Prostitute Turned Death's Wife

Preview of a big project

She told him lets go for a ride. The man had not heard those words part from a pair of pretty red lips since the passing of his late soul mate. So the lonely man agreed. As she opened his door, the fella knew it was only a matter of time before he would close hers. Following the prostitute’s entrance into the car, without hesitation the man slid a wedding ring on her finger and identified her as Sharlene. Then he began to fix her hair.

 

Sharlene became fairly skeptical about this odd man. Sadly having two small children with no ends to meet fueled her motivation to continue the ride.

On the way to the disclosed location, the lonely man pulled up outside of a florist shop and told Sharlene to sit tight. While waiting she could not help but notice the pretty black dress folded neatly in the back seat. Giving off an aroma of death. Telling a story that pushes beyond the ethical boundaries of the after-life when shared with the live and well.

 

This dress could care less, wanting Sharlene to know it had been there and back. Been where? She would soon find out. Suddenly Sharlene received an indescribable chill. So she turned on the heat. Sharlene had no time for a mental breakdown. The odd man was making his way out of the florist shop with black roses, in a black suit. The prostitute turned Sharlene had never seen knowledge beyond a 6th grade education, though she knew enough to come to the conclusion that sex was not a desire of the fine tailored man. What was Sharlene to do? Cry out? She could, but only the October air would hear her call.

 

The lonely man got back in the car and still did not open his mouth to say a word. The longer the ride, the more Sharlene began to contemplate. Finally the man reached his hand out to touch her fine skin. Then he gazed into her eyes as he told her how her skin reminded him of a fancy Scotch, Golden brown. He insisted they should grow old together, assuring Sharlene it would be like old times.

 

Sharlene began to feel wanted, loved, Secure. The feeling only lasted for a split second. She refused to pull her guard down as she often did her panties. Knowing it could determine either life or death...But she had to know. Do you love me? She asked. The strange man focused on the road for a good mile before he replied with a dry yes. Hearing I love "you" instead of I love "your" was a new experience for Sharlene. Like snorting a line for the first time, she was now carefree. Feeling good...Numb.

 

Sharlene closed her eyes and reached in for a kiss, when she opened them she could not recall what had happened. Sharlene was unaware of her surroundings, lying motionless while blindly staring at the ceiling mirror. The aroma that Sharlene had become well acquainted with in the car, made its presence known once more. Out of instinct she attempted to lift her head, the attempt failed. Next she tried moving her fingers, the attempt failed. In a state of panic Sharlene took a second look at the ceiling mirror, for her eyes were the only moveable objects on her body. Sharlene discovered she was now wearing the black dress while nested comfortably in a casket. Finally the lonely man stepped foot into the room. Allowing his mystery like persona to go free.

 

The lonely man made it known to poor Sharlene that he had missed her funeral the first time, and refused to make the same mistake twice. She dropped a few tears, refraining from attempting to scream or putting up a fight. She knew it was all pointless. She had no feeling. The odd man injected the final dose of poison into Sharlene's vein before walking away. The last thing she would recall alive was the sound of the organ. Eventually the mourning sound became unrecognizable to Sharlene. Her vision suddenly blurred. She was slipping away...

Reviews

[Angie Diane♥&hea..]

This was a good read. I can't wait to read more of it. It was twisted and dark, but it still held suspense. I really enjoyed this. Thanks for sharing.