Locked Door

Posted on February 9, 2018 by ashleymanningwriter

There is a tree outside my window that was planted before I was born. It stretches up-towards the sky, branches spread wide, mid-yawn. A breeze pushing through the leaves is the only reminder that there is an outside. Even in summer only an autumn’s evening glaze reaches my room. My mum doesn’t like me to have the light on, unless it’s actually dark outside. My door remains closed. I want to open it, but I can’t. It’s jammed in the frame somehow. Warped. I tried pulling it and nothing happened. I’ve nearly bent the door handle off.

It doesn’t matter that I can’t get out. Someone will find me sooner or later. Mum or Dad will return from work and let me out. They always do. I could open the window, and scream for help. But no one  would listen. The tree muffles the scream of summer joy coming from children playing outside.

I should be at work today, but I’m not. They won’t mind. I called in sick, expecting some kind of questioning and got nothing. A one word answer and that was the end of it. A forgotten thought that doesn’t continue after the click. I can do everything I need to in this room. I can walk and exercise. Scraps of food will keep me going for a couple of days at least. Always a bottle of water left next to the computer.

The internet is down. Dad probably turned the plug off last night. He often does that. I can turn the computer on, but there is nothing to do. I could carry on writing a story, but no one reads it. I could play a game but I only have a couple and don’t feel like it.

I wish the sun would come into the room and perform its day long dance, slowly winding along the floor like a snake watching its prey. I would be able to tell something is moving then. That time isn’t just standing still. Frozen like a man watching a car crash.

I press the button on the remote but the red light doesn’t blink on the TV. Batteries may be dead. I don’t know. What’s the point though. Aerial TV disappeared a long time ago and I don’t have anything else to watch. I could watch static for a while, at least something would be moving. I can’t move from the bed to click the big button though.

I fetch my phone from the bed side table. The screen lights up the whole room, sucking away the darkness. My eyes transfixed. Slowly everything outside of the phone fades into complete blackness. I can’t see anything other than the screen. No new texts, no missed calls. I ran out of data so no internet for me. At least I can tell time is moving. I open the clock app and watch as the fake second hand moves around. 1 – 60. Then the fake minute hand moves once. I watch this a few times. The rest of the world has gone. The joy from outside is gone. The pale sunlight faded and it’s only eleven in the morning.

The door clicks open, I hear it but I don’t look up. I don’t move from the bed. My eyes glued to the empty screen of rotating illusion.

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Something New

Posted on February 8, 2018 by ashleymanningwriter

It’s been a while since the last update post. I think about writing them, but I don’t want them all to just sound the same. It seems like now is a good time since The Broken Pocket Watch finished last week. I didn’t quite stick to the plan of uploading every week, but we got there in the end.

My plan is to continue editing it and then eventually release it as a physical book and ebook. It’s current state is still a bit of rough, with only a few edits. I’m sure there are tons of errors all over that I will have to find. I’m also having a cover made for the book at the moment, which seems to be coming along nicely.

This Friday I’m going to be uploading a piece of flash fiction that I wrote a couple of weeks back. I was suffering some writer’s block and decided to just write something new, quick and without much thought. I’m happy with what came out. The piece is called Locked Door. It’s not very long but I’m happy with it.

Next week I’m going to be uploading Chapter One from a new book that I’m writing. Still writing it now. It’s currently called Time Heals… but that may be changing at some point, it’s just a working title. I’m very happy with how this is turning out and am excited to hear people’s reactions. I don’t know how many chapters it will be, but I have a plan for the novel, a more detailed plan than I normally do.

Outside of writing, things in my life are pretty much the same. I’ve decided to stay away from binging TV shows, limiting it to only when I’m eating and in the evening. I’m slowly making my way through 12 Monkeys, which is dull and Jane the Virgin, which is anything but dull. There’s also the weekly shows, Star Trek Discovery, Riverdale and Black Lightning. I can take or leave any of these. Nothing special.

I’ve seen quite a few good films at the cinema recently, which isn’t surprising as it’s awards season. The Greatest Showman and Three Billboards Outside Ebbing Missouri are the standouts. Coco and The Post were also very good. Phantom Thread was decent enough.

I’ve also discovered the joys of audio books. My Mum was raving about how good they are so I started the free trial on audible, and am sold. I’ve been listening to The Stand by Stephen King which is something I’ve always wanted to read, but now I can listen while doing the washing up or walking to work. It took me a little while to actually pay attention properly but once I got used to it I was hooked. The book is great as well. I have about 9 hours left.

Thanks for Reading,

Ashley

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The Broken Pocket Watch – Chapter Twenty-Two (Final Chapter)

Posted on February 2, 2018 by ashleymanningwriter

I don’t have to think about going back, it just happens. At least that one wasn’t so disorienting. I head back into the house. Dad’s working on something.

“When did you go out?” He says, looking up.

“Um. A minute ago, just for a little walk.”

“How did I not see you?”

“You’re so focused on that. I didn’t want to disturb you.”

“Ok. Just be careful with that watch. Don’t use it too much again. I don’t want to take it away from you.”

“I swear to you, I wasn’t even using it that time.”

“Sure. Go on, get changed. Dinner will be ready soon. I got us some potatoes. Bit of butter. We’ll call that beauty.”

“Sure.”

I walk past him, trying not to think of the potatoes boiling in Tobi’s house. They’re trying to force its way into the front of my mind, but I won’t let it. That can stay as far back as possible. I go upstairs and change. The clothes sitting on my bed where I didn’t leave them. Maybe I did take them out. Did I? No I’m pretty sure I didn’t. Well I’m wearing them now, so that’s progress. I walk out of my room, and back into my room and take the clothes out of the wardrobe and sit them on the bed as I saw them before, without thinking and then walked back out.

That just happened out-of-order, didn’t it? I’m not sure enough to run downstairs and tell Dad, but I’m pretty damn sure.

“Nymia,” Dad calls. “Dinners ready.”

“Thanks, I’ll be down in a second.”

I take the stairs slowly and pause at the shop door at the bottom. I ignore it and double back around to the kitchen, slowly. Opening the door, I find Mum standing at the fireplace, boiling something. There’s no one at the table. She doesn’t turn to see me.

“Hello.”

She doesn’t respond as if she didn’t hear me. I walk over to her and try to touch her arm, but she dissolves into the air. Her body, swept away into an invisible windswept vortex. In her place, Dad appears, walking towards the pot.

“Let me just dish it up,” he says.

“Thanks. I’ll be back in a second. I’m just going to wash my hands. Back in a second.”

“Go on then, hurry up. It’ll get cold.”

I turn and run back up the stairs. Creaking echoes throughout me. I run over to the toilet and kneel down. I don’t throw up, although I feel like I should. Standing up, I look in the dirty mirror. My cracked face staring back at me. I can’t do this any more. I have to try to break it.

I take the pocket watch out and place it in the sink. I make a fist and punch the glass. It cracks, like the mirror, with no resistance. Another punch and the glass shatters, flying across the room. Almost as if there was years of pressure building up and I just released it all at once. I move backwards, but not quick enough. A shard hits my eye. Dropping to the floor my already bloody hand covers my eye. I scream in pain. It hurts so much.

“What’s going on?” Dad shouts, and in a second is stood in the doorway.

“I broke it. I broke it. I broke it.”

“What?”

“It hurt me.”

I move my hand, and look at him. I can’t believe I can still see through the eye. My whole face feels numb and I can’t stop shaking.

“What happened? Are you okay.”

“I broke the watch. A bit flew in my eye.”

Mum is standing next to him, also worried. I can see them both. But they can’t see each other.

“What’s happened?” She asks.

“I broke it. I broke it.”

“Come on,” Dad says. “I’ll get you to the doctor in the City. We have to leave now. Leave that.”

“Okay,” I say pulling myself up on him.

“You’ll be okay,” Mum says. “I promise.”

“How can you see me?”

“What?” Dad cries. “Can you see?”

“I can see you fine,” Mum says. “Please go and get help. I’ll still be here when you come back.”

“What’s going on?” I ask.

“Lets go. Stop talking, let me carry you.”

Dad takes two steps at a time as he carries me down the stairs. I look over his shoulder at Mum who is watching me go.

“It’s okay,” she shouts. “I can see you. I’ll always see you. You’ll always see me.”

We leave the house, with the potatoes still boiling, water flooding over the edge of the pot and down to the floor.

The world turns into a hazy nightmare. Colours twirl and dance around me. Pain comes and goes. I can hear people talking, but not see them. And then I can see them but not hear them. The entire time, colours dance and twirl around me. The sun and the moon are hanging in the sky at the same time, reunited like lost friends who have been searching for each other since the beginning of time.

The next day I’m sitting back at home. It’s night-time, morning and evening all at once. There are thousands of people walking around my bed, merging into one another. If I close my right eye, the one the glass hit then I can’t see them. Their voices become a mumble. The doctors gave me an eye patch, told me to wear it to stop infections. That I would never be able to see through it again. Dad tells me it’s turned pale blue, like my Mum’s eyes. I haven’t seen a mirror yet.

I keep wearing the eye patch, replacing it whenever it gets torn. It stops me from seeing everything. Every moment that has ever happened, and every moment that will ever happen.

The year goes on at an odd pace and I learn to focus on hearing just the present. Maybe one day I’ll learn how to see like that as well, but if not then the eye patch works.

I’m sitting at the table, playing with the eye patch in my hands. I’ve learnt to focus my sight a little. In the sense that I can ignore everything else, it becomes a blur in the background. But at least I can see well with my good eye. Dad is reading the paper while eating eggs from the farm. Mum is boiling something. I can see her, and if I want her to, she can see me. I don’t really understand it, but I’m learning. That’s why I keep the eye patch close, it blocks out everything else. There’s something I want to say, but I don’t know how. I’ve been trying to think of how to bring it up, but can’t figure it out. This is the best way though.

“I’ve got the scholarship,” I say without warning.

They both look at me, with complete shock and joy in their eyes.

“Well done. I knew you would,” they both say at the same time.

 

The End

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The Broken Pocket Watch – Chapter Twenty-One

Posted on January 19, 2018 by ashleymanningwriter

Dad’s already made an egg sandwich for breakfast. I ignore the blue spots and take a bite.

“You feeling any better this morning?” he asks.

“Yeah, I think so.”

“Good. Salime was executed last night. There wasn’t much of a chance of anything else, to be honest.”

“Good. He deserves it.”

“Cold. I don’t expect that from you.”

“I can’t stop thinking about Tobi. He was such a nice kid. I want to go back and do something, stop it. But I know it doesn’t work that way.”

“I know you want to, so do I. But that’s not the way the world works. I’ve taken the pocket watch from you, but I think you can have it back. I’ll keep it a couple more days, just until you’re feeling fully yourself. But I trust you.”

“Thanks,” I say while looking down.

I can’t meet his eye. I don’t even want to eat any more. I don’t know what I’ve done, but I’ve changed something. Maybe he doesn’t know it, but I have. I know it.

“Are you going back to school today?”

“Is it Monday?”

“Tuesday, you didn’t go yesterday.”

“I can’t keep track of the time.”

“You’ve been asleep through most of it.”

“Yeah, I’ll be going today.”

“Good. Don’t fall behind, you need to get into that scholarship.”

I finish eating and head out for school, with plenty of time to spare. The streets are all empty, no one walking around. The sun is high above me, casting shadows on the streets around me. Looking up the sky is clear, blue skies in every direction. But down here, the wall and the houses block it out. The mud is still slightly damp from the last time it rained, whenever that was. No grass or flowers grow around us at all. It’s all just plain mud, with little patches of dead grass.

A cloud passes overhead and darkens my walk even further. I know every turn so well. No one is around. I look up, it’s not a cloud. It’s already grown darker. The world is near enough pitch black. What’s going on. Why won’t this stop.

Rain starts hammering down on me. The lamps have been lit. It’s night-time. I turn around and try to head back home. I don’t know where I am. The village looks different. I don’t recognise any of the buildings around me, even though I know these streets like the inside of my bedroom.

I wander around, looking for anything I recognise. Everything seems twisted. There’s the cafe, but it’s not next to Bradford’s house. The school, it’s on the edge of town, nowhere near its usual place. My mind is completely broken.

The rain stops as I reach Tobi’s house. It’s got to be this house, doesn’t it. It couldn’t have been mine. It has to be this one. I stop moving and stare at the entrance. The door swings open, there’s no one inside and no wind blowing. Great. Not only am I insane, I’ve entered a ghost story.

I walk to the doorway. I’ve never been in Tobi’s house before. It’s small. The area in front of me is bare, apart from the fire place. A pot boiling. The smell of boiling potatoes greets me. I haven’t smelt that in ages. On the floor, are two bodies. I was almost expecting them, so I’m not surprised at all. I don’t even need to look at them to know who they are. It looks as if it’s been raining in here as well as out there. The pools of blood have faded and joined with the rain, covering the whole floor. It’s dark, I can barely make out the bodies.

I walk towards them and the whole world brightens up around me. The sun starts to shine through the doorway. I turn and check, wincing as my eyes hit the sun. The bodies have disappeared. The floorboards have seeped the rain away. My rags still weigh me down, drenched and clinging to me. The house is empty.

I leave, the village looks normal again. Even my clothes feel dry. I start heading to school. That’s got to be where I go, right? Even though I can’t handle this any more. I wish I’d never seen that pocket watch. When I get home I’m going to take it and smash it. I’m going to destroy it and never be able to use it again. Dad won’t mind. I’m sure he won’t. Then this will all stop. I’ll live a normal life. I’ll get that scholarship and go and live in the City with my Uncle, together we’ll change the world for the better. That’s what I’m going to do. There is nothing stopping me, apart from that watch.

I don’t remember if I attended school, or if my mind has skipped again, either way I’m heading home. Everything blurs together. One moment I’m walking towards school, and the sun is high in the sky. The next moment, the winter moon is shining down on me as I turn the last corner home. It doesn’t matter. I’ll go home and destroy that watch. It’ll make everything normal again, and then I’ll focus on school.

Dads working, like he’d be doing anything else, when I get home.

“Evening, honey. Bit late aren’t you?”

“Sorry, wasn’t keeping track of time.”

“No problem, I didn’t think you’d be getting into trouble.”

“I’m boring, I was definitely not getting into trouble.”

“Boring, is one thing you’re not,” he says while looking up at me.

I walk around the counter and hug him. I won’t ask him right away, about the watch. I’ll leave it until later and sort it then. I don’t want this moment to end. He reaches his arms around me and holds me back. This is what I want. Even though I miss Mum, it isn’t worth forgetting this. All of those things I could do, changing the world with that watch, it would never work. This is what I would be giving up, and no one would ever see a difference.

I let go and head upstairs. Maybe I don’t need to ask for the watch, he can keep it. I’ll never be tempted to use it again and I won’t have to destroy it. That would be brilliant.

The door to my bedroom is already open. I just want to throw on some fresh clothes, lay down and read until dinner is ready. But it’s sitting there. Right there on my bed side table. Just laying there waiting for me, almost staring at me. The pocket watch. I can’t believe he gave it back to me, and today of all days. Couldn’t he have just kept it. Now I have to touch it. I have to pick it up and hold it. Maybe I can resist using it, and just keep it next to me. Maybe I can do that.

It’s cold to touch. The metal casing is smooth. I run my fingers along the engravings on the back. The swirling patterns. I can’t believe I’m holding it again. Looking up, I see specks of white out of the window. Is it snowing? Again? Twice in one winter. It’s cold out, but this is weird. I’ve never seen it snow before this year, and now again. I suppose that’s to be expected.

I head downstairs to find Dad. He’s not in the shop, or the kitchen. Maybe he’s gone out, can’t believe the snow either. I pull the door open and let the fresh blast of icy wind hit my face. I don’t remember it being this cold. I can see my breath forming in front of me. Dad isn’t there. I take a step out into the cascading glistening sky. Stretching my arms I twirl around, letting as many flakes as possible fall on me.

I didn’t get to do this last time, take that first step into the crunching depth. It feels so satisfying. I’m glad no one else has come out yet, I walk to the end of the street, and then turn and walk along side my own footsteps. I can see them, parting the snow. And then they’re filled in by more of the falling joy. I can’t stop smiling. The world is so beautiful.

I walk back to the end of the street and then turn and walk away from the shop, my head down focusing on the crunching snow. I turn, but the footprints aren’t being filled in, not even slightly. Has the snow already stopped? It was so heavy a minute ago. I look up from the ground, it’s static in the air. Just like before, but this time I understand. Have I stopped time? No, I didn’t mean too. I left it in my pocket didn’t I. I don’t like this. My feet start without me thinking, heading back to the shop. But I stop at the corner. There I am. On the roof with Dad. He’s holding me, both of us staring forward. He’s talking, but I can’t hear what he’s saying. I know though, I remember. He’s telling me about the watch. He’s telling me the story. I could stop it right now.

I would never have to deal with this, if I told him not to give it to me. I could go back, just a couple of hours more and tell him to let me run in the snow, but never tell me. I could stop my brain from melting. That would solve everything. I wouldn’t meet my Uncle, or Grandparents. Or Mum. That would be worth it wouldn’t it. Not to be haunted by this, not meeting them? I can’t do it. I have to deal with this now, rather than stopping it from ever happening.

I don’t move from my spot, hoping they won’t see me. The snow starts slowly drifting down on us again, the crooked chimneys are sprouting out from their white fields. I never want to forget this moment, it’s worth everything else. Everything will be alright. I’ll stop using the watch and everything will go back to normal. I don’t need to destroy it. I’m stronger than that. I’m not going to move, I’m going to stand here and watch every snowflake touch the floor, I’m going to watch myself fall asleep in my Dad’s arms. He’ll carry me down the ladder and take me to bed. And this will all start over for me. But I’ll stay here a moment longer, before heading back. If my brain lets me. Maybe I’m not even moving through time right now, just through my own mind. Who knows. I’m enjoying the snow though. Shifting slightly to enjoy the crunch.

To Be Concluded…

 

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Goodbye 2017

Posted on January 2, 2018 by ashleymanningwriter

Another year has come and gone. 2018 is here and it’s time for looking back and also looking forward. A lot has changed this year. I live in my own house, which is slowly sinking in. This time last year seems more than a year ago. It’s hard to believe it was only twelve months ago that I was desperately awaiting Resident Evil 7’s arrival. It seems like this year has gone quickly, but those first couple of months seem more than just a year away.

Every year I set myself aims for the next year, and every year I fail on most of these. Doesn’t stop me from doing it all over again though. Like every year, the main aim of 2018 is to write more and read more. I didn’t fail at this completely last year, I was writing more consistently. Finished A novel, wrote half of another. There is still room for improvement though. Reading, again a mixed bag. There weren’t as many long stretches where I wasn’t reading as the year before. But I didn’t finish as many books as I would have liked. Hopefully that will change this year.

I want to get my work out there more. I have a decent amount of stories which still haven’t been seen and I want to make sure there is a consistent output. Also hopefully share my stories to more people. Maybe start uploading on different sites, or make more of an effort to publicise this site. I don’t know. It’s something I’m thinking about, but not coming up with much.

I also want to write more on here. I have a couple of ideas for posts that aren’t just updates and chapter uploads. Also maybe a few more book reviews than in the past as it’s more relevant to my passion. I think it’s important just to get as much stuff out there as possible.

Outside of writing, I have a few more aims this year. I want to get on top of my backlog of games, books and films that have piled up over the years. I’ve already started on this, but want to continue and hopefully get back to a point where I can buy new books without feeling guilty about the ones I haven’t read.

Limit the amount of time on social media. Again I’ve already started this. I deleted Facebook from my phone. I barely use twitter. I want to just use them to promote work and also speak to friends who I wouldn’t have another way of contacting. I think mostly it’s a time waster that doesn’t really achieve anything.

Another aim that I want to work towards is watching more classic films/read more classic books. Again this is something I do every year. This year I watched a lot of early films, Nosferatu and Citizen Kane. I read some of Franz Kafka.

We will see how many of these get forgotten about, probably more than I want to admit.

Thanks for reading,

AShley

 

 

 

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