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Monday, August 29, 2011

Writing Prompt-and-Share #10

Prompt-and-Share: It is Monday so it’s time to start the week off write, err I mean right. Get your muses ready for a nice long look into yourselves or your characters. I’ll go a little easier on you folks tomorrow, but for today we are looking for pieces that range between 300 and 600 words. That’s right, room to get detailed! Here’s the prompt, dig deep my friends.
You or your character has been betrayed. Write out a scene of the betrayal from the Point-Of-View of the betrayer.

My Submission:

I knock on her door, and he answers it. Her sisters murderer, sleeping on her couch and she doesn’t even know. I can’t tell her. I want to tell her. I can’t tell her. She’s so sad, she’s beautiful when she’s sad. She’s always beautiful. Why did she leave me? How did I get myself into this?

I walk past him and his girlfriend in the hallway and enter the living room where she’s standing. She sees the blood dripping from my arms. He won’t leave. He thinks I’m going to tell her. He won’t leave.

“Oh my God, Bob what happened?” she asks reaching for my clawed-up arms. Her soft fingers touch me and I cringe at my betrayal.

“The cats, they didn’t go willingly.” I tell her about bringing the animals from the farmhouse to the shelter. My babies, my companions, abandoned. Her eyes are full of concern, she touches me, she wants to heal me. Her fingers are so soft. I pull back, I don’t deserve her compassion.

I start to cry. I want to yell out that I’m not a monster. I want her to cradle my head in her chest and console me like she used to. I want her to be mine again. I’ve lost so much. So much.

She sees the tears and urges the kid to leave, she’s all about manners and it’s rude to stare at a grown man cry. He shoots a dirty look at both of us before he leaves with his girl. I look at her, hoping for a sign. She’s hardened to me a little and I don’t know why. She thinks I’m crying for the animals, she doesn’t know.

Her face softens and a lost look takes over, “where’s my sister?” she asks in the sweetest saddest voice. It’s then that I notice the deep dark circles under her eyes, the pain in her face, and the suffering pallor of her skin. A wave of nausea runs through me as the horror she must be suffering from the last 10 days of searching for her sister hits me. My legs weaken and I almost collapse.

The tears are falling freely now, I put out my hands, pleading with her to read my mind, to just know so I don’t have to say it. She’ll forgive me won’t she? How could she forgive me for burying her sister, and lying about it all this time? Because she’s Nina, she is love and trust personified. She’ll understand. She’ll help me. I didn’t kill her sister after all, I just did the clean-up. Her sister was a bitch, she was crazy, Nina will understand. She’ll take care of it, she always took care of everything. I love you Nina.

I try to speak, “Nina, please,” I beg. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.”

“Bob, I can’t help you right now. I’m at my wits end, I’m exhausted. I can’t console you, I can’t even console myself.” She said with anger.

It was like a smack of cold water hitting my face. In the 11 years we were together, she never showed anger. She’s never done this before. She’s never put herself or her feelings before mine. Is that why she left me in the first place, to learn to take care of herself before me? Well she’s learned something that’s for sure.

I straighten up and wipe away my tears. She looks ashamed and so tired.

“Okay, umm, okay, I gotta go,” I say and run for the door.

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