I’m running late this week with the story, but I finally got it done. We had to include the phrase “It’s a new life” So, head on over to Wendy’s place and check out the stories. The voting will happen soon!
I stood up and glanced out the window. The rain kept falling at a steady pace. Great place, this. I can’t even go for a walk. I glanced over at the computer and sighed. Nothing there would interest me: not anymore, not for a while anyways. They wouldn’t let me write. No one to email even.
Then I slumped back into my chair. “It’s a new life,” they had told me. Sure. Those wise guys never had to live like this. The pain from the loss of my wife was bad enough, but then I had to re-live everything in court. They told me they’d take care of me if I testified. Sure, the mob hitman who hit my wife instead of the woman he was supposed to take out deserved to be punished. But now I sit around all day without my love of my life and he’s in prison with friends.
It was fun at first; people wondering where I had gone. My fans clamored for that third book but I disappeared. The contract on me was worth more than the contract I would get on the third book. It didn’t take too long, though, for people to lose interest. Other celebrities got married, or buried. Other celebrities had scandals and soon I was forgotten. Maybe in enough time I’d be the subject of one of those documentaries wondering where I went.
Writing was my life; now, they didn’t want to take a chance that my style would be recognized and they wouldn’t let me write. That last book was ready to be published – but only after I died. They didn’t want to take a chance on the mob finding out that I was still alive. Sure I had enough to live on because the government funneled my royalties to me – but no one to live with. She was gone.
A ray of sunlight broke through the window. I turned to look and the rain was breaking up. I decided to go for a walk. I threw on a jacket and headed into the cool day. Two weeks here and this was the first day I could get out. I walked around the neighborhood checking out hiding places and escape routes. It pays to be prepared. The air, even though it was cooler than home, felt good and I almost began to smile. I headed back to the house with a spring in my step. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad here.
“Rick! Rick Jacobs!” I heard the call and froze. That was my old name. My heart thundered as I began thinking about my escape. The stop was imperceptible to others, but I felt as if I had been motionless for hours. “Rick! It’s Elaine from High School! Everyone thinks you’ve dropped off the face of the earth.” I remembered Elaine from high school. I had to fight the urge to run after Elaine and take her home with me. I just kept walking. As soon as I got inside the house, I called my handler. Maybe there was hope. Maybe there was new life.