Dancing In December

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Thrillers  |  House: Booksie Classic
Its just what popped in to my head!

Submitted: December 01, 2011

A A A | A A A

Submitted: December 01, 2011



Late December in the cold of the winter the snow fell on her window, as she watche the light dance in her eyes. Each house lit in diffrent colors shining like a rainbow on the ground. A Christmas tree in each window with the window traced in lights. Her mind seemed to float away with the hopes that there would be some thing to change this holiday season from the rest. As the lights filled her eyes the sound of the front door slamming open filled her ears. He sound of a womans voice screaming her name, and cusing like no one could stop her fill her mind, and sends a shiver running up her back. She seemed to almost fly to her bed, as her voice continued to get closer. She covered herself with the thin blanket that only cover half of her body. The door slammed open hitting the wall, and behind it came a womans voice saying, "You little Brat!!". The womans voice exploding in her ears, as she braced herself for another load scream she lay still. The woman walked out of the door way closer to her bed stadealy she said, "What do you think you are doing? Are you trying to igroe me!". The woman pulls off the thin covers to expose her small body to the cold. The woman drew her hand back a swiftly slaped the girl, "Dont be a smartass little girl!!". The woman grabbed the young girl by her hair and started torwards the door of her room. She didn't fight it, she knew no to fight it. There was no point to all it would do is make her angry, and all that would do is cause her more pain. But it's not likejust that she didn't really feel pain anymore.She barely feltbeing draged through the hallway by her hair, or the sudden stop of the woman pulling her up toher face saying, "If you were never born do you thinkI would be living inthis house?!". She looked at the floor and didn't say aword. The woman shoved her head down, as she finished pulling her to the back door. She opened the door letting a brisk cold wind sweep into the house filling it with the chill.The woman shoved her out the door while saying, "If you wanna act like a little bitch the you can sleep out side like one to!".The door slamed just as she begon to pick herself off the floor. This was not new to her, but sheknew that other people were'nt treated the way her mother treated her. She knew because she watched she watched the world around her. She knew how people talked to other people, and played with other people. She also knew how no one had bruses like she did, and if they did they hid them better then she did.

She stayed out on the porch, as she listened to her mother "Helping" the men she always brought home after work. It was always this way she would wait till morning. When she was sure that her mother was gone she would check all the windows. She was always to tired to stand, so she would crawl to the backdoor. She would slowly clean her self making sure not to touch any of her mother things. She would then return to her window to watch her naboars. She called them that, but she had never met any of them. Even though she had never met them she knew what they were like, because she watched them everyday. And then her mother would return. Return with those men that she "Helped", but today was diffrent today was her day. The one day a year her mother didn't come home. It was Christmas Eve and she never came home on this day. So she would go into the living room although all the room had was a coutch and the fire place. She would take the sweets that she had hidden from her mother, and eat them while watching the fire burn. This night she fell asleep in warmth tonight as she lay by the fire.

She awoke feeling a heaveness on her lungs, as she opened her eyes she saw nothing but flames, and for the first time she heard her mother call for her in such a distressed voice. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . and then blackness.


© Copyright 2018 Alice Fairard . All rights reserved.

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