I really don't have much to report in terms of what I have been up to, but I do have this tiny thing when it comes to my writing. I entered a writing contest a couple of months ago and made it to the semi-finals. It was a contest to write a 750 word story based on a prompt and the one I entered was the prompt Mommy, I Don't Like This. So this is what I came up with, let me know what you think.
-- "Mommy, I don't like this." Couldn't she see that she was putting me in danger? The woman that I love and feel should keep me away from any sort of harm was trying to do me in. Trying to get rid of me. I knew it. She knew it. The whole world knew it. Why else would she constantly bring me towards hat whirlpool. Didn’t she understand the suction power of that thing? Didn’t she understand that I can’t hold my head above water that long? Every time I hear the water sloshing and splashing, I get a feeling of read in the pit of my stomach. A pit that doesn’t come close to rivaling the pit of that whirlpool. It sinks even further when my Mom comes to get me. I watch her every time; wide-eyed as she scoops me up, saying it’s time and that I’ll have a lot of fun and that I shouldn’t miss out. Yeah, right, mother, I can see you’re just up to your old tricks. It didn’t work last time and it won’t work this time, I’ll keep screaming and crying until she gets so annoyed she’ll have to try later. That’ll work. … .. . Scratch that, it didn’t work. She still stripped me, ready to dunk me in that water; no matter how hard I tried to fight it. I never knew mothers were so strong; she had a vice grip on my arm like a python around prey. Even when I managed to wiggle away she sprinted after me and grabbed me once more, taking me against my will. She kept trying to tell me that it wasn’t going to be that bad. That it was something that everyone did and that I’d enjoy it at some point. (Insert hysterical, sarcastic laughter here). It didn't look so bad I suppose. Brightly colored and there was always a great smell that accompanied it, sometimes it smelled like bubbles sometimes it smelled like flowers. It even smelled like peaches every now and then. I like peaches. I didn’t like that whirlpool. I held my breath as she put me in the water and started to splash around, enticing me to play a little. I wanted to, but my mind was on that whirlpool. The water was calm right now, clear, and I could even see those pretty little flowers at the bottom. Those pretty flowers at the bottom couldn't fool me. "But sweetie, you have to get clean." "What if I get sucked down the drain?"
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About Me
Loves anything red. Rock music, playing the guitar, drawing, writing, tattoos, and sports are some of my interests and hobbies. I like to laugh, I like to think I'm funny. I talk a lot...just a warning. Archives
April 2017
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