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And so it Began…

The Classic, "If I had a wish I's ask for three more wishes"

By Donna Fox (HKB)Published 3 years ago Updated 10 months ago 10 min read
8

It started like any other day, I was coming off a double shift from the diner. Completely exhausted, I hopped on the bus heading home. Thankful, it was only 20 minutes away. Overcome with fatigue, I plunked myself into the first open seat available.

I struggled to keep my eyes open as the bus swayed onward, bouncing as if enticing me to rest my eyes. To which I complied.

But my rest was short-lived as I felt a hand caress my bare thigh. Knowing there was no one beside me when I sat down, I opened my eyes a sliver to see a dirty sausage of a hand upon my thigh.

“Sir, remove your hand before I remove it for you,” I spoke softly, too exhausted to add force.

“Why wear a skirt like that if you weren’t inviting my touch?” his whiskey-scented breath protested. His hand migrated upwards, slowly.

Annoyed, I opened my eyes to look at him with the scorn of every woman who had suffered this indignity.

Taking a calming breath, I spoke softly once more. “This is my work uniform, I am not inviting your touch. Nor do I care for it.” I explained, clenching my jaw as rage began to build.

“You’re not moving away so you must like it,” he stated with a smirk. Licking his lips with greed as the bus came to a stop and their bodies jerked forward.

Our eyes remained locked.

I debated getting off the bus but it rolled forward before I could get up. Looking around, the bus was almost empty so I understood his rash bravery. But that didn’t excuse it.

Knowing the next stop wasn’t for another 10 minutes, I was trapped. For now.

Swallowing hard, “Sir, I will ask you one more time. Remove your hand or you will regret it.” I warned, in an unwavering voice. Chewing my cheek as I awaited his choice.

“You might as well sit back and enjoy it.” He spoke in a cold emotionless voice, as his hand slid further up. The tips of his fingers penetrated beneath the hem of my little black skirt.

“I warned you,” I mumbled, with a sweet smile. Using the heel of my foot, I stomped his toes.

Causing him to yell out.

Taking the opportunity, I attempted to pass by him. Only to be yanked backward, by my bag. Looking back, the drunk was holding on to it.

“You get back here,” he demanded through gritted teeth.

This soon became a game of wills as our tug-of-war began. Thankfully interrupted by a tall dark-haired man.

“What’s going on here?” he asked, now standing beside me.

“Nothing.” he drunk muttered, loosening his grip.

“He’s trying to mug me,” I mutter in the most pathetic, helpless voice I could muster.

“Sir?” the man, asked in a foreboding tone.

Immediately, the drunk let go and turned to face the front. Acting innocent.

Soon after, the bus came to a stop. My stop.

“Miss, are you okay?” the dark-haired man asked.

“I’m fine, this is my stop,” I stated, walking to the front of the bus. “Thanks,” I spoke gingerly as I looked back, but I no longer saw him.

Giving myself a shake, I stepped off the bus and headed home. Walking down the block, I tried to shake the recent events from my memory. Entering the code to our building.

As I waited for the door to unlock. I got a feeling of someone lurking in the shadows. Peering over my shoulder, I spotted a dark figure walking behind me. No one from my building comes home this late. Could it be the man from the bus?

Immediately I began to yank at the door. Finally it opened. I flung it aside and ran in.

Ascending the stairs, but paused on the second floor. As I waited for the sound of the door closing to bring me comfort. But it didn’t come. Instead, a set of cat-like footsteps came, which also ascended the stairs.

Immediately my adrenaline began to pulse again. As I ascended the many flights of stairs, praying I could make it to my apartment before he caught me. Finally, on the 5th floor, I looked over the edge of the railing. Seeing a set of feet following behind.

Panicked, I ran up the last flight and to my door. Rummaging through my bag, I tried to find my keys. As the footsteps came closer. Until finally my fingers found them, fumbling and scrambling to open the door. Slamming it behind me and locking it. Finally able to breathe, I looked through the peephole. Waiting for my stalker.

He emerged from the mouth of the staircase, looking around with caution. Seeing no one else, he produced an envelope from his jacket pocket. Then slid it under the door, before disappearing down the stairs soundlessly.

Seeing he was gone, I bent down to grab the envelope. Carrying it to my bedroom, I threw it on my nightstand as I undressed and prepared for a shower before bed. Not thinking about it again, until I awoke the next morning.

Reaching out to turn my alarm off, my hand found the envelope once more. Brushing it aside, I grabbed my phone and silenced the alarm. Before readying myself for another long day.

Today, much like yesterday, rushed by in a blur. Luckily I didn’t have to work a double shift, nor did a creep that bothered me on the bus. I got home while the sun was still up, flopping myself upon the bed. I tossed my phone upon the side table, knocking something off. Rolling over, I reached down and my fingers found a slim piece of paper.

Lifting it over the edge of the bed and into sight, I saw the unmarked envelope from last night. Allowing curiosity to get the best of me, I opened it to reveal a cheque for $20000. Upon further inspection, there was no note or any inkling of who it might be from. I lay in bed studying it for a moment, my hands trembled as I had never seen this amount of money before.

I swallowed hard as I fought the urge to jump out of bed and run to the bank, immediately. Studying the cheque more, I read my name plain as day ‘Ada Cutler’. It was for me, but the signature of illegible, and the memo, was left blank.

In the blink of an eye I was out the door and on a bus to the nearest bank. I found myself admiring the cheque openly, as I sat bouncing on the half-full bus. Then temptation came over me.

If I don’t know who gave me the money, surely it wouldn’t matter if I added to the amount…

Rummaging through my bag, I found a black pen that looked the same shade as the one used on the cheque. Glancing around innocently, I scrolled down an extra zero at the end. Gifting myself $200000, instead of $20000. Immediately my heart began to race with excitement once again as I smiled at my handy work. Just in time for my stop, I hopped off and ran into the bank.

I walked to the first teller available and presented them with my forged cheque, as well as my debit card. After an auspicious call to the manager. I explained I am receiving this money from my long-lost Aunt who wanted to help me with a down payment for a home. Which seemed believable enough as they approved it and I went on my way.

The bus ride back seemed faster than normal as I dreamt of all the things this money could buy me. A better living space, a tv. I’d even be able to quit my job and have time to look for something I liked. Maybe start my own business.

The possibilities seemed endless at this moment. I smiled to myself as I climbed the last of the stairs to my apartment. As I produced the keys and stepped towards the door, I kicked something. There was a manila package at my doorstep. I wasn’t expecting anything, but it had my name on it so there was no mistaking who it was for.

Unlocking the door, I examined the package and closed the door behind me. Feeling as though it were my lucky day, I opened it. Dumping the contents on my counter, I was presented with another cheque and a little black book.

The cheque was post-dated for a week from now, written to me for $200,000. My heart skipped a beat to see this amount for a second time today. But I felt bewildered, that someone would gift me yet another audacious amount. So I turned my attention to the little black book, flipping through it.

The first page read:

Ada Cutler,

In accepting my money you have accepted a contract. I see that you were clever enough to procure more money than intended. As you need it, I will allow this. However, expect that you will be earning it.

Starting today, your life belongs to me and you will do as I say.

Firstly, you will receive a phone call in the next few moments. Asking you to go to work, say yes, and there you will steal $10 from the register. Then you will proceed to quit your job and leave. There will be a man in black on the corner of 5th and James Street. Give him the money and little black book, then head directly home.

Should you refuse or fail, you will be turned in to the police for forging my cheque and stealing.

Good Luck,

JCB

After finishing, I flipped through the little black book. Looking for more information but found it now.

I then grabbed an apple from the counter and sat down. Pondering the letter I had read when my phone rang.

Answering it, Brandon my manager from the diner asked if I could come in. A force of habit, I said yes.

The next thing I knew, I was walking in the door of Viny’s Diner. Dressed in my uniform ready for my shift. Within minutes I was doing my job, waiting tables and taking orders. Soon enough I found myself in front of the cash register. That’s when I saw the abundance of cash inside. I realized they wouldn’t miss $10 they wouldn’t miss $50. We could call it back to pay for all the frivolity they put me through. And I would.

Next, I walked into Brandon’s office and handed him a napkin that read:

I quit - Ada Cutler :)

Then walked out, without another thought. Not even bothering to enjoy his stunned face as I did so.

Heading for the corner of 5th and James, outside Viny’s Diner. I saw the man in black, he was tall and had dark hair. Like the man from the bus, a few nights ago.

Adding the money to my envelope with the little black notebook. I tapped him on the shoulder and handed him the package before running to catch the bus, that pulled up.

When I arrived home, I was immediately met with another package in front of my door. Which contained another little black book with more instructions.

Well done. I appreciate the lack of hesitation and efficiency. You will go far in this business.

Your next order of business is to seek justice from that man on the bus. You will catch the 2:30 express bus to Tuscany. He will enter the bus at some point during the ride, follow him off, and punish him as you see fit.

Should you refuse or fail, you are well aware of the consequences.

Good luck,

JCB

Changing out of my uniform, I headed out the door to catch my bus.

Thus my new life began…

fiction
8

About the Creator

Donna Fox (HKB)

Thank you for stopping by!! 💚💙💜🩵

If you are interested in longer works by me, I have two books published on Amazon.

Jogger's Trail and Fox in The Hole.

Reader insights

Outstanding

Excellent work. Looking forward to reading more!

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Comments (6)

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  • The Invisible Writer4 months ago

    I loved this. I like the touch of the little black and the mystery of not knowing exactly who she's working for or what she will have to do. Excellent Story. I would have read chapter two. This was very well done. I'm assuming it was for the little black book challenge. A very unique creative take. I'm biased but if I were a judge this one would have been hard to pass by.

  • Donna Renee5 months ago

    I love that you linked this in your “story” for the graveyard piece, otherwise I might never have seen it! Did you continue the story at all?? I was glad she stomped his foot, he deserved more than that lol. I read the comments so I found the check answer I was looking for 😁 I have not written one in years now hahaha and I remember being SO stressed out about how the heck to do it the last time I did have to write one though 🤣😩. Even addressing envelopes stresses me out 🫣🤣

  • Was browsing through your profile and decided to reread this one! When I saw "dirty sausage of a hand", obviously I read the "dirty sausage" part first and my jaw dropped because I thought he pulled his dick out! 🤣🤣🤣🤣 Then I saw "of a hand" and realised how sick in the head I am, lol! I have a question that didn't occur to me when I first read this. How was Ada able to add a zero to the check and get away with it? Because don't checks require the amount of money to be written both in number and words to avoid the adding of digits? I still wonder who JCB is. Maybe it's HKB in disguise, lol! I also wonder who that man in black is and why she needed to pass the little black book to him. I love stories that leaves questions unanswered. Makes me think more. I truly enjoyed this again D! 🥰🥰🥰

  • Heyyyy Donna! I finally got some free time and decided to spend it in your profile! I loved this story so much! I wish I was Ada. I would love to punish that drunk guy, lol!

  • L.C. Schäfer12 months ago

    I am curious. What don't you like about this story? I can only think of 2 things. 1. I can't imagine anyone being cool enough to leave that first envelope until the following day! 😁 2. This might be cultural, but you can't do that with cheques here. The amount is written in numbers and in words, and you draw a line to the end of the space. So someone can't just come along and add a zero 🤔

  • Novel Allenabout a year ago

    Consequencies and actions. Interesting story.

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