Party at the Gravelpit
It was Saturday night and I found myself down at the old gravelyard.It's where
I spent every Saturday, partying with my friends, drinking till we puked.
Oh yeah.Good times.The music blared so loud you couldn't even hear what
the person next to you was saying.So I took another swig of
my drink, vodka and seven-up and made a slow, visual sweep of the area.
Then I saw him, he was wearing a brown leather jacket over an acdc shirt.
He had scruffy dark hair and smoldering eyes.He caught me staring at him and
smiled.I didn't look away.I took another swig of my drink and licked my lips.
He started making his way through the crowd,inching ever closer.I felt my
heartbeat quicken and when he said 'hi' I almost gasped in my excitement.
He leaned closer,his lips brushing across my ear and he whispered 'got a light?'
I nodded and reached into my jacket pocket for my lighter.He pulled out a
cigarette and placed it between his lips.My hand trembled slightly as I tried
to light it causing him to place his hand on mine to steady it.He offered me a
cigarrette from his pack but I shook my head no.He took my hand and began to
lead me away from the deafening loudness of the music and the crowd.
I didn't resist.I could smell his cologne,it was sweet and yet spicy.I breathed
in deeply wanting to savor everything about this mysterious guy.
When we were finally far enough from the noise that we could hear each other
speak, he stopped and we sat down on the back of some truck.But we didn't
say anything.I took another drink, he finshed his smoke and then he turned to me.
Placing one hand on my thigh and the other on my neck he leaned closer,pressing
his soft,wet lips against mine.I sighed and wrapped my arms around him, bringing
him even closer against me.As he slid his tongue into my mouth, I reached into
my arm sleeve and removed the knife I had concealed there.I grasped it tighlty
in my right hand as I plunged it into his back, muffling his scream with my mouth.
He pushed away from me, a look of fear and shock washed across his face.He stumbled
to the ground, cried out for help but noone could hear him above the music.
I watched as his life oozed out of him and he gasped his final breath.
Then I reached into his pockets, taking every cent and dollar I could find.Hey, how else
could I afford the vodka every weekend.I pulled my knife out of his back, wiped the
blood off on the grass and hid it back inside my coat sleeve.
For a moment, I felt a twinge of regret but then it passed.I lit a smoke, took a long,deep
drag and strolled back to the party to get a refill on my drink.
I spent every Saturday, partying with my friends, drinking till we puked.
Oh yeah.Good times.The music blared so loud you couldn't even hear what
the person next to you was saying.So I took another swig of
my drink, vodka and seven-up and made a slow, visual sweep of the area.
Then I saw him, he was wearing a brown leather jacket over an acdc shirt.
He had scruffy dark hair and smoldering eyes.He caught me staring at him and
smiled.I didn't look away.I took another swig of my drink and licked my lips.
He started making his way through the crowd,inching ever closer.I felt my
heartbeat quicken and when he said 'hi' I almost gasped in my excitement.
He leaned closer,his lips brushing across my ear and he whispered 'got a light?'
I nodded and reached into my jacket pocket for my lighter.He pulled out a
cigarette and placed it between his lips.My hand trembled slightly as I tried
to light it causing him to place his hand on mine to steady it.He offered me a
cigarrette from his pack but I shook my head no.He took my hand and began to
lead me away from the deafening loudness of the music and the crowd.
I didn't resist.I could smell his cologne,it was sweet and yet spicy.I breathed
in deeply wanting to savor everything about this mysterious guy.
When we were finally far enough from the noise that we could hear each other
speak, he stopped and we sat down on the back of some truck.But we didn't
say anything.I took another drink, he finshed his smoke and then he turned to me.
Placing one hand on my thigh and the other on my neck he leaned closer,pressing
his soft,wet lips against mine.I sighed and wrapped my arms around him, bringing
him even closer against me.As he slid his tongue into my mouth, I reached into
my arm sleeve and removed the knife I had concealed there.I grasped it tighlty
in my right hand as I plunged it into his back, muffling his scream with my mouth.
He pushed away from me, a look of fear and shock washed across his face.He stumbled
to the ground, cried out for help but noone could hear him above the music.
I watched as his life oozed out of him and he gasped his final breath.
Then I reached into his pockets, taking every cent and dollar I could find.Hey, how else
could I afford the vodka every weekend.I pulled my knife out of his back, wiped the
blood off on the grass and hid it back inside my coat sleeve.
For a moment, I felt a twinge of regret but then it passed.I lit a smoke, took a long,deep
drag and strolled back to the party to get a refill on my drink.
Ohhh, shiver. A psychotic seriously alcoholic female serial killer~We need more of those. Women have been under-represented in that field. This is not from real life is it? 
The following comments are nothing against you and really not a critique. They are more like personal impressions. I just didn't like the story and feel that someone else could give a serious helpful appraisal of your writing skills.
Dudette, first off... This was awfully hard to read without spaces. It's not 'cute', it's annoying.
You have a good idea but the story was static. It had no vitality in the interactions of the characters. They seemed flat and boring. Maybe you could make the two protagonists talk to each other instead of relating the events. Redink said, show me, don't tell me. Good advice.
On the better side, I liked the concept. Freaky! You could really do something with a story like this.
On a sidenote: It takes a brave person to put their stories out there in public. I may not care for it but there will be others that do. And it's what you think that counts. There have been dozens of well known people who were told various uncomplimentary things about their work and yet they are now famous. The critic is unknown and unapplauded.
Sorry I'm not more helpful.
Thank you for sharing.
The following comments are nothing against you and really not a critique. They are more like personal impressions. I just didn't like the story and feel that someone else could give a serious helpful appraisal of your writing skills.
Dudette, first off... This was awfully hard to read without spaces. It's not 'cute', it's annoying.
You have a good idea but the story was static. It had no vitality in the interactions of the characters. They seemed flat and boring. Maybe you could make the two protagonists talk to each other instead of relating the events. Redink said, show me, don't tell me. Good advice.
On the better side, I liked the concept. Freaky! You could really do something with a story like this.
On a sidenote: It takes a brave person to put their stories out there in public. I may not care for it but there will be others that do. And it's what you think that counts. There have been dozens of well known people who were told various uncomplimentary things about their work and yet they are now famous. The critic is unknown and unapplauded.
Sorry I'm not more helpful.
Thank you for sharing.
Actually I'm not much of a story teller and I wrote the above story within a few minutes.It was starting to head in a sexual direction(which is usually where my fantasies go)so I decided to change it to a murder.After all,it wouldn't be appropiate for me to share porn but an all out bloodly,senseless murder is probably more socially acceptable,eh? 
