Short Story From The Diary of Brooke Belmont

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I’m was so tired of driving I finally pulled over and found a motel off Highway 65.I was headed South to Florida. Miami of course, it was popular and I wanted a change. I love fast cities; New York was too cold and I loved the EastCoast. Miami was the best choice, I could live with hurricanes. I walked into the old Countryside Inn to a shabby worn down front desk. I made small talk while the older gentlemen checked me in. The good old fashion way just a simple form and pen. I got the keys and headed to room 34. I walked into the room; pink and white flower wallpapers lined the walls. The traditional set up, queen bed, and nightstands on each side. I rubbed my hands across the dark forest green comforter. I flopped onto the bed. My leg was killing me. “Talking a bullet is no joke.” I said to myself popping a Tylenol 3 into my mouth. Hell I didn’t even know they still made these. “Damn, I see what it’s like to be in Cameron’s shoes. Cameron, Cameron Jones I thought you were the love of my life. Early this morning you wrapped your hands around my neck. Taking my breathe away,hurting my heart, and tainting my soul. What are you gonna do when they don’t find my body? When I don’t make the news? You are a poor excuse and you think you are soooo smart. You had my body before strangling me. You left evidence, maybe you avoided the cameras, but Cameron it doesn’t matter, because I know the secret that you are keeping. Because no one ever tells, but let me tell you something Mr.Jones I’m coming for you. You will not know the time but I promise you I will strike like a thief in the night. Maybe God will spare you, like me.” The pain pills had me dozing in and out. I closed my eyes for the night.

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