Archive for December 23rd, 2012

23rd December
2012
written by amber

Spoken Words

“I don’t deserve this,” Andrea thought.

She sat on her bed, back against her bedroom wall, looking out her window. Jack Frost had visited last night, and the window panes were adorned in ice tinged masterpieces.

A gentle ‘rap-rap’ sounded on her door, followed by a quiet voice.  “Andrea?” her Father called from outside her door, his voice gentle and quiet.

“Leave me alone!” she screamed, viper like, venom dripping from her very words.

Silence.

“Sweetheart?” the word drifted through the door, again delivered in a gentle and quiet tone.

“Go away!” she screamed again, more venom injected, more poison delivered.

“I love you, Andrea,” her Father said, gently, “I ju-“.

“Shut up!” she screamed, louder than ever, halting her Father’s attempt at communication. She added four words that she regretted just as quickly as she said them. “I don’t love you!”

The silence was momentarily absolute. All she heard was a loud squeak in the hallway as her Dad stepped on the loosened floorboards at the top of the stairs; he was walking away.

A minute or so later, she heard his truck start. She stood up and walked to the window, and looked out through the Jack Frost window. She watched as her Dad backed down the driveway and stop just before he pulled out onto the street. His face appeared as he turned on the interior lights in his truck. He lifted his hand in a wave, a peace offering offered across the snow and through the frosty dawn air.

She turned her head away and sat on her bed, and heard him drive away.

“I wish he would never come back!” her words sliced the air like a switchblade, cutting deep and quick. She wished their phone worked, it had been down since yesterday afternoon, and her parents did not believe in cell phones, she would phone her Mom at work and tell her what her Dad had done.

Ever since her Mom had started working at night on the weekends, driving a forklift at the grocery warehouse, the same place where her Dad worked weekdays, her Dad and she had come to a point of total disagreement, regardless of the situation. She knew her Mom would be home soon; as her Dad and Mom switched vehicles on Monday mornings. His shift started when hers ended, and they would share the vehicle; her Dad caught the bus home after work. If her Mom had been here, her punishment wouldn’t have been so severe. Now, because she had come in two hours after her curfew last night, she had been grounded for two weeks. It wasn’t her fault she had lost track of time, it wasn’t her fault she had been having fun at her friend, Melissa’s house, and forgotten to check the time. Andrea realized that this was not the first time she had missed her curfew, but thought it unfair to receive such a harsh punishment.

An hour later, Andrea sat at the kitchen table eating a slice of toast smothered in a huge dollop of homemade strawberry jam. She thought it strange that her Mom hadn’t come home yet, she was usually here a half hour ago. As she put the last of her toast into her mouth, headlights gleamed into the living room. Her Mom was home; she would be able to complain to her about her Father’s unjust sentence.

As she put her plate on the counter by the sink, and tightened her housecoat against the morning chill, she heard the back door open. “Good morning, Mom!” she called out cheerfully, forgetting the anger she now felt towards her Dad, as she stepped around the corner to welcome her Mom.

Her Dad stood there, his eyes red and swollen. Andrea felt the colour and warmth leave her face.

“Where’s Mom?” Andrea pleaded, more than asked the question.

Her Dad just stood there, tears tracing a path down his tired and pale face.

“Where’s Mom!” Andrea’s pleading turned to a demand.

Her Dad shrugged and began to sob. “Thi…this morning,” his voice trailed off, than haltingly started again, “The forklift…the forklift fell off…”

Andrea, caught a sob in her throat, threw herself at her Father, and held him tight.

23rd December
2012
written by amber

Here is a line to inspire you for this week’s short story –

“I don’t deserve this,” Andrea thought.