So I decided to stop at a café on the beach before heading inland. This is the first time I’ve ever participated in a group writing project, but I heard about it from so many great sources, that I had to join in – hi Robert! To find out all about it go to Middle Zone Musings. This entry is inspired by ‘adversity’.
The Monster
There is no dawn, only a slight variation in the darkness. Her body complains with every movement, even just the breath easing in and out, in and out. It’s all she can manage in those few moments of stillness. The bruising, the tearing, the wretched muscles, all so present in her consciousness she can barely feel the bed beneath her.
She dares not move, fearing that if she moves, it will wake. Perhaps if she lies still for long enough she’ll melt into the bedclothes, sink in like a spilt drink and leave nothing but a stain. Such relief in the thought of disappearing, dark, safe comfort that no-one around her can give. She hides all this from them, keeps her grotesque nature secreted away. What would they think if they knew? She feels their imaginary disgust as keenly as the rents in her body.
Her body? This body is no longer hers. Distorted, distended, abused. It will never return to what it was and the tiny bit of herself that is still awake deep inside screams in protest at what she has done. How could this have happened to her?
A noise in the darkness and she tenses, holding her breath even though it burns her chest to do so. Please, not again, she prays silently to a God that she doesn’t believe in. Please, just a moment longer, just a moment more. I don’t think I can get through this day. I don’t think I can get through this life.
She sees herself running to the window, throwing herself through the pane and plunging to the stones below, accompanied by the tinkling of a thousand shards of glass landing around her. She sees her body, limbs at impossible angles, feels herself floating up, freed of the tortured flesh. Then the ocean is skimming beneath her, as she flies far away.
A gasp from the far side of the room drags her back and the anxiety rushes into her like a winter wind through an open door. The baby cries out, needing her. She pulls herself up, wincing, crosses the room to the cot and the tiny person within. She feels numb.
The birds begin to sing, the sunlight streams in but nothing penetrates the darkness. There is no dawn.
{ 10 comments… read them below or add one }
Emma, what a vivid depiction of the days when there is no dawn. It makes me want to reach out my hand to her, and whisper, this too will pass.
Joanna Young's last blog post..A Blog Birthday, an Easter Egg Thank You, and a Request
A dark and perfect description. whoa, had to take a breath.
Diana's last blog post..All wells eventually run dry in the desert, cont.
Oh God. Extremely powerful writing and again, it moved me to tears.
Your story made me shudder – what a perfect description!
Well! You certainly know how to grab a reader's attention, Emma – I was riveted from the first word! Well told!
I'm honored that your very first groupwrite project would be ours. Hey, a tip o' the hat to ya!
Perfect.
Terry Heath's last blog post..Choosing Teams
Thank you for such lovely comments everyone, as I confessed to Ulla earlier today, I was very nervous about putting this out there, but now I know that with a community as supportive as this one, it's fine.
Powerful, disturbing, real.
Brad Shorr's last blog post..Business Blog as Base of Operations for Online Marketing
Very interesting – very evocative and dark. A story unto itself. I'm intrigued, pleasantly intrigued.
jan geronimo's last blog post..Blog Contests To Help You Become a Better Writer
Thank you Brad and Jan. Exposed to the light, writing this has really helped.