A Game of Writing Tag

I offer a sincere apology to Melissa Barker-Simpson. When I initially published this post, I inadvertently got her first name wrong. I guess my fingers weren’t attached to my brain at the time. It’s a lesson well learned. Always, ALWAYS check the person’s name at least twice before you hit the button!

I follow Melissa Barker-Simpson’s blog and she posted this:

“I  know I’ve posted enough today, but as I was visiting a few of the contributors to Stream of Consciousness Saturday, I couldn’t resist a challenge posed by Doobster over at Mindful Digressions. In response to the prompt (the incorporation of scene or seen), Doobster wrote a piece of flash fiction. Readers of the story were curious about what happened next and the challenge is simple – continue where the story left off and either complete the tale or keep it going. I’ve posted the original story below, and added an installment beneath. If you would like to carry it on, please feel free. It’s the kind of ‘game’ I can never resist!”

I decided to take the challenge and wrote Part 3 of the ongoing story. Here is a link to the first two parts of I Seen It All as presented by Doobster and Melissa Barker-Simpson. Be sure to read those first. Then come back and read Part 3 below:

I Seen It All, Part 3

How much could a little boy have seen? “Over here, please,” Detective Morrisey said, encouraging them to walk as far away from the crowd as they could. “No one will hear us. What did you see?”

Ralph felt the tug of Henry’s hand as he refused to let go. He had finally caught his breath but was clearly agitated. “I seen them with her.”

Detective Morrisey’s eyebrows went up. “How many people?”

“Two men,” Henry replied confidently. “I seen them.”

Ralph’s gaze snapped around, and he peered into the crowd, looking for guilty faces or bloodied hands and shirts. Would the murderers hang around, or would they have disappeared down a quiet alley?

Henry pointed to the body lying on the ground where police were taking pictures and gathering evidence. “They were walking and talking. She yelled—” he leaned toward Ralph – “like Mom yells at Dad when he don’t take his muddy boots off.” He looked up at the detective. “They grabbed her arms.”

The detective was growing increasingly concerned. “What did they do to next?”

“They had a knife and she seen it.”

Ralph listened to Henry’s description and felt more than the prickling on the back of his neck. He was afraid, the first tendrils knotting in his stomach. He and Henry could be in real danger.

Detective Morrisey glanced at the crime scene and his brow lowered. “This is real important—what did you say your name was?”

“Henry,” he said proudly, his chin lifting. “He’s Ralphie.”

“Now, Henry,” the detective said with a gentle tone, “this is very important. Think real hard. Could you hear what they were saying? Any words at all?”

Thinking, Henry went quiet for a moment before shaking his head. “She got scared and tried to run away.”

“Did she ever call out for help? No?”

Henry swallowed hard. “They stabbed her. I seen it. Like this,” he said, demonstrating with his hand the path of the knife through the woman’s white blouse into her heart.

Ralph began to shiver. What if the men had seen Henry? They had to go home eventually. What if they were followed? Would the two men lie in wait and kill them, too? He suddenly felt the urge to run away and turned his back to the crowd, as if having no interest at all.

“If you saw the two men again, would you recognize them?”

Henry nodded and wiggled a hooked finger for the detective to come closer. “They’re over there.”

Goosebumps rushed over Detective Morrisey, and he found himself whispering, too, with urgency. “Where?”

Henry brought up his hand up to shield his mouth as if sharing a prized secret. “By the hardware store . . .”

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Join in the fun! Write Part 4. Tell us what happens to the two cousins after they speak to Detective Morrisey.

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