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Here is my 303 word entry, FREE
The fireworks were spectacular.
That was my word for the day. Spectacular. I had another word picked for tonight.
Free.
Mama told me sitting on this sil was dangerous. I could fall off and kill myself. That was funny and sad at the same time.
Funny in that my window being so high above the other apartment buildings made for a …
spectacular view of these fiery (that had been last night’s word) comets going off so bright in the darkness.
spectacular view of these fiery (that had been last night’s word) comets going off so bright in the darkness.
Sad in that there were worse things than dying. I flinched as I heard Mama’s boyfriend yell louder just beyond my door where Mama stood.
Yeah, there was living.
At first, she just cried when Dr. Doom, as I called her boyfriend, started … visiting my room late at night.
When I started to walk funny, she seemed to find courage from somewhere and tried to stop him.
When I started to walk funny, she seemed to find courage from somewhere and tried to stop him.
Not that it worked. He was bigger and meaner than Mama.
Oooh!
That was a big cloud of fireworks. It seemed to just spread out across the whole dark night …
like the fear in my chest was spreading as I heard Dr. Doom yell even louder.
I studied the fireworks leaping and flaring like some ballet of fiery angels. I jerked as I heard Mama yelp and hit the floor hard.
The exploding stars of green, red, and gold seemed to call out to me.
Out of the corner of my eyes, I saw her boyfriend lumber into the room like some mean bear.
I smiled and sighed. Time for my word of the night. I tumbled off the sil into the darkness.
I spread my arms wide as if I were flying.
The wind caressed my hair, my face. I closed my eyes and smiled bigger.
I was free. Free! Fre ….The wind caressed my hair, my face. I closed my eyes and smiled bigger.
**
I remember that one. Such a sad ending.
ReplyDeleteAlex:
ReplyDeleteYes, as a counselor, I met too many young girls in such terrible homes. :-(
Like Alex, I remember that one as being quite sad. Just hearing such tales brings out the Valkyrie in me.
ReplyDeleteD.G.:
ReplyDeleteToo many victims in this bruised world. Sigh. Which is why Victor and Alice always find a way to tweak the noses of the cowardly and cruel. :-)
Poignant, sad, and real. We often read about abused women who are more terrified of leaving than they are staying with their abuser, but what of the children who don't have the choice?
ReplyDeleteVR Barkowski
VR:
ReplyDeleteAs a counselor, I tried my best to get those girls out of their nightmarish homes or at least the brute out of them.
Children bruised in this way always carry the scars. Though many amazingly emerge whole and stronger somehow -- but with terrible memories.
Very sad.
ReplyDeleteShelly:
ReplyDeleteYes, sexual abuse of children is foul beyond description, for its ripple effects go on for generations. Sigh.
Heart hurting. I talk to too many people, of both sexes, who have endured this. And the scars are palpable and the damage enduring.
ReplyDeleteAnd, just once, I talked to an admitted perpertrator. I really wanted a shower after that phone call.
An interesting piece that I enjoyed reading.
ReplyDeleteThank you. Love love, Andrew. Bye.
Elephant's Child:
ReplyDeleteI once worked for a Crisis Hotline, too. Sigh. The child predators ask for understanding but give none ... or mercy.
WordsPoeticallyWorth:
Thanks, Andrew. I'm happy you enjoyed my flash fiction. :-)
Too many hurt children in our world. Your flash was chilling.
ReplyDeleteBeautifully written and so sad.
ReplyDeleteBest wishes,
Anna
Hi Roland. I remember this one too, so sad when the choice is between a life of abuse and death. Our poor children!
ReplyDeleteThanks for sharing this for the WEP challenge. It is perfectly through the eyes of a child.
Denise
Nilanjana:
ReplyDeleteYes, too, too many. And there are no magic wands to wipe the emotional scars away. :-(
Anna:
Thank you for the kind words. May your days be free of turmoil.
Denise:
As a counselor I saw too many such terrible victims of similar situations. Sometimes there seems to be no good choices. Sigh.
Very moving and I like how you've shown it through the child's emotional escape route through finding freeing words.
ReplyDeleteThat was so very dark and though the child was thinking freedom, the real word was helpless. Well done.
ReplyDeleteOh, I was so hoping she'd get him back. You took me right in and I could imagine those fireworks, the darkness not only of the night but of her youthful soul and how her joy had been stolen, but then again, not totally. Great job.
ReplyDeleteMadeleine:
ReplyDeleteI'm happy you found my story to be moving and absorbing. :-)
Scheherazade:
Yes, the route for her in her mind from helpless was the freedom of death. :-(
Lisa:
I'm so glad I drew you in. I like to think she found freedom in what lays after death.
That sure was depressing - and yet not, in a way, because at least Dr Boon didn't get his way. I hope he fell out the window and died too, though!
ReplyDeleteYou got me with this the second time around, Roland. You have a great way of pulling the punches!
ReplyDeleteoH gosh ! This was sad ! BUt u did a great job trying to help them.
ReplyDeleteThis story is so powerful and sadly realistic. I appreciate your sharing it. People need to be made aware of the extent of the pain caused by sexual molestation and domestic violence. Even with the ugliest of topics, your writing is beautiful.
ReplyDeleteTake care, Roland.
xoRobyn
Robyn:
ReplyDeleteThank you for the kind, wise words. I saw too many such victims when I was a counselor. :-(
Trisha F:
The police investigated, finding the bruises on the mother and the bloody knuckles of the boyfriend. It was not a pleasant ride for him to the station.
Sally:
More can be conveyed with glimpses I think than a spotlight. Thanks for liking my story!
Ananya:
If I can raise awareness of such victims just a little then this story has served its purpose. I'm happy you enjoyed it. :-)