My first attempt at entering a writing contest was the Flash Fiction Challenge 2016.  Here is my Round One story.  Assignment was to write a short story in the suspense genre, with the setting a plastic surgery center, and use a tire iron in the story.   I would rate this a super great learning experience.

Murder by Tire Iron

A rich older wife and a poor, but handsome young husband.  Plastic surgery, money and escalating tension leads to murder, or does it?

Afternoon

Bea Williams was miserable. She needed pain meds now! Yesterday’s surgery was supposed to be minor. But she hurt all over. Her head was exploding. Nothing was going as planned. Even her husband was late.

“Hello Luv”. Cockney tones announced Albert’s presence. “Feelin’ better?”

“You’re late?” Bea snapped. “Where’s my bag?”

“Right ’ere, sweeffeart” he held out a large tote bag. “bit of trouble wiv the motorcar, luv. ’ad a flat”.

A loud clunk startled Bea, as Albert dropped the bag in her lap. She opened it. A tire iron! Bea looked up in time to catch the satisfied look on Albert’s face.

“Blimey! Must ’ave slipped in by accident. Tossed it on the bloody rear seat.” He laughed and grabbed it, waving it like a baton.

“Stop that, you fool! You almost hit me.” She stared at Albert. What was he up to?

“Don’t get yor knickers in a twist!” He dropped the tool beside her. ”Hate ter brin’ this up, sweeffeart, but ah find mahse’f slightly embarrassed, short of the bloomin’ brass, yer know.

Bea fumed. The pain in her head surged. She couldn’t think. “You’re spending my money like water. I slaved to become a star. Scrimped and saved. I won’t let you waste it on your juvenile hobbies.”

“Better ter drop a bit at the bloomin’ track. This is a waste.” he glared at the luxury decor of the plastic surgery center room.

“It’s not wasted! It’s for my image! My public!”

“Whut public is thet? Yor agents ‘ad the mockers put on callin’ long ago!”

“That’s not true!” She seized the tire iron and heaved it at Albert. It clanged to the floor at his feet.

Albert scooped it up, “I’m not livin’ in yor fantasy, Bea! Don’t say yer do it for me eever, as I couldn’t care less about yor graceless fight ter stay young”.

“I could kill you for that!”

“Killin’ is it? Two can play that game. Pardon me for not stayin’. This visit ’as been such a pleasure”. He slipped the tool in her bag and left.

Early Evening

Bea watched the aide clear away her tray. Thank God the meds had eased her headache.

“Oh Miss Williams. You starred in that movie. right?” The aide clattered dishes. “She’s No Angel?” She grinned. “One of my favorites. My mom rented it for my tenth birthday.”

Bea had smiled, flattered, but the reference to age changed her expression to a frown.

“Please go!” She motioned the aide to leave.

The aide looked surprised. “It have to check the IV” she stuttered.

Albert had entered unnoticed. “Enjoyin’ yorself darlin’?”.

Bea bit back a nasty retort in front of the aide. “Of course, Darling! What are you doing here?”

Albert smiled disdainfully. “Angel were a perfect role for yer.” “ Why yer could just be yorself and ’ave a look brilliant”.

“You’re a rat. Albert!” Bea’s lips curled into a snarl.

Albert moved behind the aide, and reached to finger the IV line. “Woss in ’ere luv?”. He leaned closer to the aide.

“Oh! Uh. Antibiotic. To prevent infection”.

Stop touching it! Please stop. “Don’t distract the nurse. Albert!” Bea said loudly.

“O’course. Luv”. “Drugs are nuffink ter mess about wiv right?” he said, patting the aides shoulder. ”Why, I’ve ’eard tell blokes ‘ave died from the bloody wrong drugs’.

Bea shivered. She pulled the covers higher. He was threatening her. Couldn’t the aide see that?.

Albert picked up her tote bag. He slipped the tire iron out. “Peraps I should take this fin’ ’ome.”

“Shove it!” Bea broke off, eying the shocked nurse.

“I know just wot I want ter do wiv it. Darlin’” Albert let the tool fall to the floor. He stared at his wife, then left the room without speaking.

Night

Bea woke disoriented. Her head throbbing with pain. Those damn nurses. I need more meds! She squeezed her temples. “I can’t stand this!” she croaked. Her throat was so dry she could barely make a sound.

Sitting up abruptly, she fumbled for the call light. “I can’t see a damn thing” she muttered. Something was wrong with her eyes. Everything was out of focus. Blearily she stared around. The only light in the room came from images flashing on the muted TV.

In the chair. Was that Albert? What was he doing here? My God, he’s come back to kill me. He sneaked back to get rid of me so he can have my money. Pain and nausea overwhelmed her. She tried to be calm, but her mind was racing. The nurse will come. He can’t do anything if she’s here.

Why doesn’t she come? No one’s here to stop him. I have to get out of here. Bea staggered from the bed, then stopped, her gaze locked on the tire iron laying on the floor by the bed. Blackness darkened the edges of her vision as she bent to pick up the tool.

“It’s fate, I have to defend myself”. Slowly, slowly, she approached the figure in the chair. She raised the tool above her head, ready to strike. “Goodbye Albert, why couldn’t you really care about me.” she whispered, then used all her strength to bring the tire iron down with killing force.

“God! God! So much blood! What have I done?” Bea collapsed unconscious to the floor.

Next Morning

“Sorry for your loss Mr. Williams” the young doctor, extended his hand. ”We won’t know until the autopsy, but your wife probably had a brain aneurism. From the strange behavior the nurses reported last night, we think she was hallucinating.

Albert nodded and shook his hand. He noticed, the doctor’s startled look when he saw a tire iron poking out of the tote bag slung from Albert’s shoulder. “It never ceases ter amaze me wot wives carry in their bags”, Albert said with a quiet smile. “Thanks doc, fer all yor ’elp.”

The End

REVIEWS

Well, here is the judges feedback on my 1st story.  I received zero points for it.   There were over 100 people in my group and 15 received points.  So looking on the bright side, maybe mine was 16th!

Dear Wava Devin,

The feedback from the judges on your Flash Fiction Challenge 2016 submission from Challenge #1 is below.  We hope you find the feedback helpful and best of luck in Challenge #2 this weekend!

”Murder by Tire Iron” by Wava Devin

WHAT THE JUDGES LIKED ABOUT YOUR STORY –                                                                {1504}  I like the morning-afternoon-night format. The bickering between Albert and Bea creates a sense of foreboding. I like the suspense that builds when Bea awakens.… 

 {220}  I like the clear, active tone in which Bea’s inner-narrative is written. I feel immediately in place with her when I start the story.  The marked headline separation of AFTERNOON and EARLY EVENING is sort of unconventional for this format in fiction–but I actually kind of like it. It sort of gives me a solid hold as to where I am in the story and seems kind of fun and teleplay-like.  I like how the tempestuous relationship between Bea and Albert is captured.

{1656}  The story followed the prompts well. It also had enough plot to sustain some narrative momentum.…

WHAT THE JUDGES FEEL NEEDS WORK –                                                                                     {1504}  The title reveals too much of the plot. Albert’s accent is a speed bump. It’s not clear who was in the chair.…                                                                                                     {220}  Formatting could use some revision. Dialogue paragraphs shouldn’t be paced so far apart.  I like the phonetic representation of the Cockney accent…but I think the language couldn’t have been simplified a bit. There is an over-phoneticization in some lines of dialogue that become overwhelming from a reader’s perspective.  When Bea’s inner-monologue muses that she is being threatened and wonders why the aid doesn’t notice…I think the writing doesn’t need to plainly spell out that he’s threatening her. It seems over-telling and less suspenseful.  I think Albert’s dialogue about the drugs is enough to warrant suspicion–and then the physical action of Bea pulling the covers higher over her.  Not sure if I like the ending. I think there is a lack of motivation and character development on Bea’s part to warrant such a violence and intense decision. Yes, she has established that she thinks her husband is menacing and might be after her money…but their banter leading up to this ending is more akin to their distaste for each other…rather than murderous hate.…

{1656}  The dialect and overall use of dialogue weakened the story considerably. The balance was off, throughout, since the story lacked character development or setting at the expense of the dialogue and dialect.…