Tag Archives: Child Abuse

Friday Fiction – Any Person, Any Study

What a surprise to find a photo I’d submitted as this week’s FF prompt. Thanks for choosing it, Rochelle. I’m late (for me) submitting today, but I’m looking forward to reading as many as I can of the stories submitted for this photo over the next few days.

In the meantime, here’s mine – on which your thoughts and comments are very welcome.

jennifer-pendergast4

Any Person, Any Study

Past the mist and trees, past the archways, steps and bike racks, so small that it was completely invisible even though she knew where to look, Lizzie gazed at the house where she’d been born.

It was less than five miles’ walk down the hill, and less than five years since she’d lived there, but to Lizzie it was another world. Shouting and bruises were things she read about in books. Harry Potter was locked in a cupboard; Celie from The Color Purple was abused by her father.

Lizzie clutched the promise of another year’s funding tightly and turned away.

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Friday Fiction – Childhood Dreams

Fans of the old, dark, miserable Elmo, will be delighted to hear that today’s piece returns to form. Hopefully subtly enough not to upset any younger readers, but if you’ve been lulled into a false sense of security by happier posts, consider this a warning of “Adult Themes” and also “Some Readers May Find This Distressing”. Feel free to come back another time if you prefer not to read on.

As ever, I welcome feedback – good and bad. At which point I’d like to thank those who stopped by yesterday’s pitch slam – if you didn’t get chance, check out the link in my post yesterday (https://elmowrites.wordpress.com/2012/03/29/pitch-perfect/).

Thanks again to Madison for the prompt, you can find her story, and links to the others, at http://madisonwoods.wordpress.com/flash-fiction/old-truck-100-words/

Childhood Dreams

When Annie found the abandoned truck, she thought it would be a good place to hide: away from her brothers, and her father’s grimy hands. She knelt behind the wheel and pretended she could drive away from this town. But then Daddy found her there, and the truck became as grimy as his hands.

Twelve years later, her sons found the truck, barely touched by time. They took turns to sit at the wheel and imagine driving away. After dusk, they told each other ghost stories, and pretended they heard heavy breathing, screaming, and saw shapes moving in the darkness.

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