short stories, writing

doing the right thing is for suckers [short story]


The hero does not know who to trust
~

I walked into the office building the same way I did every day. I grabbed my coffee order and dodged across the street only narrowly escaping being run over. I walked briskly for three minutes before I turned left and carried on for another minute before I skipped up the steps and strolled in. I nodded at the security guard and waited for him to nod back before I headed for the elevator.

If it sounded mundane, that’s because it was. My life, my job, my everything. It was boring. I was an auditor. I spent every day of my life crunching numbers. I made sure that money was being spent accordingly, tracked each single cent. I was supposed to be the person that people wanted looking at their books in order to make every penny count.

Except, for the most part, I was the person they didn’t want looking. My job was to find things, but only things that wouldn’t kick up a huge fuss.

Auditing was one of those grey areas that people tended to skirt along. Transparency was great, but getting away with transgressions was even better. 

There was a running joke that my colleagues used to make.

We find the bodies and we bury them even deeper.

With that in mind, I walked slowly towards the hallway that led to my office. Unbeknownst to everybody in this building, an anonymous email was on its way to the Times.

I wasn’t trying to be a hero. 

Not really. However, when I was faced with ignoring the fact that millions of people stood to lose their savings and pensions, I knew I had to do something. That didn’t make me a hero, it made me human.

I took my place at my desk and logged onto my computer as normal. Even though I’d covered my tracks well, used VPNs, secure servers and a dummy email address, I still wondered.

The memory of Josh from Accounting vanishing out of sight still lingered. He came across some numbers that didn’t add up and he did the right thing.

Unfortunately, the right thing didn’t get people too far in this town.

Doing the right thing was for suckers.

However, it was either I sat on what I’d found and watched as millions of lives were destroyed or actually doing something. 

I chose to do something. 

I chose to make sure that people would be digging through this mess for years instead of shoving it deeper.

The only problem now was that I wasn’t the only one who’d seen the information. At least three or four others must have gone past it, maybe more. Once the news broke my days would be numbered.

The smiles and cordial greetings would evaporate. People would wonder. They would speculate. At least one person would mention me by name.

I looked up at the office and glanced around. I tried to think if I had any allies here, anyone who would have my back.

I came up empty.

In the end, I resigned myself to my fate.

It took three weeks for them to realise it was me.

By then, I was gone.

I’d never get a job in this area again. My life was effectively ruined but I found that it didn’t matter. My life in return for millions of people who stood to lose everything? It didn’t compare.

They called me a hero, but I disputed that notion strongly.

I wasn’t a hero; I was just a sucker with a heart.

© hiptobesnark 2017

photo challenge

Treesitions (photo challenge)

This is a response to this week’s  photo challenge

This week, share a photograph that signifies transitions and change to you.


A few months ago, these trees were devoid of leaves and colour and now they’re bright, vibrant and making the park look mighty fun. In a few months, these trees will go through another transition and the cycle will continue. 

Much like life. 

So essentially, we are all trees. One day we lose our leaves. On another day, we get them back. Sometimes we fall down and then we get back up. And okay, trees don’t get back up, but you get the point. 

Life

One-Liner Wednesday – Trends come and go…

The truth about conformity, is it bites without a sting
Trends come and go, but when you’re alone it doesn’t mean a thing

I always champion being a trend setter instead of a trend follower. It’s cheaper, less stressful and you don’t fall into the trap of comparing yourself to other people.


This my entry for this week’s One-Liner Wednesday. Deets are here.

Bitchin', Life

Give Me A Sign (#SOCS)

Forever – and ever
the scars will remain

I always like to think that I’m this closed book, but lately I’ve figured out that I’m not. I’m sort of the goofy, quirky, hapless girl who’s always laughing. However, I’m not always laughing on the inside. I’m barely laughing on the inside. In fact most of the time I’m in a constant state of despair on the inside.

Usually, when I’m in a downward spiral, I get the usual signs. Increased blogging. Check. Lack of constant writing. Check. Low motivation. Check. Low mood. Check. Fatigue. Check. Procrastination. Double check. Fixation (some of y’all can attest to this one). In some ways, the signs make it easy for to figure out why I feel the way I do, but in another sense, it’s bullshit.

By the time I’ve overcome that, I say to myself, let’s take time to just be. Less sad, of tired, whatever. By the time I’ve done that, the cycle starts all over again. 

Anyway, I think all of this kind of bleeds out in my personality. The snark, the cynicism, the sarcasm, dry wit, the fact that I turn everything into a joke. I am probably the epitome of old man yells at cloud, but it’s how I deal.

Anyway, if there was a sign I’d use to represent myself, it’s the caution sign.

For several reasons.

  1. Not everyone can handle my sense of humour. Often, I’m being facetious when I speak but maybe it’s too deadpan. People take offence and it doesn’t end well.
  2. I’m an idiot (no really I am) and thus makes me annoying at times.
  3. It’s unlikely that you’ll ever fully know the real me.

To expand on three, I’m at the point where I’m not going to tell certain people candid details about my life. If that makes me fake or whatever, so be it. Often people who seek this knowledge don’t have your best interests at heart. They store it and use it whenever they want to get one over you. Suddenly, that insecurity you shared is being used to make you feel even more insecure and it works. That kind of thing stays with you, or it’s stayed with me.

Like the lyrics at the start of the post state, forever and ever, the scars will remain, but, you know what? Fuck anyone who isn’t happy with the way I am.

Unfortunately for them, I’m non-refundable and I don’t do exchanges. 😎

~

This is my entry for this weeks #SOCS, details of which can be found here!

Lyrics are from Give Me A Sign by Breaking Benjamin. It’s worth a listen if you haven’t heard it already! 

short stories, writing

clouded in a heavy sourness [short story]

Written for Prompt #44 (below) – from this post


The maid is not a maid, the house is not a home
~

My life isn’t what I’d call conventional. It’s okay, it’s good, whatever people define as not bad. I live in a huge house. By huge, I mean, huge. There’s ten bedrooms, probably more bathrooms and enough scented candles to stock an apocalyptic safe house. I have want I want and I can’t complain.

That’s how I’d describe my life to a stranger at least.

Perfect.

Idyllic.

Nothing is wrong.

Smiles aplenty.

In reality, it’s fucked up.  Continue reading “clouded in a heavy sourness [short story]”

Life

One-Liner Wednesday | All Things Are Possible

All things are possible when you wearing purple converse


My friend and I love purple. We are also underwhelmed by life so we are trying to find solace in the unlikeliest of places. Such as my purple converse! 

This is a a response to One-Liner Wednesday. You can find out more and participate here

Life

Turn Up

Today’s Daily Prompt is volume and I’m going to tackle it in the literal sense. 
Sometimes I like to turn my music up high and really blast it. Now, as someone who gets headaches easily it isn’t wise. However, as someone who likes to block out all necessary noise it’s a must. 

I have something that we call misophonia, so background noise is real irritating to me. All of that every day chatter can be fine one day and painful the next. Loud conversations physical disturb me. Loud chewing. All of that. So I use volume as a shield. And also because I’d be lost without music. I am more of a headphones than a blast music via speakers girl. 

I live for those moments when I get excited by a song I’ve heard a million times before but still feel compelled to turn it up. It’s the small things in life, people. My personal earphone concerts have worked wonders for me over the years. 

Case in point: the most effective way for me to clean is to play my 80-song Backstreet Boys playlist. I turn it up and boom, two hours later, everything is much cleaner than it was before. 

I’m also one of those people that focuses by blasting music. I’ve had countless people tell me that they need silence but silence is bad for me. It gives me too much time to get lost in my own head and daydream. 

The music acts as a barrier and blocks out any outside noise. 

That’s the most important part.