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Specimen by Roald E Peterson Iii Out for a simple walk, Carl encounters two aliens hunting for scientific specimens to study, and they ... [3,882 words]
Insomnia by Jeremy Lee Henderson Where do writers get their ideas? Sometimes it's best you don't ask... [597 words]
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Image Obsessed by Paula M Shackleford A brief "Bridget Jones" moment. [816 words]
The Stone: Man Or Myth? by Lawrence Peters Continuing story of a legendary childhood friend, which will be updated as time and the... [1,956 words]
The Secret Admirer by Yolanda Sfetsos An admirer from afar? Or is he really a harmful stalker? [1,051 words]
The Island Of Avalon by Sandy Wasson a fictional tale, telling of the origin of avalon, along with a cute romance in it. [6,265 words]
The Battlefield Philosopher by David Gardiner We all had that poster of Che Guevara on our walls. We all wanted to fight for the ... [3,702 words]
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Am I Dreaming by Janae D Anthony dream or reality. [777 words]
A Sinner by Paula M Shackleford Janey feels smothered by the man in her life. Will He ever relinquish His hold on her? [1,432 words]
The Short Stories Of Mila Strictzer by Mike Strozier The Short Stories of Mila Strictzer, With a Preface by Tex Strozier: The T... [42,875 words]
The Gangster Prince by Sreenivasa Murthy Govindaraju An innocent girl who was on her way to her village was the victim of a gang rape. The leade... [1,664 words]
The Shadows by Christina L. Voigt Is there such a thing as life after death? [638 words]
Vega's Revenge by Olivia Geraghty It only looked easy... [718 words]
Two Days Of The Beginning Of My Life by Laura Peruzzi A teenage girl finds understanding in her surroundings after 48 hours of d... [1,486 words]
The Stubborn Old Man by Roxanne Kendrick About an old man and his daughter who wants to leave. Wrote it for classwork back in 1994. [761 words]
The Lies Of Sleeping Dogs by David Gardiner History is the attempt that each generation makes to come to terms with its past. Per... [4,992 words]
One Look by Timothy A. Lyzenga A basic view of humanity [1,199 words]
Klaas by Adagio This is a story I 'discovered' after noting the homeless in the city of Cape Town. I would appreciate any... [2,122 words]
Kate by Thomas J A man dies and attends his own funeral. [4,040 words]
Kate & Louis by Roxanne Kendrick I don't know how best to describe this story, except that it's a romance. So I've put the names of... [8,062 words]
Dream Park De Mattete by Rachel This is an almost love story between a Chinese ballet student and Japanese skating studen... [2,980 words]
All's Well... by Jan A. Tammen The end of the "Spooks" saga. Published by me alone, due to differences between the authors. For ... [1,173 words]
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Stan & Angy by Phoenix Rises When a satan falls in love with an angel. [1,388 words]
Gem 38 by Saaz - [4,108 words]
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The Karmic Wheel by Becka Roach Destiny unites two lovers who find each other in every lifetime. [974 words]
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Joe The Hatter & The Black Pearl by Lawrence Anthony Calabro - [12,748 words]
In The Light Of A Shadow: Showdown In The House Of God by Robert G Hagans This is the second chapter in the seris about a professi... [2,561 words]
Going Dancing by Becka Roach A young woman sets her sights on a handsome stranger. Their night of passion is one they will nev... [1,475 words]
E-Love by Rita A. Wheeler A shor-short story about internet love. [1,708 words]
Childhood Dreams by Adagio This is a short piece for those who fondly remember the past and try to relive it as often as ... [288 words]
Back Home by Becka Roach After months of being away, a young husband and wife become re-acquainted with one another. [1,703 words]
A Chance Meeting by Becka Roach What happens when two souls find one another after a life time of searching? Magic.... [1,077 words]

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After her father is killed by members of the Italian Mafia, Semara Menaratti is placed in the Witness Protection Program.
[1,173 words]
Laura Peruzzi
[June 2001]
Two Days Of The Beginning Of My Life (Short Stories) A teenage girl finds understanding in her surroundings after 48 hours of drunken adventures. [1,486 words] [Teenage]
Laura Peruzzi

  The warm Florida breeze blows peacefully today. Palm trees sway back and forth, dancing to the music streaming from my headphones. The
smoke from my cigarette flies wildly around, and as it escapes from my lips, creates beautiful shapes and patterns. My toes dig themselves into the hot sand. My mirrored glasses reflect the intense ball of sun and the crystal clear waves lined by foam that whoosh in from the ocean. The serene shade of blue of the sky is so relaxing; staring at it could put you to sleep.
  “Semara.” The calling of that name disturbs the calmness of this situation. I promptly sit up and snatch off my headphones. Funny, I could
hear the call through the blasting music. I scan the area, my heart racing, full of panic. My heart is beating so loudly I swear everyone around can hear it. No. I refuse to believe it. It’s just an illusion. It’s all in my head.
Someone is just calling for another Semara. Not me, it’s not me. But, really, how many people have that name? Calm down. My mind is just playing tricks on me. Calm down. I slowly and cautiously lay back down. The sunlight is blocked from me. The shadow of a tall figure behind me lays itself upon me.
  “You’re blocking my sun,” I say, with a hint of playfulness. I begin to sit up when suddenly I feel the ice-cold metal barrel of a gun pressed against the back of my neck. I’m frozen. Paralyzed. I cannot move, think, or even breathe. My spine shivers and pure terror fills my gut, fills my heart.
  “Semara, I thought it was you. I called your name but I guess I forgot that you wouldn’t be responding to that name anymore, right? So I decided should come over and well…”
  “How…How…H-How did you find me?” I barely made out what might be the last question I’d ever ask.
  “Well, let’s not worry about that. You know what they say…you can run,” he leans in closer and whispers in my ear, “but you can’t hide.”
BANG! He shoots once. BANG! He shoots twice…

  “Aaaaaahh!” I wake up. I’m soaked in sweat. My hair matted against my head. The dark green sheet sticks against my body. I’m breathing
heavily. I wish I would just die in my dreams, then I wouldn’t have anymore of these fucking nightmares! I get out of bed and get in the shower. The steaming hot water washes away all the sweat, all the fears. Washes away Semara Menaratti, the girl lost in my past. That was such a beautiful name too. But now my name is Kristen Johnson, and if that doesn’t sound a little too ordinary.
  About a year ago, my father was murdered by members of the Italian mafia, of which he was a prominent figure himself. I witnessed the murder and went to the police. Since my eyewitness testimony was the only evidence in the trial, I was a key element in the prosecution of those men. The police said that my life was in danger because the men who killed my father were looking for me, to make sure that there would be no trial. It was then that I was placed in the Witness Protection Program. I did not get to go to my father’s funeral. It would have been the first place anyone would expect me to be. Instead, I was transported to the Witness Protection main facility. I was picked up in a large white van, which had dark curtains on the windows that enclosed and hid me. They did not tell me where I was going. They didn’t tell me much of anything until we got there. The time passed by so incredibly slowly. We must have been on the road for at least 5 hours. Near the end I recall frequent stops and the noise of electric gates. And then the van stopped.
The side door of the van was opened for me and I got out to find myself in what appeared to be a large garage or warehouse. I never got to see the outside, or most of the inside of the facility. I was limited to the living area
that was to be my temporary home for the next few weeks while Semara Menaratti was erased, and Kristen Johnson was created.
   I was not allowed to contact anyone because of the risk of being found. I don’t think I had ever been lonelier in my life. I tried to passed the time thinking about my past and remembering. I had to cut off my relationships with all my friends, and my family, which I didn’t have much of in the beginning. My mother had died of breast cancer when I was
thirteen. And my father was never really home anyway, and when he was, we were fighting. After my mother died, we moved to a really rich town,
one where the grass is always green and freshly cut, and there are golf courses ad country clubs and everything looks plastic. I made friends at
school and met people in my neighborhood. I met a girl who lived two houses down named Danielle. She introduced me to most of her friends. I
remember one of her friends, Paul. We would go over his house and he’d make us line up his cocaine. He always called me beautiful. He overdosed and died three months after I met him. Danielle had a lot of money to throw around, especially on drugs. She was big on heroin. I wasn’t all that interested in drugs that heavy, but she was good company, most of the time.
I’ll never forget Victor. He lived a couple blocks away. His parents had gotten in trouble with the law over drug charges, so they fled the
country and went to Venezuela, leaving him the house and the Mercedes. I spent a lot of time over there. I stayed friends with him for a while, well until now.
  My teen years were full of drugs, sex, and alcohol. My childhood years, full of confusion.
I now live in an apartment in south Florida where I am enrolled in a community college, and keep a low profile. The trial is a month away, and I
am very nervous. I have been having these nightmares for a while. I am just too tense. I need to relax, unwind. I pack up a few essentials and take a drive to the beach. This is how I escape; I let the sun bake my troubles
away. It such a beautiful day too. The serene shade of blue of the sky is so relaxing; staring at it could put you to sleep. It is so beautiful outside. I turn the volume all the way up on my headphones.
 I just want to relax, not be bothered by anything. But the shadow of a tall figure behind me lays itself upon me…



"I'm interested to receve the parole of Laura Peruzzi: PERQUI" -- fatimi ahmed, casablanca, ben msik, morocco.


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© 2000 Laura Peruzzi
June 2001

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