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Short story help

 
Anonymous Coward
User ID: 69685927
United States
10/15/2015 05:17 PM
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Short story help
So far it's disjointed, long in all the wrong places, short in the other. I've got bout 2000 words written, but I think the beginning is solid, up until I go into my arrest, then it stagnates.

I need to change up the order because there really ends up being a lot going on, so if any writers could help me, I would really appreciate. The GLP has given me thick skin, so I will post what I've written (not proofreading yet) and in an order I have to change to keep the story moving in the direction it needs to go. So here is the beginning, and the second part (which will probably be switched around to split up the third part, but writing is a process, right?
Lets see if you guys can help me get through this without losing my mind
Anonymous Coward (OP)
User ID: 69685927
United States
10/15/2015 05:17 PM
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Re: Short story help
"Can you just pull onto the shoulder, I can't do this with that THING bouncing around back there." We were pulling the U-Haul so no one could run my expired plates

"I'm not pulling onto thee fucking side of the road, you can wait 'til I find an exit or keep jabbing yourself till you run out of veins. We're not even out of Virginia yet. I know inevitably you're going to be fucked but you might want to make it through the ride before you get sick."

"Just slow down then, the trailer says not to go over 55 anyway." As I let off the gas, the shaking in the compartment of the pickup truck became almost imperceptible. "Is that so bad, you're going to get us pulled over for speeding anyway." My girlfriend had a phone charger wrapped tightly just above her bicep. I stared at her as she held the needle in her teeth and slapped the inside of her arm, until she pulled it from her mouth and started to dig it into her arm again.

Then I just blankly watched the highway lines pass under the headlights until I saw her relax back into her seat. "Feel better," I asked. She said "I really think we are doing the right thing."

She had warrants. Mostly for petty shit, obtaining money by false pretenses and she was a person of interest as part of a ring that had been changing the UPC codes on items from Walmart, buying merchandise for nothing, and then returning the goods for full price. After the first few returns, they started copying her ID, so it was only a matter of time before she went from person of interest to head of a criminal conspiracy. She was done with Virginia, no way around it. If anyone in that state ran her ID again she would go to jail for a long time.
Anonymous Coward (OP)
User ID: 69685927
United States
10/15/2015 05:17 PM
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Re: Short story help
I had just gotten out of Jail. Possession for four controlled substances, class II's and III's, and a distribution of one schedule one. A controlled buy from someone I'd dealt with for years. It really wasn't too much, yes they had me on tape twice selling bags of heroin and during the stop found some pills; Klonipan, Xanax and suboxone I think, a good narc will tell you that there's always a way out. What happened to me, same thing that happened to the guy that turned on me? He let a cop search his pockets even with an uncapped needle and didn't spend a night in jail. That alone is good reason to get fucked up in many places I've been, but they couldn't bust him up and then put him back on the street like nothing happened. He was squealing in the back of the patrol car. From what I heard he didn't even get processed.

I set up to meet this guy in a gas station parking lot like I'd done a hundred times before, I don't know why I didn't see it. There were too many cars for that time of night, too many American cars, but if you don't go with your instincts you have no business doing something as risky as selling drugs. What's that line from Fight Club? "How much can you know about yourself, you've never been in a fight?" Well how much can you know about yourself if you've never been a junkie? You might be better off for not knowing, but everybody's got their some shit. Most of the time it just never gets to the surface.

So I pull into a space on the side of the building, and I don't see from where, but the guy I'm serving emerges across the parking lot. He looks nervous, but I figured he was just dope sick and honestly didn't give it it too much thought. I slap his hand as I pass him off two bags of dope and he just dumps thirty dollars into my window. He was halfway to his knees before the undercovers even got out of their cars, guns pulled, screaming at me to "SHOW YOU HANDS" as four more cruisers squeal into the lot. They immediately pull Joe (we'll just call him Joe) out of the way and two UC's rip me from my car and twist me up pretty good while a third digs his knee into the base of my spine. I remember one of them screaming "QUIT RESISTING!" as if this were a thought in my head at this point.

They get me cuffed and set me by the curb directly in the headlamps of my car. A fourth UC who walked with a little bit more authority than the rest of the pack of power hounds and holds the two bags I just gave Joe in his hand. "Well, what do we have here?" "I have no idea." Don't talk to police, ever. "Well this guy's says he just got them from you," (good job protecting this guy's cover I thought. Even if I wasn't planning on putting the boot to him in docket before, I sure was now.
Anonymous Coward (OP)
User ID: 69685927
United States
10/15/2015 05:18 PM
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Re: Short story help
"Do you mind if we search your vehicle Mr. James" the guy in controlled bellowed, knowing he could do whatever the fuck he wanted with what he had. "If you don't have probable cause I guess we're all just going to have to wait for a judge to sign the warrant. "Oh I think we have plenty of probable cause, toss it and make sure it looks worse than when he got here." I had a bag that they dumped out on the sidewalk, a basket of clean clothes, and a few books in the back that shook open and tossed twenty feet into the street.
"What else you got on you smartass." One of the non-descript officers wrenched me to my feet by grabbing me with one hand under the bicep, spun me over the hood of my car, kicked my feet apart and almost started to dig through my pockets. Just then his plainclothes twin asked if there was anything in my pockets that could hurt him, like a knife or a syringe. I said no and one cop pressed my face hart against the searing hood of my car while the other went through seizing and going through any piece of lint he could find, placing everything one by one on the top of the car. "What's this?" "I don't know", I said. It was a mini mag-light. "And this?" "No idea." A crumpled up receipt which was meticulously unfolded and studied under a flashlight. "I got something" the plainclothes officer said excitedly, removing a cigarette cellophane with two Klonipan, one Xanax and a quarter of a Suboxone from my front pocket. "I don't have a clue, these aren't even my pants!" They proceeded to pat me down and then literally threw me into the back of the cruiser containing the most vicious German Shepard I'd ever seen no more than a half Plexiglas inch away, far more eager to tear my head off than any of the cops. "Watch your head smartass! Oh, and he won't bite unless we tell him to," Then they slammed the door while this dog literally with NUTS inches from my face. After a few minutes they had bagged up their new contraband, the patrolman entered the car, said something to the dog which instantly shut him up, and I was on my way to booking, having already invoked my Miranda rights.

Not much happened for a few weeks. At first I was denied bail and my court appointed was on vacation so I was just settling in for a bit of a haul when I was visited by the DEA. They were like something out of a television show. The shorter (and I'm guessing lead officer) was playing good-guy, although it looked as if it should have gone differently. He wore a thick mustache with at least two days of cheek stubble and had sharp old eyes that seemed to figure that they would turn me pretty quick. I mean, I hadn't even scheduled a bond hearing yet and my aversion to single-blade jailhouse razors with no shaving cream left me looking pretty worse for the wear. I was tired, they came right after breakfast a six o'clock when I usually found it easiest to sleep that part of the day away.

"You know what we have on you, don't you son?" I had a clue. I figured they had set up a controlled buy with a criminal informant, likely wearing a wire with photographs of the whole think. "Sir, I honestly don't know why I'm in here. A guy came up to my car asking for money and all of a sudden I've got the Delta Force all over me saying I was carrying dope." "Selling dope," the taller one said. "Distribution is what they put on my intake papers, but I don't even know what dope looks like. "THIS is what your looks like" said the taller, more presentable man, who proceed to slam a clear plastic bag containing two obvious bags of heroin onto the table. "I can't even tell what that is!" "It's two bag of heroin, which you were taped selling to a criminal informant on more than one occasion. And if you keep acting like a shit heel you are going to get very used these bars.

"Look" said the chubby old cop. We've got you dead to rights, but we can make this all go away if you cooperate with us. "Cooperate" I flatly. Like setting someone else up." Yes, we know that you associate with some of the town's wholesalers. You've spent enough time in here, it won't be suspicious if you get out, today if you want. "Let me hear the tapes." The young wan gasps "oh you will at trial." Let me see the tapes I said again." The older officer motioned to the perturbed younger man. He opened a manila file on the desk. Revealing a set of clear pictures. Here is your buyer. We had him waiting in an unmarked car and wired up at least an hour before you arrived. We sent him with two marked bills to approach your vehicle, and listen to your exchange in real time. I could hear myself clearly. "You look like shit." Joe tells me he's been waiting all day. "This should make you feel better," then the handshake before all hell breaks loose.

"Look man, I'm just a junkie. I've done what I can here and there, but I don't know anybody that has weight." The older guy pushes an affidavit to me. "well we know you spent some time with Dean Holder, and we've been following him for months, and he stops by your house a few times every week. I'm reading my name all over this affidavit and I just say "look, I've got to talk with my lawyer." "But we can have you outside today "the young man almost implores. "I don't care, I've got commissary, I've got a bond hearing in ten days, I'm not setting anybody up"

"Then we will have to tell the judge you were uncooperative and ask for the strictest sentence." "Well you do what you do, that's really all I can say. This conversation shouldn't have happened anyway. "Happy hunting" I say. "Enjoy the food" remarks the younger man before gathering his papers and leaving with his partner. I'm lucky, I've got people outside and they know I didn't roll. I had 10000 dollars pulled together for my bond (actually 1000, but you only have to pay 10 percent) At my bond hearing I was set to be released for 5000 dollars, or 500 depending on how you count it. I made bond that night and after a shower I went to a local bar to call Dean and let him know what was up.

But this is still several weeks before I leave town. I may have stayed if things hadn't just continued to get worse...
Anonymous Coward
User ID: 70403991
United States
10/15/2015 05:21 PM
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Re: Short story help
I'm not interested in reading about some drug scumbag.
Anonymous Coward (OP)
User ID: 69685927
United States
10/15/2015 05:53 PM
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Re: Short story help
I'm not interested in reading about some drug scumbag.
 Quoting: Anonymous Coward 70403991


well feel free to stay away (and avoid any book by Ginsburg, Bukowski, Tom Wolf, Hunter S. Thompson, Burroughs, Kerouac too then) Scumbags

whose your favorite author AC>





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