Abuse

Her father laughed uncontrollably as he sipped his beer then gently placed the can on the arm of the chair. Jeanie didn’t dare look up at him from her spot under the cushions. With her eyes closed she prayed while pondering the laugh. Was it a laugh of anger coming from him? Or simply a playful laugh of a loving father? Jekyl and Hyde was the daily game she played her father.

He grabbed the beer can and chugged what was left then tossed it aside. She now understood the inevitable. Slowly she peered from behind the cushion and glanced up at the monster above.

Today was not her day.

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Mind of Shoo

The man shoved the woman to the ground. “Shut up you dang bitch! You are worthless,” he screamed a her. “A worthless whore” he mumbled as he walked away. Slowly she stood up. She felt the blood streaming from her nose and the puffiness of her eye. She looked towards the doorway. There stood her seven year old son staring at her blankly.

“Scotty.” a voice said, waking the young man out of his gaze. “Why are you here? The burial ain’t for another couple of hours?”

“I don’t right know ma’amm. I reckon’ I just wanted to make sure they were putting paw in the ground,” he said. “It had to be. He can’t come back ma’am. Our lives diverge from this moment in time. He got what was coming to him. Me and maw got peace. I ain’t happy. I ain’t sad. I am just content. It’s over.”

This fiction was written for VisDare 21: Diverge

Tough to write only 150 words about what came to mind from this picture.