The Mighty Pen flash fiction contest is a just for fun writing contest (inspired by my wonderful husband). I post the beginning of a story – and you post an end! I will choose a winner and several honorable mentions. The contest is open until Sunday night and the winner is announce on Monday where I feature them on my blog. Check out past winners on the tab above.
Note: This is a family friendly blog – so please keep it PG rated. Thanks!
Candle light reflected off the blade, which caught my attention. Suddenly the air around me felt cold. I took a few deep breaths and then pushed in. At once the skin separated and electricity ran through me.
ReplyDeleteI set the razor beside the candle and crumpled my head into my hands. It was late, and I shouldn't have been awake, my arm shouldn't have been bleeding...But I was awake, and my arm was starting to feel wet as the blood started to collect and drip.
There was a knock at my door, "Anna?"
"Yea, Mom, what's up?" I asked trying to sound like I hadn't been crying.
"Can I come in?"
I looked at the clock, she went to bed hours ago. "Give me a sec." I found a hoodie and threw it on. I put the razor blade in the top drawer of my dresser, so she wouldn't worry. "Okay," I called out.
The door opened and my mother stood there like the living dead.
"You okay?" I asked.
"I'm sorry," she told me.
I stared at her like I had no idea what she was talking about. I refused to accept an apology unless she'd actually admit why she's sorry. I forced myself to stand still, to be silent, to focus on the warmth running down my arm, soaking into my sleeve.
"For everything. For the last four years, for Jamie leaving, for...everything, Anna. I know I was the cause of it, and I know.." her eyes darted toward my arm and quickly away. "..I know you've taken things really, really hard. It's not your fault."
I shook my head to be sure she was real, to be sure she was actually saying these words. When she didn't vanish, I allowed her words to sink in and stumbled backward toward my bed until I was able to sit. I took another deep breath, "I'm sorry, too."
As if my words were an invitation, she sat beside me and put an arm around my shoulders. Her eyes again drifted to my arm, and I knew she knew. "We've got to stop hurting ourselves, honey. It can't be this hard all the time..."
I nodded before I felt the stinging in my eyes. My throat tightened, and I tried to swallow. "I know, Mom. I'm trying to get better."
She tucked my head into her chest and held me as I fell apart. "I am, too..." she whispered, and for the first time in a long time, I felt something like hope wash over me.
...That may have been too long for "flash fiction"?
ReplyDeleteIf that's the case, sorry!
That's okay - sometimes when you have an scene in your head you have to write until it is finish. :)
ReplyDelete