- My character is a male human called Stephen DeCovelly
- He is 52 years old
- He is a 6 foot, around 11 stone caucasian with brown wavy hair, brown eyes and incredibly handsome. His features are so defined; almost chiselled. His eyes smile as well as his mouth. He is a sophisticated dresser, always looking good in his designer clothes.
- He has had numerous jobs. He is a failed investment advisor who is currently studying homeopathy and Chinese medicine. A passion is dancing.
- His greatest fear is not having a woman
- He longs for love and money. He hopes for romance with a wealthy woman. He dreams about the next woman.
- His motivation is to show his successful siblings and parents that he too is successful.
Arriving at the address she walked into the chaos inside. The huge room she entered was frigidly white, sparsely furnished with nothing visible on any surface. The quick glimpse at the artworks left her hoping she would at some time in the future be able to look at them at her leisure.
“Where is Stephen?” she asked. She could see a young girl sitting on the stairs, curled with her knees hugging her chest, her slight body wracked with sobs.
“Downstairs” Carina pointed. “He’s bleeding to death. He won’t let me do anything. It’s horrible. I don’t know what to do. He’s going to die.” She was crying also, her mascara leaving black rivers down her face.
“You stay with Pamela and look after her. Don’t worry about Stephen – I’ll take care of him.” Rhonda set off down the stairs appearing much more in control than she felt. She knocked on the closed-door that confronted her at the end of her descent. “Stephen?” she called “It’s Rhonda.”
“Come in. Don’t let anyone else in.”
“Okay.” She opened the door. Stephen stood there, naked to the waist. A sheet soaked with blood held to his side, his elbow raised at right angles to his body. His pallor was even more apparent than it had been that afternoon.
“What the hell.” Rhonda exclaimed now taking in the room. It was obviously where Stephen had been living. Like the room upstairs it was immense but here the furnishings were comfortable. An unmade bed lay along one wall. A comfy armchair and a treadmill at another end. A table spilling over with homeopathic books and medicines in the centre and a small kitchenette at the other end. All over the floor were bloody rags.
“It’s not a problem. In fact it’s good because the poison is coming out.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You know I had a melanoma removed a few years back. Well…it’s come back. Don’t pay any attention to Carina. She’s hysterical. It’s her that stopping me from getting better. She has such negative vibrations. She’s so negative.Tonight is good though because the poison is coming out. Just a pity that wimpy daughter of hers was here when it happened. Just keep them away from me.”
“Okay. Can I have a look and see if I can dress it for you?” He nodded in agreement. His face contorted in a spasm of pain as Rhonda removed the sheet. Years of nursing had trained her to maintain an expressionless face. “Shit” was the only word Rhonda uttered as she viewed the living mass on Stephen’s chest wall. “How the hell did you manage to hide that from us today?”
irene waters ©2013
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