It wasn't how she imagined it would be like. She thought it would be sweet, and something she'd want to remember forever. She thought it would happen during a date with her crush, at the perfect moment, as he dropped her off at home, just before her dad came outside to see what what going on.
Instead, she had been told she wasn't allowed to go out anywhere with a boy til she was eighteen. Then she'd snuck out her window and dragged Denny out back to her old play house in the backyard. He kissed her first, and she enjoyed it. Then a spider dropped on her shoulder, causing her to scream, and fall backwards, knocking into whatever noisy clanky thing her father kept in there. This woke everyone up, and set the dogs barking.
Denny helped her back out, brushing off any stray cobwebs, and a couple spiders before she saw them. Moments later, both her parents were standing outside, both glaring. Red-faced, she walked over to them, finding great interest in her slipper clad feet. After a slight argument, in which her father lost, no punishment was announced, and she was allowed on a date the next weekend.
Not her dream first kiss, but it was certainly different. And she wouldn't change it for the world.
NOTE:
And this is the last prompt I have from 2010.
Sunday, June 15, 2014
Tainted
Tears rolled down her face, and her arms were wrapped around her, trying to hold what was left of her together. She'd lost the battle. She was no longer that beautiful, innocent girl she was that morning. Her innocence was gone.
What was left was a hollow girl, the light gone from her eyes, reduced to a crying mess on his bedroom floor. She'd go on to live, though not surviving. Each day a battle, a battle to see if her pain would overcome her.
Each day she'd find, she got a little bit better. It wasnt a good way to forget.
To forget his sweet words, telling her he loved her, he'd never hurt her.
To forget his hand sliding up her leg, up her skirt.
To forget how he'd held her still, with only his weight against hers as he took what he wanted, not even thinking of the girl beneath him.
In the days after, she'd push it from her mind, and concentrate on making her family and her friends think she was happy. Normal.
At nights, the memories would push back into her mind, remaining as she fell asleep, giving her nightmares that no one ever knew about.
Months will go by, and sh'ed forget completely. Sh'ed meet some new friends, and they'd think she was happy too. But soon they'd learn the truth. Some would threaten to make Him ever regret doing what he did.
But they'd never get the chance.
The pain became too much for her, as she struggled alone. All it took were just a few pills. No one would notice, no one would care.
They'd all forget her, just as they'd done before.
What was left was a hollow girl, the light gone from her eyes, reduced to a crying mess on his bedroom floor. She'd go on to live, though not surviving. Each day a battle, a battle to see if her pain would overcome her.
Each day she'd find, she got a little bit better. It wasnt a good way to forget.
To forget his sweet words, telling her he loved her, he'd never hurt her.
To forget his hand sliding up her leg, up her skirt.
To forget how he'd held her still, with only his weight against hers as he took what he wanted, not even thinking of the girl beneath him.
In the days after, she'd push it from her mind, and concentrate on making her family and her friends think she was happy. Normal.
At nights, the memories would push back into her mind, remaining as she fell asleep, giving her nightmares that no one ever knew about.
Months will go by, and sh'ed forget completely. Sh'ed meet some new friends, and they'd think she was happy too. But soon they'd learn the truth. Some would threaten to make Him ever regret doing what he did.
But they'd never get the chance.
The pain became too much for her, as she struggled alone. All it took were just a few pills. No one would notice, no one would care.
They'd all forget her, just as they'd done before.
Murder
Twigs snapped, sending her heart into overdrive.
Quiet.
If she could just stop making so much noise, then maybe she could get away. Maybe she'd live to see another day.
More twigs breaking. The sound was getting closer and closer.
A hand over her mouth, trying to not make anymore noise. She held her breath for as long as she could.
The noise stopped. It was silent.
Maybe he was gone. Maybe she really would survive. Maybe he'd given up. Maybe she was underestimating him.
A pale face peeked around the tree. Pale blue eyes widened at the sight of the back of a leather jacket. She jerked her head back from the side of the tree. Praying she wouldn't be noticed.
He turned, making no noise. A piece of blonde hair stuck to the side of the tree. Careful to make no sudden noises, he walked forward, stopping on the other side of the tree.
Squeezing her eyes closed, she knew she was going to die. There was no way out. She'd given in.
A black gloved hand reached around, taking ahold of her arm. He pulled her out, throwing her to the ground.
She opened her eyes, and looked right at him. She was ready to die. She wanted it to end.
For the longest minute either of them had ever had, he stared at her. Memorizing how she looked.
"Sarah, I-"
She glared at him. "Don't you ever say my name again. Just kill me like you have all the others, I'm no better then any of them."
Her final words. He didn't hesitate in pulled out a gun, and shooting her.
He walked away. Nothing left to say to the one person he'd ever truly loved.
Quiet.
If she could just stop making so much noise, then maybe she could get away. Maybe she'd live to see another day.
More twigs breaking. The sound was getting closer and closer.
A hand over her mouth, trying to not make anymore noise. She held her breath for as long as she could.
The noise stopped. It was silent.
Maybe he was gone. Maybe she really would survive. Maybe he'd given up. Maybe she was underestimating him.
A pale face peeked around the tree. Pale blue eyes widened at the sight of the back of a leather jacket. She jerked her head back from the side of the tree. Praying she wouldn't be noticed.
He turned, making no noise. A piece of blonde hair stuck to the side of the tree. Careful to make no sudden noises, he walked forward, stopping on the other side of the tree.
Squeezing her eyes closed, she knew she was going to die. There was no way out. She'd given in.
A black gloved hand reached around, taking ahold of her arm. He pulled her out, throwing her to the ground.
She opened her eyes, and looked right at him. She was ready to die. She wanted it to end.
For the longest minute either of them had ever had, he stared at her. Memorizing how she looked.
"Sarah, I-"
She glared at him. "Don't you ever say my name again. Just kill me like you have all the others, I'm no better then any of them."
Her final words. He didn't hesitate in pulled out a gun, and shooting her.
He walked away. Nothing left to say to the one person he'd ever truly loved.
Alcohol
Bottles strewn around the room, all of them empty, all of them are beer of some kind. There are a couple unopened ones sitting on the counter, but they won't last long.
For as long as Alyssa could remember, this was her life. Her father drank all night, and slept all day, leaving his daughter to clean up the mess. So Alyssa did, if only to avoid the bruises she knew her father was capable of making on her skin.
After her mother had died only six years ago, the fifteen year old saw a drastic change in her life. She started high school on a bad note, and found herself in the principal's office more often then she saw her classrooms. Her grades were horrible, and her classmates were even more horrible.
More than once, Alyssa wondered what would happen if she were gone. Dead, or just running away, it didn't matter. She just wanted away from this life.
As she walked home again, this time with a letter from her school board, announcing her suspension from school, she felt life had put a heavy burden on her shoulders, one she couldn't hold up for much longer.
A bridge separated her from the road she lived on, and as she stopped to lean over the side, looking at the shallow water, she heard a couple of kids laughing, and riding skateboards down the street.
What she didn't expect were the warm hands that pressed against her back, making her lose her fall over the railing, down toward the river. She caught a sight of one of the kid's faces. She didn't recognize it.
She felt the cool water over her skin before she felt her head and back smack the rocks. When she tried to move her body to get up, she couldn't. As she started freaking out, the water slowly rose up, across her face, cutting off her air supply.
Panic hit her harder, and she continued to struggled, until finally she was too tired. As her sight disappeared into darkness, she realized something that made it not as bad.
It was her way out.
For as long as Alyssa could remember, this was her life. Her father drank all night, and slept all day, leaving his daughter to clean up the mess. So Alyssa did, if only to avoid the bruises she knew her father was capable of making on her skin.
After her mother had died only six years ago, the fifteen year old saw a drastic change in her life. She started high school on a bad note, and found herself in the principal's office more often then she saw her classrooms. Her grades were horrible, and her classmates were even more horrible.
More than once, Alyssa wondered what would happen if she were gone. Dead, or just running away, it didn't matter. She just wanted away from this life.
As she walked home again, this time with a letter from her school board, announcing her suspension from school, she felt life had put a heavy burden on her shoulders, one she couldn't hold up for much longer.
A bridge separated her from the road she lived on, and as she stopped to lean over the side, looking at the shallow water, she heard a couple of kids laughing, and riding skateboards down the street.
What she didn't expect were the warm hands that pressed against her back, making her lose her fall over the railing, down toward the river. She caught a sight of one of the kid's faces. She didn't recognize it.
She felt the cool water over her skin before she felt her head and back smack the rocks. When she tried to move her body to get up, she couldn't. As she started freaking out, the water slowly rose up, across her face, cutting off her air supply.
Panic hit her harder, and she continued to struggled, until finally she was too tired. As her sight disappeared into darkness, she realized something that made it not as bad.
It was her way out.
Blame
It's late at night when the sound of yelling wakes up the sleeping five year old. She sits up in bed, her red hair a tangle of curls on her head, and sleepy green eyes look around her dark room.
Kicking back her blankets, she slips off her bed, bare feet making no noise across the horrible red and black carpet. As she peers through the open door, and around the corner, she can clearly hear her mum and dad arguing. At first, this confuses her. Her parents didn't argue, they loved each other, and they loved their kids.
Out loud, she calls for her mum, and the arguing stops and a tall woman with curly blonde hair comes around the corner, a small smile of her face. She picks up her daughter, asking what she was doing awake, then proceeds to tuck the small girl back in bed.
Every night for nearly four months, her parents argue until finally one day, her dad announces that he's got a business trip he needs to go on, and will be away for a while. When asked if she could go too, the five year old was told sternly, "It's only for a short while, Ellie, and I'll be home before you know it."
A week later, Ellie woke up to a loud crash. Thinking there was a monster, at first she cowered under her mum's blanket, but then her thought's turned to her baby brother. So forcing herself up, she marched into the living room, intent on protecting her brother. Instead of the scene she was expecting, what Ellie saw instead was her mother sitting on the floor, crying, a kitchen chair was thrown across the room.
Wrapping her small arms around her mum's, she realized the truth of what was going on. Her dad had lied. He was gone. He was never coming back. For weeks after, he mother constantly told her that it wasn't Ellie's fault. But it was. She didn't know how, just was. Maybe if she'd been good, and hadn't been such a brat, or maybe if she had done better in school, and not tried to get in trouble so much.
It was her fault her baby brother wouldn't have a dad.
NOTE:
Another thing that really happened. This is actually a memory of my own, I just changed the name. My parents divorced when I was a child, and I always thought it was my fault, that I didn't behave enough for my dad to still love me.
Kicking back her blankets, she slips off her bed, bare feet making no noise across the horrible red and black carpet. As she peers through the open door, and around the corner, she can clearly hear her mum and dad arguing. At first, this confuses her. Her parents didn't argue, they loved each other, and they loved their kids.
Out loud, she calls for her mum, and the arguing stops and a tall woman with curly blonde hair comes around the corner, a small smile of her face. She picks up her daughter, asking what she was doing awake, then proceeds to tuck the small girl back in bed.
Every night for nearly four months, her parents argue until finally one day, her dad announces that he's got a business trip he needs to go on, and will be away for a while. When asked if she could go too, the five year old was told sternly, "It's only for a short while, Ellie, and I'll be home before you know it."
A week later, Ellie woke up to a loud crash. Thinking there was a monster, at first she cowered under her mum's blanket, but then her thought's turned to her baby brother. So forcing herself up, she marched into the living room, intent on protecting her brother. Instead of the scene she was expecting, what Ellie saw instead was her mother sitting on the floor, crying, a kitchen chair was thrown across the room.
Wrapping her small arms around her mum's, she realized the truth of what was going on. Her dad had lied. He was gone. He was never coming back. For weeks after, he mother constantly told her that it wasn't Ellie's fault. But it was. She didn't know how, just was. Maybe if she'd been good, and hadn't been such a brat, or maybe if she had done better in school, and not tried to get in trouble so much.
It was her fault her baby brother wouldn't have a dad.
NOTE:
Another thing that really happened. This is actually a memory of my own, I just changed the name. My parents divorced when I was a child, and I always thought it was my fault, that I didn't behave enough for my dad to still love me.
Ostrich
We never learn about them in school, and they are hardly mentioned on tv, but in my house, we've got a really old picture hanging above the mantle. It's a family member from the 1820s of someone on my mother's side wearing a hat with ostrich feathers, and a young girl clinging to her arm. Then there was my great grandpa who lived in Florida who had an ostrich drawn cart. I wish I had more then just a photo of that.
Papa used to own a farm too, but he sold it after just a few years because Nana didn't like them. That was before even my dad was born, and even he used to say that he was disappointed that Nana disliked the farm.
Would it be strange if I said that I was one day going to have my own ostrich farm? I promised Papa, and my dad that I would. Nana will be frowning on me from Heaven, or at least that's what Leah, my big sister says. She follows Nana's rules to a T.
But back to my dream. It's strange to say the least, most kids my age wanna be actors, or singers, but I'm the only one who does. At least Teddy agrees.
Papa used to own a farm too, but he sold it after just a few years because Nana didn't like them. That was before even my dad was born, and even he used to say that he was disappointed that Nana disliked the farm.
Would it be strange if I said that I was one day going to have my own ostrich farm? I promised Papa, and my dad that I would. Nana will be frowning on me from Heaven, or at least that's what Leah, my big sister says. She follows Nana's rules to a T.
But back to my dream. It's strange to say the least, most kids my age wanna be actors, or singers, but I'm the only one who does. At least Teddy agrees.
Apple
Opening my lunch, I peer in, analyzing everything that had been placed neatly inside. A ham sandwich, a granola bar, a couple of homemade chocolate chip cookies, and the dreaded fruit… This time it happened to be an apple.
Everyday, I faced the same dilemma. A fruit I disliked. At least now, my mother gave up on packing oranges, I couldn't stand those, not the colour, or the taste, and especially not the smell. Apples on the other hand, I disliked, but I could stand to force one down.
As I glanced around the noisy classroom, I noticed the teacher smiling sweetly at me. Her look translated to 'you'd-better-eat-everything-in-your-lunch-today-or-I'm-going-to-call-your-mother-again'. Yesterday, when I walked home through the snow, my mother had been waiting for me, her arms crossed, and an annoyed look on her face. She'd asked me why I'd traded my apple for someone's banana, and I was forced yet again, to explain that banana's were my favourite fruit, not apples.
Yet again, I lost the argument. So today, it was an apple. I took a bite of the crunchy fruit, and quickly finished the dreaded thing, and moved on to my cookies.
No phone call tonight, I thought smugly.
Everyday, I faced the same dilemma. A fruit I disliked. At least now, my mother gave up on packing oranges, I couldn't stand those, not the colour, or the taste, and especially not the smell. Apples on the other hand, I disliked, but I could stand to force one down.
As I glanced around the noisy classroom, I noticed the teacher smiling sweetly at me. Her look translated to 'you'd-better-eat-everything-in-your-lunch-today-or-I'm-going-to-call-your-mother-again'. Yesterday, when I walked home through the snow, my mother had been waiting for me, her arms crossed, and an annoyed look on her face. She'd asked me why I'd traded my apple for someone's banana, and I was forced yet again, to explain that banana's were my favourite fruit, not apples.
Yet again, I lost the argument. So today, it was an apple. I took a bite of the crunchy fruit, and quickly finished the dreaded thing, and moved on to my cookies.
No phone call tonight, I thought smugly.