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Blog Entry #45 : Dear Sweet Diana [Writer's Jam 2024]

Posted by hypnadot - 8 days ago


Word Count : 3,031

Prompts : Glass/Defiance/Showdown

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Hello, Razing Squad! James here! Welcome back to my demolition blog!


I know some of you guys have been wondering where I’ve been and why I haven’t wished you all a happy Fourth of July. For anyone out there who watches the local New Jersey news, you may already know the deal.


Long story short, my sis and I were recovering at the hospital. A few days ago, I had one of the most surreal job experiences of my life and it sucks knowing I roped a part of my family into it. However, I’m glad we’re both fine now, living to tell the tale. Stick around because here comes the long story!


Now, many of you Razing Squad veterans know David, my muscular partner in crime when it’s demolition time. Of course, he was working with me that day as he has been for the past five years.


David and I were close to fully leveling this huge piece of land in the middle of Camden, New Jersey. A gigantic call center was going to replace the rubble. Like every other task in the summer season, it was so important that we’d forget about the unbearably hot sun above us. A little hard work then and there and it quickly became 12 PM, our first and only lunch break.


We ate food inside the trusty wrecking ball crane, our usual spot. David has such a close attachment to this yellow machine. He would always cram his feelings into our conversations while referring to it as “Diana”.


Now, Diana has been used by us for the same amount of time we’ve known each other. So, I understood the bond until he put his caesar salad down to caress her controls like a weirdo.


“Dear sweet Diana,” whispered David. “You keep me hanging on.”


I was close to vomiting my chicken back up so I quickly changed the subject to my sister, Janice. Even though I love her, the rest of my family can’t stand her rambling about the terrible living conditions at her apartment. She has grown so accustomed to them that she could care less if I spill it out on my blog.


David asked me, “What’s going on with her now, James? Bugs? Rats? Mold?”


“Nope.” I replied. “She’s literally crafting art out of dust bunnies now and apparently the ‘dust material’ in her home hasn’t been ‘authentic enough for her vision lately.’”


David squinted his eyes to show bewilderedness. “The hell does that mean?”


When I told him I was just as confused as he was, we laughed it off. Janice’s kookiness was always a baffling yet entertaining topic for the both of us. 


Before we even knew it, it was 1 PM. Time to get back to work! We put our orange helmets back on and readied up.


From the distance of the crane, we could see the last structure standing : a prismatic glass house with a shiny red tint and an aura that screamed vacancy. At least we thought it was vacant.


Eager to get the job well done with his reliable Diana, David offered to drive straight to the house. We were slowly moving on top of the rough terrain. The wrecking ball bounced and swayed back and forth as if the crane couldn’t wait to call it a day.


Closer and closer we approached the glass until I abruptly raised my arm and shouted, “STOP!”


David and I felt the sharp recoil as he made Diana halt completely. Our sweat from our hours of work splattered all over the crane’s windshield.


Startled, David slurred, “What?! What’s up?!”


I slowly pointed at the house and responded, “There’s a man in there.”


We wiped the windshield with our sleeves and couldn’t believe what we saw. Why was this gray-haired elder sitting in a chair like we weren’t about to commit manslaughter? Where did he come from? How did he sneak past us?


“Man, I thought our boss told us no one else would be here.” David said with a slightly frustrated tone.


“Chill. He must be lost or homeless maybe.” I guessed. “Come on. Let’s go get him out of there.”


With a childish sigh and a kiss blown to Diana, David began following my lead to the glasshouse door. At that point, the temperature was feeling hotter than usual. Whatever this old man’s story was, I was hoping it would be good.


The house looked even more peculiar up close. The tint was so strong that everything inside, including the skinny elder, looked bright red. There was nothing we could see in the living room except desks and bookshelves varying in sizes and amounts of dust.


I was able to knock twice on the entrance before the heat conduction of the glass traveled to my knuckles. “OW!”


That got the attention of the old dude. He stared at us dead for a few seconds before adjusting his chair enough to hide himself from our sight.


“HEY!” David shouted as he punched the glass without flinching. “You’re not supposed to be here, sir! You need to-!” Before he could finish that sentence, the man stood up and looked at us, cocking a huge sawed-off shotgun in his hands to our surprise.


“I HAVE A GUN!” He yelled in the thickest Southern accent I have ever heard. Keep in mind that we were operating in New Jersey and this dude not only announced his gun like we couldn’t see it but he sounded like he originated from the deepest crevice in Texas. It made his existence even more confusing to me personally but I digress.


I immediately tried to de-escalate the situation. “Listen, sir. We’re a demolition crew. I’m James and this is David. We-”


“I DON’T GIVE A RAT’S ASS WHO YOU ARE! NOW GIT!” As he screamed to the top of his lungs, I noticed a crack forming in the glass. Before I could tell David, he intervened in his own way.


“YOU GIT! Look around, man. Can you not see we have a job to do?!”


“What? You’re threatening my livelihood, boy?” asked the man, walking closer to the door step by step.


“Threatening?” I said, raising my hands up in the air. “You’re the one with the gun.”


Suddenly, the man picked up speed and pressed his skin and shotgun to the glass door.  He angrily cried out, “DON’T YOU BACK-SASS ME, BOY!”


The sun was getting hotter and the crack was getting bigger. David, however, was too focused on having stern eye contact with the old guy. If looks could kill.


“Lay off, man!” David intervened once again. “Leave before we call the police!”


The old dude was too defiant for a day like this. “YOU leave before I shove that deformed-looking wrecking ball up your ASS!”


David silently stood there. Bringing Diana into this literally heated argument was taking it too far. The man’s expression got more smug, seeing that he blatantly hit David where it hurt.


The crack disappeared as the man’s grin grew larger. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. But, my priorities changed as David stared at the man like he was trying to telepathically blow his head up. I needed to calm him down.


“He’s not worth it. He’s not worth it.” I said repeatedly. “Listen. Let’s just call the boss and the police, okay? They’ll help us-”


Outraged, David quickly ran back to the crane. My words were obviously falling on deaf ears.


From the distance, I could see him angrily turning the crane back on, ready to smash the house into tiny pieces.


“I’LL SHOW YOU DEFORMED!” David yelled, causing an echo for miles.


Despite my loud pleas to get him to stop, David made up his mind. I had no choice but to run for cover. As I dashed away, the elder didn’t even move at the thought of the house tumbling down above him. He had his firearm to his side, smirking like a person who won a petty argument.


I zoomed into a transparent phone booth nearby and closed my eyes. It didn’t even register to me as a phone booth since everything was happening so quickly. My ears heard a thunderous shatter. But, it didn’t sound like glass. It sounded like stone.


I reopened my eyes slowly and I gasped. I could barely process the sheer irony of seeing our wrecking ball completely demolished by the impact. AND THE GLASS HOUSE WAS STILL UNSCATHED!


It felt like time stopped as I looked down at Diana’s remains. But then, David shocked me by yelling, “DIANA!”


We both ran to the wreckage and David’s overflowing tears peppered around it. I have never seen him so heartbroken. Unfortunately, the old jerk was still next to us behind the glass door.


“Looks more deformed now if you ask me.” He arrogantly said, cackling like he had Lung Cancer Deluxe.


David slowly turned his head to the elderly ass with a blank stare that you would only see during wartime. Before he thought about doing anything again in retaliation, I dragged him to the phone booth I hid in. With the state of the weather and his weight, it was torture to pull his body but he needed another breather elsewhere.


When we reached the booth, I offered to call Janice. David was too exhausted and angry to ask why but I told him about my theory. The crack. The old man’s anger. I knew they had to be connected somehow.


“If a wrecking ball didn’t do anything, what would the force do?” I said. “Send drone strikes?”


“They can’t do that.” David muttered.


“Exactly.” I replied weakly. “Now, that’s an elder we’re dealing with. He’ll be lured by the thought of a woman visiting there. But, once Janice takes a look at the amount of dust those shelves have and tries to steal it, she might just tick him off enough to break the glass.”


David asked, “And if he doesn’t? And what if Janice ends up not liking that dust?”


I paused and shrugged. I honestly couldn’t think of a Plan B. That’s when I found out that my ideas while I am on the verge of a heat stroke aren’t that good but we tried it anyway.


Luckily, as David and I calmed down in the booth waiting for Janice, the temperature felt cooler. Then, the regrets started piling in. Why did I bring my sister into this? Why didn’t I think about this more? “Oh well,” I thought.


My sister arrived at 1:46 PM. Over the phone, I promised her that there would be some “premium dust” awaiting her at the site.


She excitedly opened the booth. Dust aside, she was happy to see both of us. The irony of her appearance is that she did not look like she was living in the pigsty that is her apartment. Her clothes were clean and she smelled like lilac perfume.


“Hey, bro! Hey, David!” exclaimed Janice. “You both look terrible. Long day, huh? I brought some cold water just in case.”


She pulled out two bottles of water out of her backpack, which I assumed she brought with her to collect the dust as well. I'll tell you. The sight of those water bottles. It was like I was staring at the face of God. 


Without a single second thought, David reached for one of them and gulped it down. He thanked her right after as did I.


Janice laughed and asked for the location of the dust. I pointed at the glasshouse. With a hug and a “thank you”, she ran to the house, eager to check out the dust’s true quality. David and I stayed in the booth, praying that this wouldn’t be all for naught.

Most of the following is from Janice’s account since I was too far to see exactly what was happening.


Apparently, she saw the desks. Then, she saw the bookshelves. Janice could already tell that the dust was perfect for her art.


She noticed the old dick sitting on the same chair we saw him lying in. She knocked on the glass and immediately was greeted with a shotgun to her shock. It almost sounded like a repeat of what we dealt with until the dude realized Janice was a woman.


“Oh. I thought you were one of those orange-clothed millennials.” He said. “Sorry about that. Anything I can do for a pretty lady like you?”


Even when he tried to calm her down, the man still had the shotgun in his hands. Realizing that, he threw it far across the room and gave her a creepy smile. Janice could barely muster up any words in response.


“Can I come in?” She said awkwardly.


He agreed very quickly and opened the door, offering to give her a tour of his humble abode. Janice immediately walked to the dusty bookshelves.


“Oh.” Said the man. “I see you like my collection of vintage Rolling Stone magazines. DON’T TOUCH THOSE! They’re a very important part of my home. You see, there was a time in this world where everything was great. The 60s. The 70s. Where art was good and had meaning. I don’t know what happened but America lost its image. I had to steal these just so I could be reminded of that simpler time I can no longer have.”


Although Janice was still listening to his yapping and his confession to thievery, she really did not care. She told me she was only thinking of a way to stash the dust into her backpack. Good to know I was right about the reason she brought it here.


She told me that she persuaded the old fart to tell her more while sitting on his chair which was at an angle where his back would be turned away from the shelves. Somehow, that worked.


Janice was scrambling to take all of that premium dust. The man was still chattering but it wouldn’t stop him from getting up at any moment. Soon after, Janice’s nervousness was starting to feel the heat of the summer sun. She was sweating and grabbing every piece of dirt she could. But then, she slipped.


She made a 1977 Rolling Stone issue fall to the ground. Diana Ross was smiling on the cover but Janice wasn’t returning that emotion. It was at that moment where she was starting to see everything around her in slow motion. She knew it was over.


The elderly creep sprung out of his chair, already knowing what happened behind him. According to Janice, the cracks in the glasshouse started to spread everywhere then.


“ARE YOU TRYING TO STEAL FROM ME, GIRL?!” He screamed as the glass cracks grew so big that I was able to see them from afar. Scared, she ran to the door to exit.


The sight of it made me realize my biggest mistake. Janice could be hurt by the glass falling! What was wrong with me?! I will never trust any thought I have during a near-heat stroke again! Panicked, I sprinted to the glasshouse as its cracks began to fully cover it.


“Wait, James!” exclaimed David. “What are you doing?!”


The only way I could respond was, “JANICE!”


Seemingly, the shotgun was thrown too far for how fast the angry fossil wanted her out of the house. As retaliation, he just kept yelling, “GET OUT!”


Then, Janice saw him notice the Rolling Stone issue that dropped. He picked it up and prepared to throw it at my sister.


One final “GET OUT!” and when I reached the now-cracked glass door, the magazine was flying right at Janice’s head. We were both so scared, we could die right there. I began to sense the slow motion she was probably feeling.


However, it missed her by an inch and collided with the glass house, causing it to finally bust open and fall apart. I managed to get Janice out and shield her from some of the glass but we both suffered injuries.


Everything was getting painful and blurry. Our legs and arms were gushing badly. I ended up blacking out. I obviously don’t remember anything after that.


Luckily after that long period of darkness, I woke up in the hospital next to my family and David, my partner in crime. I couldn’t move with bandages around me but at least I could finally see.


My family were all pretty worried and rightfully upset that Janice was a part of it as well. But they were still ecstatic to see me awake again. Soon after, David told me everything that happened while I fainted.


I alerted him by bursting out of the phone booth and with nothing else to do in that situation, David called the emergency hotline to help us. If he didn’t do that, my sister and I probably wouldn’t have survived. I owe him my life.


Plus, he stashed the magazine that demolished the glass house. The one with Diana Ross on the cover. David pictured it as an uncoincidental sign of the wrecking ball’s “unfinished business”.


He held the magazine tight to his chest, looked up at the hospital ceiling, and said, “Thank you, my dear sweet Diana.” A smile and a single tear erupted from his face. It definitely made me happy to see him in a good mood once more.


However, I didn’t even mention the craziest part of this story. Through extensive research, the law enforcement found out that the tormenting man was a convicted serial killer. Minutes after I passed out, David saw the force coming with drone warfare to finish the criminal off once and for all.


I’m just kidding. That old fuck got impaled by shards, and bled to death before the police even arrived. But, wouldn’t that be cool?


Anyway, thank you for reading all the way through, Razing Squad. I promise to update more often now that we fully recovered from this predicament. I appreciate all of your support! See you guys next time!


~James


P.S. For all of my readers who live in glass houses, try not to throw Rolling Stones.


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Comments

Strange… but it held my attention nonetheless! Good work

nice work! this was a really interesting piece. i feel like by including the fact that the old man was a serial killer at the end, it should have had more influence on the story (and perhaps who he was and what his limits were), but that’s overall a pretty small piece of feedback. this was fun to read and i appreciate your participation, thank you! i hope to see you in the next one!

thanks so much! as for the end, i thought it would be funny and make it more blog-like if that serial killer thing was made-up. making him a random old bag instead had me laughing to myself more. glad you liked it tho. :)

nice work! this was a really interesting piece. i feel like by including the fact that the old man was a serial killer at the end, it should have had more influence on the story (and perhaps who he was and what his limits were), but that’s overall a pretty small piece of feedback. this was fun to read and i appreciate your participation, thank you! i hope to see you in the next one!