting your gifts. Own it and run with it and chase your dreams. Let God direct you and be kind.

I will love you til death. I will not betray you or leave you. I will always be by your side. You have learned to respect you….lb

And I have too.

Love Always…



I Wrote a Love Letter to Myself

It is actually writersevenhues on WordPress! Check it out!

I found this blogger today by the Grace of God! I read this post and gave heartfelt comment.

Today I am penning my own love letter to myself.

Who knows where it will take me but I believe up a step from where I am!

Great posts here on this bloggers site! Please check out SevenHues!



blog What About Love?

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In Local Area…

Had one taker….yep here he is…

The two of us last night snuggling under the stars!