The first chapter of Stormie a 16+ horror book. I hope you guys enjoy it reading as much as I did writing it… This chapter is just build up, and there’s more build up coming until the story starts… Well I can only hope when the book is done, you don’t kill yourself. But I think this book will have that effect on you! I scare myself at some points and that’s not an easy job, for I’m to big of a hard ass… And well to spoil one thing some guy is going to die a lot. Enjoy it while I’m still writing it…
A book by BJ Starink.
Copyright © 2021 - BJ Starink
All rights reserved.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, companies, places, events, locale settings and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or used in a fictional way. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. No part of this book may be reproduced or stored in any retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopier, recording, or otherwise, without the express written permission of the publisher.
Cover design by: BJ Starink
The writing is going slow at this point and I asked myself already wondering if I’m going through after the first chapter. I keep trying, but this is a completely different writing world for me. It has gone so weird that it has come to resemble a fictional autobiography. Something I didn’t want at all, but don’t worry, we’ll keep it fictional. At least as good as can you still follow me? I hope so!
Let’s get started already or not?
The more I say it, the sooner I believe it. That is what I tell myself. Stormie is a very sweet cat, Stormie is a playful cat, Stormie is an innocent cat! The more I keep saying it to myself, the sooner I believe it. Stormie means everything so well, but the dead don’t think that way. The dead see us as an intruder, the dead are after me! I am happy with Stormie and she with me, right? Right? When we first saw her, we knew she was different. How naughty she could look, how innocent she seemed. In a way she still is, but sometimes we think….
No that is not allowed! Get out of my head, you won’t get her! Get out of my head! She’s ours!
It all started so innocently. I worked a lot, worked 45/50 hours a week sometimes, and wished my mom had a friend. That’s how Stormie came into the picture. An innocent playful cat. I cannot say I was not warned about her race. A colleague said be careful with the Turkish Angora breed. They require a lot of attention and look more like a dog. He was absolutely right about that, Stormie even retrieve. A treasure of a beast really.
But what he should have warned me about is the fact that this cat, or actually breed, can see between life and death.
It wasn’t until I quit my job a few months later and I was sitting at home with her that I realized that Stormie was different. Different from other cats.
For example, when she started waiting for me at the top of the stairs and I was not allowed to go up. For example, that she almost never just crosses the threshold of the door. Or the simple games, the many games. Together with me or alone. Stormie is always playing. I’ve sometimes wondered who she plays with when she runs wild through the living room or the house again. Stormie is a special beast but we could have expected that. In order to properly tell this legend, I have to start at the beginning. So, let’s get started:
Work for your money!
The alarm rings at 4:30 s’ night, and I’m barely awake. Far too early what is on my mind when another working day will start in a few minutes. I have a hard time getting up and I think to myself I have to do this for that 300 euros more? I only earn 314 euros a week. Do I have to do this for it? My benefits were limited, but we managed. This time breaks up everyone, these days long and this work monotonous. Do the same thing all day: Collapse pallets, remove stickers from cups, and sort the same thing all day long. A working day without end and just incredible shit.
But I have 300 euros more per month. That is what my mother told me when she is sitting across me and drinking a cup of coffee with me. It is 05:00 and I have to cycle, I have to start 05:30 and I have to be there fifteen minutes in advance. Tired I get on the bike again to break a sweat already pedaling to get to in time. The cold outside air will wake you up, that’s what I tell myself. The cold outside air will wake you up.
But this time it doesn’t work. I ‘m not awake and I know I’m facing a difficult day. As so often a difficult day.
A day that cannot be sustained, but that you are happy with when you are done. This will be a war of attrition and that on Friday it is almost weekend.
And next week I have the evening shift, which will mean I’ll be working overtime again next week. Yuck is what I think to myself when I have passed the sixth traffic light. I put my bike in the bicycle shed and walk tired to my place. I smoke another cigarette before I start the day, my eyes are almost closing but I have to work. I have to work for my money. Even if it’s only a paltry 300 euros more, I have to work for my money. Otherwise, I feel useless all day. But my thoughts mainly go to my mother who is alone at home and my annoying neighbors and old friends, who want nothing more than to bully and challenge. They want a fight and knowing her they are going to get that. I soon got the idea to buy her a friend.
But is that a smart plan with my neighbors? Since they poisoned my dog too. My girl, my everything! Is that smart where I live? Our cats are affected enough too, but she just needs a friend especially at this time.
My butt is gone and I walk to the briefing where the management big mouthing about late comers again. My blood starts to boil but I have to stay calm. These are not times to be angry!
My previous job also had strange times starting at 3:30 AM and finishing at 8:30 AM. It was a great job and the pay was good there, I received 298 euros a week for 20 hours.
That was more than enough. Here I work 32 hours for 314, and let’s not get to the evening shifts. Sometimes you are just 5 to 6 hours longer at work and that every day. Because a rich basterd needs his money. And without our work, the rich will not get richer.
I can picture him as a door-to-door salesman in a suit who knows nothing about real work. Who has worked himself up to a large company, on the one hand I respect him, the other hand… So, one which gets a little ahead runs staring into a cubicle and everything for each other because he works for a large company.
NO, SHUT UP!
Is what I scream while the boss is still pissing about the late comers. He looks at me and sees the anger in my eyes, he happily keeps his mouth shut.
He just goes on and on about how the work suffers. Everyone’s fed up with that guy. Boy do we have to get up so early on this? Act normal dude! Put me to work before I fall over with fatigue. What a poser dude and the day has yet to begin. Then a colleague comes in and we hear that production is running slowly today. That too? Will there be a ray of hope today? We can start and I walk to my designated place.
The lights come on and all the tires work except my tire, the tire won’t turn on, and the anger is up to my neck. It slowly creeps into my brain, I’m afraid I’ll flip right away. The leadership comes to me, and yes of course I get told another one of his jokes: Yes, you should not stand on it huh … He can laugh but my blood begins to boil when I give a dumb answer : Can it be fixed this time? Purely from effort to stay calm. Everyone is at work, but there I am looking at a broken tire. My colleague’s shout:
OVER THERE IT DOES NOT GO SO FAST, TEMPO BOYS TEMPO!
The only thing that goes through my head is: Goddamn goddamn. But I still stay calm while my colleagues can laugh about it.
My phone is getting another notification but I don’t want to look. Must be something retarded again! And if it cannot be worse today, I am set by the boxes. The band’s defect… Always with band 1, every time and every day the same! The boxes are already coming out of my throat, but I have to keep going. I have to work for my money or I feel so useless. The boxes are so easy work, I got this job on a silver platter and I am starting to understand why. Then the leadership comes to me and I think he has good news but no, they need people for the fucking clean up. The third time this week that I spend a whole day at the fucking cleaning.
Walking around a factory all day to clean up behind those hawkers with a dustpan and brush. Time goes so slowly when you are on the cleaning. But this boy is trying to finish the day and is waiting for instructions from a colleague. When my cleaning boss comes. Such a wannabe Viking with a big mouth. Because there is still plenty to do and I cannot wait for my colleague. That’s when I say
Shove that job up your ass. You’re not my boss sitting on the other side. And I am not a dirty cleaner, fuck off man!
I pack my things and cycle home. I’m done for today and for the rest of my working life. That for 300 euros extra? No, we don’t! I call home and my mother picks up angrily, can still reach it. When she hears that I have quit my job, she immediately hangs up that phone. No, life is not easy for me. Humiliated at work first, then humiliated on the phone. An idiot looks at me wrong on the way and I am able to rebuild his face, but I manage to stay calm; he can’t help it. From a distance I hear him laughing; he can’t help it! Yet I look back and see him point at me. I stop my bike and get off when I look at him, he knows enough and sticks his thumb up to me. Furious I continue cycling when my phone rings again. If I pick it my mother with the words: What happened? When I explain it, she happily understands me and the anger turns into disappointment.
I can’t help it; they did their best and this boy ran away. When I get home, everything is as usual and a burden is lifted off me. Not about 4:30 and no more cleaning, a better rehabilitation does not exist. I believe that work is not for me and that I better write a book. Yes, why not? I’m writing a book! A book about my new cat when he comes!