Time for another Absolute Write Blog Chain entry. This month's prompt involves slavery and freedom. My piece of fiction was inspired by a topic that is near to my heart. I have not experienced anything like this, but I have a soft spot for children. And the tragic fact is child abuse happens. It goes on undetected for far too long. So take care before reading. There are no graphic details, but it may still be hard to read. When you are finished, I hope you'll click on over to this month's other participants and see what they had to say. Thanks in advance.
Mommy is very smart. When that nice lady comes to visit, Mommy makes sure I am dressed nice and cleaned up. I think Mommy knows what the lady is looking for and what questions she will ask. Mommy always tells me what to say, and I know I must say what she tells me.
When the lady comes to the door, Mommy tells me to let her in. The lady looks over me, but I know she will not see what I want her to. Mommy is too smart. She never leaves marks where people will see. So I smile and tell the lady I am glad to see her. We sit in the living room while Mommy prepares a glass of iced tea for the lady. "How are you?" she asks me. It's a question meant to get me to start talking. I want to show her the bruise on my chest and tell her how much my body hurts. And I want to tell her how much my stomach hurts, that I have not eaten in two days. But Mommy can hear me from the kitchen and I don't dare whisper. "Great," I reply. My survival depends on how good I can lie. But Mommy is the expert, not me. My voice gives me away, and I look at the kitchen door as Mommy comes out. She looks at me, and I know I am in trouble. But now Mommy is smiling at the lady and talking about how proud my teachers are of me. I don't know if Mommy is proud. She always tells me how stupid I am.
I watch Mommy and the lady talk, and I know my time here is limited. But I don't mind. Because that means I will soon be free. I will no longer be Mommy's slave to do as she commands. And Mommy will not be able to lie. You see, I am smart too, though Mommy doesn't think so. And when I die tonight, Mommy will be very happy. But tomorrow, my teacher will find a note on her desk that I left after school. And she will know what Mommy did.
I will be free. And Mommy will become the slave.
Now, head on over to the following sites:
orion_mk3
knotanes
meowzbark
Ralph Pines
randi.lee
writingismypassion (you are here)
pyrosama
bmadsen
Poppy
areteus
Sweetwheat
Tex_Maam
MelodySRV
Tompsy77
more to come...stay tuned!
Freedom in death. Poignant and true.
ReplyDeleteYes! Freedom from that ole witch of a mommy. I can't think of anything more imprisoned than a child being secretly abused! :(
ReplyDeleteVery chilling story. Good work.
ReplyDeletevery deep, quick and aggressive, strangely how child abuse is. I really liked it and would only tweak some things here and there, but it makes for a lot of questions to be made in such a short text:
ReplyDeleteDoes a child truly see abuse as abuse?
Do children understand the value of speaking up?
What can we do to prevent them from being abuseD?
Great piece
Aw, that's really sad. My only question: the narrator's tone implies a small child, maybe around 6 or 7. Would a child that young have any concept of suicide or how to carry it out?
ReplyDeleteThanks for all the comments. I was thinking more 8 or 9, though reading through it again it does almost imply a younger child. Either way, I think kids are able to comprehend when something wrong is being done to them, even if they don't associate the word "abuse" with the actions.
ReplyDeleteAs for suicide, that's not what I had in mind. I was thinking more along the lines of the child realizing he (or she, as I left the child's gender open) realizing he messed up and wasn't able to lie convincingly to the social worker so mommy is going to be mad and probably beat him to death. Though I do have to say that there are very young children who commit suicide.
I will say, kids have a lot of complex emotions when they are abused in this way, especially if the mother is this manipulative.
ReplyDeleteI lived with a mother very much like this, but she had a degree in psychology and worked with the state agencies meant to protect children.
Family members would tell me I didn't know what abuse was and committed me to a mental ward as a child. The "problem" was deemed "environmental". The doctors suggested boarding school, but my mother opted for the mental ward, and no one objected, because the mental hospital made good money off of children like me.
I remember being locked in the yard with no shoes or water in summer while she drove away, climbing the fence and walking barefoot in 100+ weather as my feet burned, trying to get to my grandparents a few miles away.
I remember waking in the night to her hands around my throat, unable to breath, until she stopped and sat laughing at the end of the bed.
Other times she lavished me with attention and praise and fiercely protected me.
And I still love my mother. I loved her then, too. Confusing as that is. I just wish she could be happy and relatively normal. I know she's already partially in hell--there's no wishing her there, even if I thought that way.
Abuse doesn't always generate easily understood feelings. Certainly, the level of dependence a child has at a young age...Stockholm syndrome on steroids, perhaps.
Sorry, just thinking out loud.
This one hit home-- I can relate to your post in major ways. This must have been a difficult one to write and I applaud you for it. It's so honest and gritty. Nicely written. The last line really bit, too. I love it. Market this one...seriously market this one. I'm sure you'll get a bite!
ReplyDeleteTo randi lee and anonymous, sorry for what you went through and thank you for being open about your experiences.
ReplyDeleteJust too sad! Too sad :(
ReplyDeleteAbusing another human, animals, the planet...it's all just horrible, and truly it breaks my heart. Gah! :'(