Fiction/Collaborative Fiction

Trapped

Collaborative fiction—Twilight Zone-style…(Writers—come play!)

“Let’s get away for the weekend,” he said. “It’ll be fun!” he said.

Yet here we sit in this shit hole diner — albeit charming — stuck in a blizzard. I can’t even look at him right now.

I’m so pissed.

I wanted to go to Marie’s party on Saturday. I wanted to get dressed up in a cute slutty dress, drink a crap ton of wine, and dance the night away in a wasted frenzy.

But no. Charlie wanted to go to the mountains. For alone time. He said it would be romantic, but I know…I know he just wanted to go skiing. I’m not stupid.

“Amy…”

Charlie had been busy going from window to window, scoping out the situation. The diner sat alone on the empty road — a beacon for traveling truck drivers, but tonight its presence diminished by the weight of the snow.

“Amy, look at me.”

She looked up, well aware the only other person in the dimly lit building was looking too.

“It’s going to be OK.”

“I really don’t care, Charlie.”

“Come on, Ame.”

“Dude, whatever. I didn’t even want to come on this stupid trip. You basically forced me.”

A shadow loomed above. “You’ze want coffee?”

Charlie flashed a toothy grin at her while zeroing in on her name tag.

“Gosh, Tina. That’d be great. Thanks so much! Ame?”

“Nope.”

What would I have to pay Tina girl to slip some rat poison into Charlie’s coffee? OK, too far. But, no, right? And why does she keep looking over here? It’s too weird.

“What’re you’ze doin’ out in this anyways?”

(Is she flirting?)

Charlie shrugged, “It was supposed to be a romantic weekend away.”

He motioned her close and she leaned in as he whispered something in her ear. She snapped her gum as she slyly looked at Amy.

“Huh. Yeah, well. Bad weekent fer it. Ya shouldn’ta come.”

“No shit, Tina.” Amy was starting to lose her cool. Despite Charlie not doing what she wanted to do, it’s not like they looked up the closest blizzard to drive through or anything.

Charlie wiped the dew-covered window. “Something doesn’t feel right.”

Amy didn’t respond. She felt it too.

“Amy, do you see that?”

She peered out the window in the direction he was looking.

“No—what are you…”

“Ah, nothing. It was just my eyes. I think four hours in the diner is making me a bit crazy.”

“Twenty-four.”

They snapped their heads toward Tina, who sat smugly on the counter.

“What?”

“Too-wenny-four. It’s been 24 hours.”

“Oh, come on,” laughed Charlie.

She nodded over at the clock as she poured his coffee.

“I don’t understand what’s happening. This is a joke — she’s pulling our leg out of boredom. It makes no sense,” Amy whispered.

“Do you see those lights?”

Tina couldn’t see the lights Charlie was focusing on. “Do you hear that sound?” she responded.

“What sound?”

“It’s…it’s like, voices? Screaming. Voices screaming. You can’t hear that?”

Tina rolled her eyes. “So you’ze are seein’ lights an’ hearing noises. Great.”

She went back to wiping down the counter. Amy stood up quickly, brushing nothing from her pants as she quickly sauntered over to where Tina worked. She plopped herself down on the middle seat with a duct tape scar.

“Jesus Christ, Amy.”

He lit a cigarette as he stared back out the window from their booth.

“Shut up, Charles.”

Tina did not look up until Amy loudly cleared her throat.

“Yeah, what. More coffee er…”

“Yeah, no. What’s your deal?”

“Dunno. Nothin.”

“No no. What’s this. What’s going on here?”

“Storm. Seems to me.”

Amy glanced back at Charlie. He glanced back, rolling his eyes.

“This is some creepy-ass shit, ya ask me. Here we are, in the middle of nowhere, stuck with you in this shitty diner in a snowstorm, where you claim we’ve been for 24 hours — which is totally not true—and where are the customers, Tina? Where are the trucks? Where are the trucks?”

“Jesus, Ame, come sit down. Leave her be, for Christ’s sake.”

Amy jumped up, seething at Charlie, “Some romantic weekend, Charlie. Great idea, Charlie…”

“Dude. Just calm down. You’re losing control. Cut it out. Take a nap. This will die down soon enough. We can just head home. I’m sorry. I’m sorry this weekend turned out this way. Come ‘ere. Come on. Come here.”

Amy took a deep breath. “I’m sorry, Chewy.”

As she started to slide in next to him, her gaze fixed on something outside.

“Oh my God…what…what is that. What is that!?”

A deadly chill filled the air.

[TAG, you’re IT! Comment if you would like to continue with the next part of the story!]

cc: QuickTalk Writers: Gaurav Jain, Alex Frederickson, Sam Ochstein, Rane Kelze, Heather Martin (@cadenzacreates), Janice Tovey, srstowers, Janet Meisel, Amanda Payne, Madara Greer Sr., Alan Simpson, Chrissie Marie Massey, Ellen Baker, Danielle Monique, Susan McCorkindale, Krystyn Lowe, Stella Atrewu, Cendrine Marrouat, Megan Llorente

P.S.: Thank you G, for your guidance. Bazinga!