What can YOU say in six sentences?
Unwanted Guest
Jenene beckoned for him to follow her outside onto the porch, not wanting their daughter to hear.
“Why are you here,” she asked.
“To ask if you’d give me another chance, a fresh start.”
She turned away “Carlo that won’t work anymore,” as she disappeared behind the door.
He banged and shouted, “You mark my words I’ll get you back, Bitch.”
She called 911 and put her gun under her pillow.
Added by Jeanette Cheezum on May 7, 2013 at 12:32am — 10 Comments
A Matter Of Enchantment
Sonny, the boy, transformed into a traveling ventriloquist, away from boyhood abuse, beatings, particularly on and around the head terrorized and traumatized his thought process so he could think of little else other than what blows or humiliating punishments were to descend upon him for no reasons other than his existence, the child of another woman, deceased.
Five years of age, two years after the death of his mother, a particular transformation, an enchantment, began to…
ContinueAdded by Russo Lewis on April 8, 2013 at 12:30pm — 5 Comments
Six Different Deaths (Number three: Concussion)
He named the squalling baby Jedediah, left the room where his third wife had labored, and spent the night roughly impregnating his fifth wife, whose body was fresh and cunny was still tight.
If a woman didn’t keep herself up to his standards, he would strike her face hard enough to break a cheekbone. If she let herself go a second time – even in childbirth he insisted on upswept hair and sweet breath – he would break…
ContinueAdded by Gita on October 17, 2012 at 11:30pm — 16 Comments
Oobatz
The deck was stacked against my dad. His mom, nicknamed by us grandkids, "Grandma Ooobatz," demoralized and beat her kids when she wasn't busy shoplifting from the local grocery or lifting tchotchke from the homes of poor Italian immigrants in the neighborhood. So Dad's start as a delinquent and eventual decline into madness should not have been a surprise to any of us. Everyone says they have crazy families. If that's true, we need to come…
ContinueAdded by Jami Ouellette on December 21, 2011 at 8:52am — 2 Comments
I Still Forget
Added by Sissy Anderson on November 10, 2010 at 3:01pm — 14 Comments
An Inside View
She was still sore and frazzled from the night before, he'd degraded her in front of the household, leaving her standing dumb and motionless as he went to every room in the house, gathered up all the dirty laundry and bed linens, and dumped them on the floor.
He reinforced his demands and accusations by hissing in her face with reminders of her of how stupid she was, and yelling loudly how fucking worthless she was, demanding "can't you fucking do anything you stupid bitch?"…
ContinueAdded by Sissy Anderson on September 10, 2010 at 12:00pm — 12 Comments
The Ultimate Predator
He used to come home drunk, I'd wake up to him choking me, while I had a sleeping baby in my arms.
When I stopped being afraid of him, he found a way to hurt me, and he hasn't stopped since.
He goes for our daughter, preying on her needs, preying on her desire, preying on her innocence.
He stalks and smiles, threatens and buys, pushes and takes, snears and laughs, ignores and sufficates.
He chews her up and spits her out every time,…
ContinueAdded by Sissy Anderson on August 11, 2010 at 8:30pm — 9 Comments
Til Next Time
"It's happening again", she thought to herself.
Waiting, again - Waiting for him to keep his word, he said he would this time.
Standing out there, alone, again, the words form in her mind, "You sonofa...!"
"Perfect!", she exclaims to no one, as the rain descends on her mood.
Her watch tells her it's too late; She is thrown away.…
ContinueAdded by Bonnie on August 6, 2010 at 8:59am — 4 Comments
Mind Games - Murder on Her Mind
“The trouble with you,” he sneered, as he ran his finger along the door-top and flicked an imaginary speck of dust into the sterile dustbin, “is that you are slapdash with the housework.”“The trouble with you,” she thought, as she gnashed her teeth, her blood seething, “is that you’ve got it coming to you, and you don’t even realise it.”Each day, he criticised something in order to undermine her self-esteem; her hair, her clothes; her…
ContinueAdded by Tanja Cilia on July 1, 2010 at 7:31am — 2 Comments
" Love Hurts "
Sonny stepped into the hallway of luminous light of their home and says in a singsong voice, " I love you, Daddy. "
She wore a grease-stained shirt--floor-length and white as a nun's habit-- she appeared weathered, frail but still, bright as an angel's halo.
He nods at Sonny's confession, folding back the fly of his pants; the belt taps her heart and chimes, " You love me most of all, baby girl. Yes, you do. Now, show Daddy just how much you love him. I'll show…
ContinueAdded by Gina Marie on June 25, 2010 at 4:00pm — 5 Comments
They Did The Best They Could ....?
The two of them, a team of conflict and strife; But together in their haunting.
It was a windy day, to be sure, and as if on trial, she is called "a witch" by someone who should love her instead.
He seems called to duty, chopping at her hair; As if that will make her less scary-looking when it's windy.
The lurker stands back as far as the wall will allow, slightly grinning at the…
ContinueAdded by Bonnie on June 14, 2010 at 8:43am — 5 Comments
THE MURDER OF CHILDHOOD
He was an ex-monk who fondly explained “that way of life did not work out for me,” to the Catholic and Protestant group that raised funds for a boys home and hired him to run it; and I recorded that same statement as part of a twenty minute documentary about care for a number of the Travelling Community boys, who as imbibers of glue fumes were regarded as “disruptive elements” among the shop keepers in the centre of Dublin.
Three years later, in a second TV current…
Added by Peter McNiff on May 28, 2010 at 12:00am — 12 Comments
Andy Was a Beauty (1)
Added by Sissy Anderson on May 26, 2010 at 10:30pm — 6 Comments
" Our Love "
I am very hard and she is still soft with childhood and so she is a better world to me.
She's great at keeping secrets and I trust her.
" This is a manifestation of love, our love, " I say to her as she perches on my thigh, her shoes swinging over the floor.
" I promise I won't tell--cross my heart and hope to die."
Our secrets could dismantle lives with their shame and violence.
" Yes and I know you won't, baby girl -- No would understand.…
ContinueAdded by Gina Marie on May 25, 2010 at 4:27pm — 4 Comments
Coping with Abuse
Added by Sissy Anderson on May 19, 2010 at 9:30am — 12 Comments
Learning To Count
Added by Deborah Jovan Reed on March 31, 2010 at 9:07am — 8 Comments
Never Sleep, Never Die
Added by Deborah Jovan Reed on March 30, 2010 at 9:14pm — 5 Comments
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