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    poetry


    dots Submission Name: Flash Backdots
    --------------------------------------------------------





    Author: Magger32
    ASL Info:    18-female-PA.
    Elite Ratio:    2.45 - 53/131/124
    Words: 673
    Class/Type: Random Thoughts/What you did
    Total Views: 1620
    Average Vote:    5.0000
    Bytes: 3291



    Description:
       The things I've gone through in my life no child should ever have to endure. This is one of my latest flash backs from my earlier childhood. Peace!
    Magger


    Make the font bigger!! Double Spacing Back to recent posts.

    dotsFlash Backdots
    -------------------------------------------


    FLASH BACK

    There is a little girl, about six sitting on a swing. She's dragging her feet against the ground. She looks up towards the sky as a storm cloud starts to pour rain down on everything in sight. She feels like she's the only one being rained on, and she starts to cry. She thinks her life is so messed up, actually, she knows it is. A loud scream splits through her thoughts, it's male. The voice seems to be an angry one. It's her father; which she can't really see clearly through all the rain. She stays in the swing, and starts to pump her legs to bring her higher into the sky. She feels like if she tried hard enough she'd be able to fly right into another life, maybe even a normal one. A hand snatches her from her seat and yanks her down to the ground. She's scared since she can't see what's happening. She can only feel hate, pain, and a sense of loneliness.
    She wakes up hours later on the cold damp ground, with a swing slowly rocking with the wind above her head. She tries to sit up but she can't. She can't move at all, she's paralyzed. All she can do is look around her in fright. She hears laughter and looks around. She sees nobody in sight. The feeling of eyes on her makes her start to cry. Suddenly she stops and listens. There is music in the background coming from the window next door. It's sweet and homey, something she's been longing to hear.
    She gets herself together and looks down at her arm. Her shirt is torn, her shoes are off and her head is spinning. She puts a hand on her head and when she pulls it away it is covered in dark red blood. This makes her scream out of rage. She is at once silence by her father's voice, powerful and commanding. She can't seem to make sense of what he's saying. Knowing he was and still is angry she slowly rises to the ground and makes a run for the house next door. Every jolt to her shoulder made more tears stream down her face, but all she knew was not the pain, but that she had to get to the house next door. Footsteps behind her make her give up and fall to the ground where she is then kicked and screamed at until she blacks out.
    The next time she awakens she is in her bed. The covers feel so soft, as do the pillows. Lying there she thinks about how she got there, all she draws is a blank. She can't believe how much she can't remember. She only remembers the pain because she can barely move. Barely able to move at all, she climbs up from her bed and moves to her dresser on the other side of the room, there is a mirror. She takes a good look of her image, and can't believe how ugly she is. Her face all covered with purplish blue bruises, her hair darkened with crusty blood, and her lip swollen and her eyes just the same. A small sound escapes her lips, a sound of horror and pain as she realizes....
    Another day comes around and she goes to school all bruised, all the children laugh and point and all the adults 'tisk' at her appearance. She feels like she is the one to blame. She knows it'll just happen again sometime, depending on HIS mood.




    Submitted on 2007-05-26 12:58:12     Terms of Service / Copyright Rules
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    ||| Comments |||
      *Hugs*
    This whole story hurt my heart.
    My body seemed to suddenly turn icy....
    my eyes have welt up with tears...
    I hope you truly find writting as means of release......
    | Posted on 2007-07-27 00:00:00 | by theDevilsPocket | [ Reply to This ]
      i think it is important to be able to write down these flashbacks. for being able to put them into writing gives us the ability to put them in order and into perspective and find a way to move forward and unclog our minds. it also takes some of the power out of the event too.

    abuse is something that is so destructive. i am not sure why children are taught to think it is their fault. that they were asking for it in whatever form it comes. it makes me so angry. so sad.

    the only things i would want to point out writing wise is that you say "she" way too many times and that when you say she is paralysed you need to have a think because in the next sentence you have her getting up and walking somewhere... just make sure that your story/images are plausible... if you said paralysed by fear that would be okay because the reader would know that it wasnt physical paralysis.

    but keep writing through these flach backs.
    i hope your life is much safer now and there is hope to be found
    | Posted on 2007-07-11 00:00:00 | by Someones Epiphany | [ Reply to This ]
      Things like this make me sick, men like that deserve the worst thing imaginable as punishment. this story brought tears to my eyes and a rage of anger and sadness to my hert. this kinda hit home...ive been through this before just it wasnt my father...anyways i am sorry you had to endure such terrible pain..my heart goes out to you.
    | Posted on 2007-07-02 00:00:00 | by EL | [ Reply to This ]
      Such is a case for an alternate family member or perhaps just an alternate family. It's hard to believe that no one notices abuse too many times until it's too late. Children are precious and anyone who doen't care properly for one is not worthy of being called a "parent", but rather should be called an "inmate".
    | Posted on 2007-06-26 00:00:00 | by Blue Monk | [ Reply to This ]
      Hmmm. Gave me a cold, unpleasant feeling, as all abusive stories do. (see "Legacy") the feeling of being laughed at, and being separated and diffferent and other adults somehow knowing, yet not interfering...not uncommon.
    Giving her a name perhaps might make it more urgent, dependent on reader's identifying with the name...the magnification of the events, when experienced by a child is well handled, (assuming the child is able to return to school after being beaten to pulp-),
    Keep the stories present in the publics eye.
    | Posted on 2007-06-19 00:00:00 | by koster | [ Reply to This ]


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