The Parent Will – Half finished

Three years on, we sat at the table, anxiously fidgeting as we tried to keep our sweaty grip on the ice cold glass. I had never seen Simon look so devastated after so many precious years that we’ve spent together. His eyes were like he was looking, but you could mistake him for a blind man. Tom, my 2 year old son had never been so quiet. It was silent, but my mind was drowned by the ticking of the clock and the thumping beat of my broken heart.

 

The rain outside tapped on the windows viciously as the wind ran through the trees. I concentrated on how fast my blood was whooshing around my body, but my concentration was suddenly broken by a trembling movement of the glass, which was now shaking within our palms. My body went cold. I looked over at Simon, his mouth was shouting, screaming at the terrifying sight before him, but he couldn’t speak.

 

It was no longer quiet, the lights jumped around the room in frustration, flickering as overpowered electricity. Tom was screaming, shaking, my mind fogged by the flashbacks of my little girl’s death. I had never been so cold but so overheated at once. I felt sick.

 

Overwhelmed by the fear that rushed through my body and the sharp screeching that suffocated my mind, I sat still in the chair. Simon was now silent; his face was as white as a polar bear. Tom was staring at the uncontrollable lighting as the glass sped around the board. My hand was stuck. Simon finally spoke, shouting Rose’s name again and again, begging for her to be given to him until he collapsed. The lights stopped spinning and the room went cold. My heart was racing, my hands shaking as I looked to my right.

 

Simon was spread across the table, himself still in the chair and his hand still on the glass. I couldn’t believe my eyes as they caught a sight of the glass now covering the word ‘no’. My head was pounding as I looked back to Simon. I was so overwhelmed that I couldn’t make out what was real and what I was imagining. I shook Simon fearfully, my mind spaced out in fear and confusion. I felt a pull on my hand and my eyes sprung open, my little girl was at the other end of the table, her hand pulling at her father’s fingers.

 

She looked alive, but her face was pale. Her bright blonde hair was plaited, my memory blocked of capability of making Rose’s hair pretty. Her eyes were like glass, just like Simons a while before. Her dead eyes looked through me, like I was just another brick in the wall behind me.

 

Simon dramatically sat up, dragged his feet towards Tom and spat on him as he hurled abuse at our little boy. I got up in anger, my legs shaking as though they were jelly, the feel of Rose’s eyes burning my side. I picked up the glass and forced it against my husband’s head. I didn’t know what had happened. Tom was rolling over, his little delicate hands covering his face.

 

The lights started to flicker once again and I picked up the Quigi and threw it at Simon, shouting at him that this was his idea and the flickering suddenly stopped. I couldn’t open my eyes. They felt as if they had been adhered together with strong glue. I was dizzy, turning round and round with no control over my body. I felt a hand on my cheek as tom stopped whimpering and my eyes opened like somebody had ripped paper off the wall. Rose was stood peacefully, her thin boned arms wrapped around her daddy’s legs.

 

Her soft voice called mummy as she unstuck her fragile body, running towards me with her high pitch giggle. It had been so long since I had heard that noise. Tom was in Simon’s arms and for a moment, I felt like I had my family back. My thoughts were painfully interrupted by the concerning image of the glass covering the word no just after Simon had called Rose’s name. Before I knew it, me being in mid-thought, Rose had jumped on me. Just as I went to kiss her head, her little fragile fingers tightened around my hair as I felt the hardest and most shocking pain in my neck. She had distracted me by pulling my hair and dug her teeth into my neck.

 

My hands dropped her to the floor and I was alone. The room was quiet, silence so bitter. Rose smashed against the floor as my hands started to shake. She wasn’t moving. I tiptoed around my daughter to get to the phone, the blood I had earlier felt whoosh through my body was now pouring from my neck. I was so close but so far, the phone was in reach. Concentrating on the phone, I tripped over Rose’s arm but she laid still.

 

My heart felt like it would punch its way out of my chest as I grabbed the phone and dialled 99- something stopped me. I felt a strong force against my body and I fell to the floor. In panic, I dialled 999 again in my cheap downgraded phone and stuttered that my daughter had collapsed and that I had been bitten. The orders to get to hospital right away frightened me. I took the phone away from my ear, but the doctor was still talking which sounded like soft whispers. I had been told I could be in terrible danger, my mind starved of the knowledge of how I was supposed to feel.

 

My feet paced around my daughters collapsed body as my mind searched for answers to all the questions that I wouldn’t let lye. I felt a tight grasp around my calf. My weak and fragile 6 year old daughter had a grip that I couldn’t imagine even a boxer had. I panicked and dragged her to the car, screaming at me to help her but my clouded mind said different.

 

We arrived at the hospital and I had never seen so many disobedient children. I took a grasp on Rose’s cold hand and we walked through the clear double doors at the entrance, my eyes shocked at the sight of the amount of children that were misbehaving towards their relatives. I was surrounded by women, every with a little girl. No men other than the old guy that was situated just beyond the reception in a private room.

 

There were so many people; I didn’t know where to place my eyes. I searched the reception of the newly built, comforting hospital, screaming and slapping noises filling the air. A hospital was supposed to bring comfort and support to those who needed their service, but my experience seemed much different.

 

I noticed a woman, small and thin, middle aged, long brown hair that waved with the breeze when the entrance door opened, with what looked like the same bite mark as me. Rose was pulling on my shirt, she always hated hospitals.

 

My concerning thoughts were interrupted by a doctor asking if I needed any help. I couldn’t get a thought in edgeways, in need to understand what was happening around me. I replied that Rose had a fall, laying my hair against my neck as I smiled to the doctor. There was a sudden gush of wind and the doctor had caught a look at my neck just as she turned to take Rose to have an examination. She looked at me, turned back at walked along with Rose; as if she was not surprised that my neck was pouring with blood, surprised that she hadn’t told me to get it covered.

 

I searched around the crowded space; I really didn’t understand what was happening to me. I again spotted the woman, but she still didn’t have a child with her. She just shuffled her way around the hospital; she hadn’t moved a metre from when I last saw her. I went to walk towards her, but my feet were stuck. I was shocked enough that you’d mistake me for ice. After pulling my leg from the frozen state that I was in, I moved forward with my eyes set on the woman of concern.

 

I was again stopped by a smartly dressed doctor asking if I was the woman that had been bitten. I agreed as I looked back for the mysterious woman. She had gone.

 

I got a call from Simon, but he didn’t seem his usual bubbly self. Something was wrong, his loud voice was quiet; the strong, confident man I had married seemed to have turned into a ghost-like stranger. I couldn’t make out what he was trying to say as I trembled with fear. I hung up as the doctor directed me to a private room and sat me down before her.

 

Thoughts clouded my mind as my body felt a chill. Tom was in Simon’s care and something was seriously wrong with Simon. Concern filled my body as I delicately dialled the home number that I had received a call from but my sixth sense filled me with confusion. The number that I had been on the phone to not even 5 minutes earlier was as if no sound existed from the other side.

 

The doctor was looking at me, my vision blurred and I couldn’t hear the sound from her moving lips. I was in a daze, my mind wandering in fright for my child’s life. I picked up the phone again and it started to ring as my heart belted against my chest. To my surprise, Simon answered with the sound of his quiet voice and Tom giggling in the background. I took this chance to ask Simon what he was doing, and after a few seconds of piercing silence, he replied that he was at home and that he would wait for me to come home.

 

He had not known that I was going out or of where I was going. My gut was punching the idea that something was wrong, right into my heart. Rose. Something told me that she was in trouble. My delicate little girl. I looked the doctor in the eye and demanded that she tell me where my daughter was. My mind was wild, so many ideas suffocating me that I couldn’t breathe. I saw Rose, or so I thought.

 

A small girl passed the room I was situated in, long blonde hair and the same figure as my girl. I turned back to the doctor as she told me that Rose had gone home with her father. Panic overwhelmed me as 10 minutes ago, Simon had answered the house phone and the hospital is 25 minutes away in a vehicle.

 

I pushed myself away from the chair and swung the door open. I ran for the exit as the doctor was screaming at me that I needed a bandage on my neck. I kept running. Everything seemed to be stopping me in my path but my feet wouldn’t stop, my heart beating faster than I knew was possible.

 

My eyes were dry from the wind and the coldness had taken my breath away as soon as I had run through the double doors that I had earlier walked through. I took no notice of the surroundings around me until I was stood in the middle of the car park, screaming Rose’s name. I had run through what seemed like a life-long load of hallways and I collapsed on the car park ground.

 

My eyes searched for Rose but she was nowhere to be seen. My eyes landed on a familiar face, someone I had seen before, getting into a car with a booster seat strapped to the chair. My mind searched for places that I had seen the woman and it hit me like somebody had knocked me out with a hammer. It was the woman I had earlier seen with no child and I bite on her neck. I stood like ice in the middle of the car park as she shut the door behind her and turned around.

 

She looked straight at me, as if she sensed that I was watching her every move. My body was numb as I felt her eyes pierce my body, I was shaking. I had never been so nervous and in so much fear that I wanted to run, but couldn’t.

 

Hi guys!

Do any of you know how to get my earlier posts to show previously from the end of the page? Because i can’t find anything that says something like ‘previous posts’

 

Any help will be appreciated!

A Walk in The Park

The melting heat of the burning sun seemed as though it was piercing my un-tanned pale skin. The pond was full of pure white ducks, quacking and raising their wings at every fresh piece of Hovis bread that was delicately thrown into the dirt free, glistening water.

Families surrounded the beautiful outdoors, every bench reserved by those sat peacefully, watching the world go by. The atmosphere was so warm and humid, the world ran smoothly. The sun was beaming, sweat was coming from those I saw walking along the graveled pathway. The sky, beautifully blue, was shining with brightness, no white fluffy clouds to be seen by any delicate eye.

The world seemed a brighter place, every mouth moving. People talking as quick as they could to catch up on gossip, laughing like they had been picked up and had gentle fingertips run softly over their stomach, smiling enough that you couldn’t tell if the brightness was coming from the sun or the white teeth that chattered away.

The ducks were still bouncing around, flying from one plant to the next, grandmothers and grandchildren smiling at the pace of the energetic pond animals. It was beautiful, an adventure for the eye, as long as you looked deep and hard enough to see the beauty of which surrounds you.

Roast Dinner

The delicious smell of the roast downstairs, whiffed through the cold air and got my tastebuds attention, pulling me downstairs like I was on a lead.

I stood patiently, my stomach bubbling at the sight of the golden crisp chicken that had just been pulled from the oven. It was surrounded in fat and potatoes, crispy and greasy. I was licking my lips as I sat at the big, hazel brown table.

I couldn’t control the spring in my legs as they swung against each other while waiting for my perfect roast to be bought through to the dining room.

The delicious smell was getting closer and stronger, the excitement in my stomach grew. There it was, my favorite things bought together on a wide china plate. Beautifully brown Yorkshire puddings, crisp around the edge and soft in the middle. Sparkling chicken, crispy potatoes and veg that actually looked appealing.

New story: Coming this week

Got a story coming up this week! Started already.

Tired Eyes

I sat, drifting in the hard seat that was keeping my back still. People around me, loud, shy, funny, obnoxious types. Noises that belted through the air and bounced off every wall that surrounded me. But none that could interrupt the sharp, noisy silence that fogged my mind. Everyone was busy. Chattering, laughing, filling the room with such joy and a warm temperature. It had gone silent. The silence in the room seemed bitter, the warm temperature had turned cold. The type of cold that even a natures cold weather adaptor wouldnt step into. My eyes were sleepy. I got the strength to open my eyes to figure what the cause of the sudden drop in noise was. To much of my surprise, I didn’t see anything. I didn’t see those fidgety and energetic bodies, nor did I hear a thing. I was too tired to walk out of the cold room that I had opened my eyes to. Feeling myself wriggle in the seat that fitted my body like a shell fits a turtle, I found myself in a deep sleep.

A meal I once had

I sat anxiously at the wide brown wooden table, my stomach starved of the choice of menu I had chosen. The excitement overwhelmed me as the freshly smart waiter approached the table with mine and my family’s ordered courses. The delightful smell of the carvery made my mouth drop open. The surprise of how delicious and beautiful my meal looked amazed me. It was eye catching. The cauliflower glistened in the creamy cheese sauce that ran down my plate and I couldn’t contain my hunger and delight. My mouth still wide open and the smell of the delicious carvery in front of me, I picked up the clean silver fork and dug it into the perfectly tough meat and the incredible gravy, sat perfectly in the beautiful Yorkshire pudding. I had never had such a craving that had been fulfilled so wonderfully than when I took a taste of that surprisingly tasteful dish.

Descriptive Writing 2

Suffocated in the dark, gloomy room, a little boy shivered. Untouched, unloved and disrespected, his fragile mind abused his thoughts and his undeveloped smile. He was alone, fragile and abandoned, and the look of need and want covered his frail looking face.

Descriptive Writing 1

The little untouched boy, so abandoned, unloved and disrespected, shivered in the gloomy room that suffocated him. Abusing his thoughts, his fragile mind and undeveloped smile, he couldn’t shake the thought that he had been left alone.

Childhood Memory

I struggled to keep the wheel of my bike on the line between the gravel and the terrifying hill drop beside me. My dad far away in the distance, I watched, my cold, heavy eyes concentrated on the path I was following, wind stealing the water in my eyes and the breath in my lungs.

Trying to escape the concentration that had my eyes locked on the dull colored gravel, I looked up, the bright sky blinding my sight, as I tried to relieve my eyes from the sting as I looked forward, ready to catch up with my dad.

At that moment, he was a stick between the hills. The handles of my bike loosened under my thumbs and I lost grip of my only support. The wheels felt as though they were spinning a million miles per hour, as I grabbed hold of the hard handles while my bike took a turn and hit the edge of the hill that my eyes had been too scared to look at. I squeezed my eyes shut, shaking and crying, the eighth ocean coming from my eyes.

I stopped. I was at the bottom of the monstrous hill that I had just seen before me. I couldn’t stop my bike from trembling over into the grass, and I struggle to find my way out of the shocked state that I was in.

Crying, in the long, fresh smelling grass, I found myself lying next to my bike, my wheel spinning like it was at war against water, my dad’s legs in the distance, trudging his feet against the pedals, speeding closer and closer to assist my shaken fear.