justalittlesnarky

Anti-Niche= good at many things, not an expert at any of them but having a great time all the same.

justalittlesnarky - Anti-Niche= good at many things, not an expert at any of them but having a great time all the same.

Category Archives: #trdc

Not always what you expect #trdc

The room was cool, familiar but covered with unfamiliar sounds and items. I had sat in this room countless times with my son watching his cartoons when we came to visit. But now this room had changed no long did the innocent childhood laughter fill the space, no it was now the drowning sound of the oxygen machine and the whispered conversations that took place in other parts of the house.

This transformation happened quickly, from the day that we got the call that there was something wrong to this point moved so rapidly, and so painfully slowly that it was hard for me to keep up with it all. It was like “Groundhog Day” but we where repeating the same nightmarish days over and over again there toward the end.

As we sit in the room the tension made me what to jump up and run out of the room screaming. But I force myself to stay we have to have this moment, we have to talk.

“Well this sucks!” I say as I gasp for air between stifled sobs.

“Yes it does.” she said back smiling weakly, her face showing her pain. “But there is nothing to be done.”

“I know, but that doesn’t change how I feel, we all know that I am the ‘feeling’ one in the bunch.” I give a tight smile as well and wipe away the tears cascading down my face.

“Yes, we know that very well.” She gasps for breath; at this point talking has gotten to be a burden. “I want you to know that I have always thought of you as a daughter. I am so happy that you and your son came in to my life”

“You have always been my supportive ‘parent’, more so than my parents at times. That is why this is so upsetting for me. I know that we didn’t always see eye to eye on most things but I was listening to what you had to say even if I was fighting tooth and nail against it. I am kind of slow on the uptake sometimes with things.” I sob the last part still trying to keep it together but lose that battle, so I just openly cry.

We make eye contact and for the first time in all the years I have known her I see her shed tears. I get up from my chair, she struggles to sit up more in her bed, and we hug for a brief moment.

“You will take good care of the Boys I know you will.” She wipes away her tears and instantly goes back to the stoic person I have always seen her as.

“I will try to do that” I look down at the mangled bit of tissue in my hand.

At that point there is a knock on the door and we are done talking. Activities resume, jobs are delegated things are set in motion to rap things up, the end was nearing and everyone knew it. We just didn’t know how near it was, 3 days later she was gone.
Looking back on it all now I can see the mistakes that where made and moments where lost forever. But I can also see that it was the right choice, not right choice the only choice that could be made. She was finally at peace and no longer suffering. And we where released from our horrible version of “Groundhog Day” allowed to return to life, an radically different life but life none the less.

This week’s prompt asked you to spread a little joy.You were to write a piece where you or your character overcame a challenge and, even if it’s just for a moment, has a happy ending. We also asked you to surprise us – don’t go with the obvious.

The point of that, by the way, is just to get your thinking. You won’t get “thrill points” or anything but maybe it’ll spark you to keep pushing yourself.





 I was hoping to show that there can be a little bit of joy even in loss, I may have just writen a really sad ending. I don’t know for sure please let me know if I was able to do that in the comments. Thanks for reading.

What I want…trdc

I sit at my kitchen table, with my journal and a pen the urge to write has been building. It really has turned from just an urge to almost a need to survive, like drawing a breath. I can’t confide in any one in my current life, so I write. Once the journal is full of the things I can not tell, I burn it in a small fire pit that is in my backyard.

I love the way the spine on the journal creaks as I open it. The sound of turning pages brings a small fleeting smile to my lips. The pen is cool as I pick it up from the table; it’s heavy in my hand but feels like it belongs. I take a deep breath and begin to write:

I was at the store the other day picking out some apples for a pie, I have not made one in sometime it sounded like a good idea. I heard a pleasant voice ask “what do you want?” I didn’t see who asked the question or to whom it was directed, but it was one of those moments that you can not shake, as if the voice has asked “Lea, what do you want?”. It invaded my every thought. I looked around but didn’t see the source of the voice, it gives me the chills, still. Was it them again? What did they want this time? Why won’t they just let me live out my years, they banished me.

“What do you want?” is all I could think of on the walk home from the store. That is a really good question. Before the question was asked I wanted apple pie. What if the question was deeper than just wanting pie? What do I want? My past to be just that past, that would be nice but some how it keeps popping up in my current. While I don’t think we are ever truly free of our past, it would be nice if the wounds that where suffered there would be allowed to heal, even if it leaves scares at least they are not as painful I would hope.

I want to be able to tell the story, I don’t even dare write it down. What if they found out that it was documented? Ours, well I guess it is theirs now, is of legend and lore, there is no written history of any of us nor there shall ever be. That with the fact that I am the only one to ever be banished, others where executed. Maybe that makes me lucky. But it also makes my current life a place that I will never fit. I guess that makes me want to belong, but I can not belong to my past or my current. Mistakes where made consequences where rendered for those mistakes.

I hear people say “if they could go back…”, this makes me smile because at one point I could do that, there are moments that I find myself longing for that ability, to right a wrong in the past, but my wrong can not be righted and there is no going back for me any longer.

While I am sitting here wanting, I guess I could toss love in to the pool too. I had it once and honestly I think that is what leads this mess that I am finding myself in now.

I scan the page, close the journal. The need has quieted for the moment, live can continue for now.

TUESDAY, MAY 31, 2011

Red Writing Hood
This week’s prompt is all about character development.

We’d like you to write about what your character wants most.

Which reminds me of the scene in Good Will Hunting when Robin Williams’ character asks Matt Damon’s character, Will, what he wants. And Will can’t answer. Because he doesn’t really know.

Do you know what you want most? Does your character? Write a piece of 600 words or less and come back to link up here Friday.

This prompt was inspired by a prompt from Writing Forward.

The past finds you…

“That was absolutely the last time!” she said as she shoved her chair away from the table, with such speed the legs made a screeching noise on the floor. She paced in small circles. “I’m not part of that anymore!”

He just sat there watching her with great interest, a small grin touching the corners of his lips. She fidgeted with her scarf as he studied her every move, like he was trying to memorize every line of her.

“Damn it, Dylan! Why are you here messing with my normal life. Whenever you come around there is trouble. I don’t want my present to find out about my past. You sir are my past and you need to stay there.” She slams her hand on the table causing the coffee cup to rattle on its saucer.

He watched her lips as she spoke, thinking about the warmth and softness that can be found there. For a split second he was taken back to the moment when they first met. What a crazy moment that was. He was near death, she was his healer. He has heard stories about her but they did not even come close to what he saw when she removed her cloak.

She was still talking when she turned around. Dylan, was focused on a spot to her left. She really hated when they did that, physically he was in the room sitting at her tiny table with a cup of coffee in his hand but he was really somewhere in the past doing, who knows what. She walked over to the chair where he sat, and kicked the rear leg, causing it to move slightly under his weight.

“I hate when you do that!” she kicked the chair again. “Where are you? Why are you in my present?”

Dylan shuddered as he returned to the moment. He just smiled at her with a wicked grin. He settles his heavy body into the back of the chair, and then gestured for her to sit down.

“Sit, and I will explain all of this to you” He looked up at her making eye contact that made her physically feel him, as if he brushed her face gently with his hand. She pushed her chair towards the table and sat down.

“Before you get started remember that I walked away from my past, I am no longer who or what I was back then. I thought that was made very clear by the elders. I longer had their support.” She looked at her hands, willing them to stop shaking.

He wanted to reach out to touch her hands but that would have been a giant mistake that would cost both of them dearly. He picked up the cup of coffee that was now cold; at least he was doing something with his hand. Still wanting desperately to make contact with her.

“Lea, I am sorry to intrude on your present life. I am well aware of what happened in the past, and the elder council’s position. However, this is of the up most urgency. The Exummery has sent me to find you. Not that it was hard to find you we are linked, which is why they sent me to find you.” He took a sip of his coffee and watched her face.

“What does the Exummery need from me?” She hoped it was nothing that would jeopardize her new life. She had nothing to give the Elders or anyone else.

She was wrong.

***This is my very first attempt at a prompt from The Red Dress Club for Red Writing Hood. I just wrote this for the fun of it with the thought that I would just stalking the group for a while, but I had fun with writing of this short story I wanted to share it. I have already stated to think about the RemebeRED prompt about graduation.

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