Next week being Christmas, I might be skipping FF to celebrate. Sebastian, bless him, found a present this morning and opened it, so he’s obviously ready! I’m close… just one more thing to buy, I think. Whatever you’re doing, even if it’s not celebrating ancient rites or a Christian festival, I hope you have a great couple of weeks and a happy day on the 25th.
As usual, the Friday Fictioneers are hosted by Rochelle and many other responses to the prompt can be found through her master page over the next few days. Our picture comes from Jean L. Hays, who holds the copyright. [I’ll link her site later if I find it, please feel free to send me a link if you have it]. I hope you like my offering; I welcome your critique and comments.
She dreamed of backyard swimming, of friends splashing in the pool. When the dreams grew tired from overuse, she added dolphins. In desperation, she imagined a lazy river and waving to her mother who wore a pretty dress and a wide-brimmed hat.
The hat was necessary, to hide the face she could no longer properly recall. The swishing water drowned out the voice she couldn’t bring to mind. The garden, she knew, no longer looked anything like the one where she had played. Before she agreed to help Him look for his dog. Before the room. Before the nightmare began.
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40 responses to “Friday Fictioneers – Dreams”
Just wow so sad 😦
Oh my god! That was fantastic too! Great story. Great weaving in of the serial killer plot and the poor imprisoned child. You really managed to bring it all to life and made it work. It was heavy. Very heavy, but I was very impressed by it.
Thanks Lindaura, I’m glad it worked for you. I guess I’ve just heard too many of these stories in the press recently. So tragic.
Hell’s bells, that was terrifying Jen. And terribly moving at the same time. This one will stay with me. Well done.
Sorry Sandra, maybe it should have a public health advisory at the top!
Dark, chilling and sad. But very well written!
So sad. Sometimes dreams are all we have.
When all else is lost, hope still remains, as Pandora would tell us. Or in this case, dreams.
Wow…. that went to a dark and scary place. Have a happy holiday, darling!
Brilliantly written. Horrific and tragic destruction of a young mind.
First let me save you the effort. Jean doesn’t have a website to link to. I probably should make note of that to save anymore headaches.
Then there’s you story. Wow. Chilling in the reality of it for too many. The creepiest phrase to me is “The room.” This girl is desperate to forget. Well told PTSD story.
Also, Merry Christmas. It’s much more fun with little ones. I’ll miss you next week.
I might be there, just not sure how things will pan out yet. And thanks for your comment too. She’s desperate to forget, but also desperate to remember.
Oh, you’ll figure out a way to make it happen. Just like the rest of us addicts.
Very strong piece this…
Hi Jennifer. Ohh, you start out with such happy images and work your way down to such a tragic one. Such a cleverly cleverly written story! Very impressive!
Thank you, Karen, I didn’t even know where it was going at first, but this ending seemed to fit.
Sad, haunting, chilling… So well done. Similar theme to my darker (2nd) story last week. Wonder what has us thinking about violated children. Happy Holidays, and enjoy your day off! 🙂
I missed that one last week – great turn at the endwith a reveal to us but not the family. There have been so many stories of kids (and women) locked up for years recently – mercifully rare but never rare enough, I suppose that’s what was in my Muse’s head!
I think those stories stay with me, more than others… and somehow those innocent boots, just took me there. Often I write tender, poignant stories… but there’s plenty of dark in here, that eventually spills out. 😉 Have a wonderful holiday, with lighter thoughts!
It’s hard to think how often this happens. You found a great way to put it into words.
You’ve take a lot of care with this. Really drew me into the horror.
And I clicked on the link. What does one do?!!
I don’t think there’s a lot one can do. Education, clearly, but the danger is that paranoid parents lead to unhappy childhoods – there’s a happy medium somewhere, but I’m sure if it’s your child who’s lost, no amount of precautions would have been too much.
So sad – abused children are an image that always appalls.
This a great piece Jen, for me it happens on a series of levels, the nightmare image taking centre but you also have issues with in the piece of identity. I enjoyed one.
Thanks tommy. Interesting you picked up on identity – I assume you mean in particular regarding the Mother. I’ve got a very bad visual memory – I can’t picture people at all – but I can’t imagine how it would feel if you were trapped with only dreams and memories for company.
Yes i agree, that is in itself the nightmare I would think.
Enjoy your Christmas
A prosaic, emotional taper from happy to twisted. Well done.
This was amazingly sad, so very sad! Great emotional story in just a few words.
Thank you! Maybe it’s because I’ve been doing it so long, but I actually find the word limit sometimes helps to make the story even more powerful.
You really cooked up a dandy this week. Powerful, moving, and disturbing all at once. Sadly, it’s something we hear in the news all too often. Great piece of writing.
Great story Elmo, it sent shivers down my spine!
Oh! I got chills! Great piece!
Wow! This one hit me hard. Haunting imagery in a great story!
Horrific. Because it happens. All the time. Around us, me. And I don’t know you can train a child about strangers, except on a daily basis. I’m 62 and it’s amazing how gullible I can be about people coming to the door! We’re gated. It’s been my only protection in some cases! And I’ll never be able to grasp the minds of these predators, who are not only men. A recent case has more than shocked me to the core and I thought I’d flatlined on this kind of stuff. Here in the UK there’s a positive epidemic of celebrity cases of this unspeakable sort of crime. There seems no solution. I’ve just read ‘The Lovely Bones’. Your story has echoes of this. On a lighter note, have a nice holiday!
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Nipping back to check your stories out (the ones I missed while in the Antipodes) and I find myself blown away by this one. Clear as a bell and about as far from the ‘norm’ of the prompt as one can be. Spare and dry and accurate down to the finest details, even the ones she can’t remember.
I’m off to find others (your others) now.
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