“Lucy, are you ready to go?” my mother said, her blondness a slim shadow on the far wall I was desperate to ignore.
“Lucy?” she called again, temper peppering her voice. I didn’t care. All I wanted was to sit here wallowing in sullen misery in the dark. She never let me just be. I’m not like her, all peppy and perky and social.
No, I’m about as anti-social as they come, more by choice than anything else. I could have friends if I wanted them, but having friends was too much work. It required plastering on fake smiles and exchanging insincere pleasantries I could do without.
My mom didn’t understand this, though, and tried to force me into activities that were neither interesting nor fun. I wasn’t graced with athletic skills. Roller skating caused me pain. Church youth groups were too chipper. Sporting events held in too bright gymnasiums that smelled eternally like sauerkraut and wet dog made me retch. The darkness under the bleachers gave way to illegal activities I wanted no part of.
No, I’m rather content just being me. I do my greatest thinking alone. I’m at my best when I’m alone. People like me? We’re a dying breed. The rest of the world just doesn’t get us. They think we need fixing or something. Solitude does not equal broken.
The last time she took me to a sporting event she discovered the brutal lines carved on my arms. They were a mixture of red and pink, old and new, evidence of my fascination with self-inflicted pain. There’s just something about the merlot colored liquid weeping from white flesh that arouses me. Of course, she didn’t understand that either.
My mom finally had enough. She made an appointment with some quack who rented a corner office in the building where she worked. After spending a mere fifteen silent minutes with me, he questioned my mother’s capabilities in providing for me. Their shouts echoed through the empty hallway. My mom shut the door to his office so hard as she left it made the doorknob rattle. I’d never seen her so alive. When it was all said and done though, she surrendered me to his trust.
“Lucy!” Her voice was red hot now. I stared at her shadow for a minute more before acknowledging her. She softened and sighed.
“I don’t know what else to do with you. You’ve wandered so far away, I fear you’ll never find your way home again.”
I sit in my rocking chair enveloped in darkness. A small slit of sunlight shimmers on the cold linoleum beneath my feet. The fancy white shade is pulled almost all the way down, just the way I like it, revealing only a small portion of my entombed reality. The gold field beyond the wired window fades away into the rolling green hills edging the horizon, enticing me. If I listen hard enough, I can hear them calling my name…
The picture at the beginning of the story was the prompt from Bloggy Moms Writers Workshop this week. Are you a blogging mom? Come join the workshop!! You’ll find useful writing tips and weekly prompt there with week long linkups to showcase your writing.
This is also a response to the StoryDam Weekly Challenge: “where is it?” in which we were instructed to write a fictional (or non-fictional) piece in which your character has lost something important.
Do you know what my character lost?’
I also worked in the 3 Word Wednesday prompts from this site also according to the definitions they offered for them: Brutal, Sullen, Trust.
And finally, I also utilized Trifecta‘s word prompt this week, though I did neither the 33 nor the 333 word count requirements. The word this week was “Weep” using the 3rd definition of: to exude (a fluid) slowly : ooze <a tree weeping sap>