Hold me closeA Chapter by PassionwriterKate was uprooting the
soil in her mothers newly planted rose garden, they did not bloom a bright red
but rather sagged in thirst. The sun beat down on her bare sunburnt arms. Blue eye, blonde three
year old Kate discovered that as far as she could, there was no ending to the
hole that her little arms managed to quarry. Fair brows furrowed in quaint
frustration. In disinterest she
buried the spoon in the hole and pushed the soil back, patting down the earth
with thuds while leaving imprints of her chubby like hands. Dirt concealed beneath
her nails and smeared the front of her white frock which did not inconvenience her
least. Across the lawn she
trotted onto the back porch when she’d achieved the tall foot steps with effort
it was at that moment she heard the sound of shattering glass. Knowing only
that the sound was unfamiliar it led her to curiosity where she’d gone to find
the source of the noise inside the house. As she entered the back
door straight ahead was the corridor and the front door directly ahead. The
stairway looming beside her creaked as someone’s heavy weighted footsteps
sounded beneath them. Kate awaited with widened eyes to see whose footsteps
they’d belonged too. The person manoeuvred silently down until they were within
her view. A man with a balaclava and a gun clenched tightly in his right hand
turned sharply to the kitchen where he’d overlooked where Kate stood. “Where is it?” A loud
booming voice sounded from the kitchen joined by another shattering of glass
and her mother’s painful shriek. “I don’t know what
you’re talking about” Her mother bubbled. “Tell me where it is, my
patience is wearing thin” Kate darted to the
kitchen in panic. She was defenceless and vulnerable, she did not stand a
chance but she did not care. Her mind was only set on easing her mother’s pain.
“He didn’t tell me
anything he never does” Kate stood in the
doorway within her mothers view. She was on the ground amongst a pile of broken
glasses and furniture. Her usual heart-shaped face was now a torment of pain
and confusion. Blood trickled from her left brow and she immediately spotted
Kate but ignored her entirely. “Don’t lie to me” He bellowed
so loudly that Kate let out a whimper and covered her ears. The intruder spun around
to see Kate. “What do we have here?” He
sent an evil slit eyed glance to her mother “This must be Kate” He aimed the gun at her.
“Stop please!” Cried her
mother, she began to sob. “Tell me where it is or
I swear that I’ll kill her” Her mother calmed
herself for a fraction of a minute and soon took a thoughtful look at Kate. “Okay, it’s in the
basement in the brass trunk under the stairwell” The intruder disappeared
and Kate had been frozen on the same spot to numb and confused to move. Her mother quickly reached
her examined her with trembling fingers and gripped her in a tight hug it
overwhelmed them both .This intruder, this strange unknown man returned within
a few seconds and did not take a backward glance when he tore out of the house
and drove away. “Its okay mommy. The mean
man is gone” Her daughter reassured, pushing back a strand of hair and tucking
it behind her ear mimicking the times she’d felt sadness an her mother had done
the same. Her mother wasn’t aware
of the soft sobs she was choking back until a cry broke free from her quivering
lips. Sarah disnaday was the
most popular girl when I was eleven. People praised her which alternatively
wasn’t getting them anywhere; it put them in unfavourable judgment of others.
More decisively it began to dawn on their minds that not only were it a futile
technique of gaining friendship but it lowered their self-esteem and respect. Only the desperate
searching would be idiotic enough to render Sarah an important idol in their
life. Only the people that felt concerned with being abnormally popular in
recognition of ones positive opinion would be dull enough to want to be friends
with Sarah. It was perhaps the only
thing I cared about when I was eleven. Though I despised of her just as much as
broccoli or traditional pumpkin soup, at the same time I wanted her to like me. She never showed much as
a quick gaze in my direction and as I’d once sat there staring down at her and
her gang of friends from my bedroom window she rode off across the street on
her expensively shinny bike while the others had to huddle to keep up with her.
One stumbled over her own feet and they fell like human dominoes. I giggled and
snickered. It comforted me to know
that I wasn’t the only person who’d wanted Sarah’s approval. Although I don’t think
much of being well-liked apart of my life now I still find it necessary to keep
up with socialising such as Christmas dinners and family reunions. But looking
back now on what was I realise how small the world was when I was eleven. I did
not know of love or money perhaps the only money that mattered were nickels and
dollars for candy at the shop. None of that mattered when I was eleven. Now all
I can think about is money, my life is surrounded by nothing but money and
bills. My daughter’s piano
recital is tomorrow, her name is Jamie and she’s twelve turning thirteen next
month. I know that it will burn a hole in my pocket having to buy all those
little decorations that kids find so fascinating which I cannot begin to fathom
why. I would have to scrap up a few extra dollars for the rent but it brings me
bliss to see her smile. Mom’s coming over for
dinner tonight which Jamie is looking forward too however her and Andrew still
haven’t settled an agreement with him about buying a new car. He doesn’t want
her to control our lives, which is comprehensible. It’s what he feels she’s
always doing. Since her and dad’s divorce she’s been unable to cope with being
alone therefore moulding her life into ours. My Perceptive is bias, I recognise,
but that was how I refine what I know about it. Thinking it makes me seem
callous; the truth is felt overstated as it sounds. The thought of leaving
her alone in an empty house brought along with it guilt to season the pain. In
all equality Andrew tends to be dominant for his way he’s renowned for being
overly-competitive. I adored that about him though we both secretly had our own
inside jokes about it. I didn’t want to abandon her now, it was pointless too. I
didn’t want her thinking poorly of me. “Are you alright, love?”
Andrew whispers teasingly in my ear. It had made me jump for his presence was
unknown. He wrapped his arms
around me making me feel cherished with the slight tightening of his rough
hands. “One more startle like
that Andrew and perhaps you’d love me a little less if you had to sleep on the
couch” “You are certainly one
of a kind Kate” “That I am don’t forget
it” He chuckled lowly and
withdrew himself. “Jamie needs picked up
in about half an hour” “It’s your turn to pick
her up Kate, remember” “Yes but I have very
important things to do I won’t have time to do them at work” “So Jamie isn’t
important?” “I didn’t say that” “You might as well have”
“Andrew” I warned with
the temptation in the air that would lead to a sly and dry humours argument. “Besides If I have to
sit there one more time with Mrs Mormons tits stuck to the window I might have
to buy a new car” “Is that a hint?” “Maybe” He said
disappearing from the room. Stirred with frustration
I dumped the work on the desk and ambled out of the house. “Thanks Sweetheart”
Called Andrew from upstairs, he’d heard the door slam hard enough to know my
impatience. I grumbled my
profanities under my breath but did not dare show my irritation when I’d arrived
to pick up Jamie. Jamie was the first
to meet me. She ran down the little footsteps and threw open the door to wiggle
her way in and wrap her arms around my neck. “Hello cupcake, I
missed you” “I missed you too
mommy” She closed the door
and began talking about her day as I managed to pull out before the car behind
could and knowing the drivers here as well as I do it would take a long time to
do so. “We made these
cards and we painted and I played in the sandpit with Porsche and Henry. I ate
all my lunch like you told me to mum” “That’s good Jamie”
“But mum these
girls were being mean to me” I remembered being
bullied a lot. I didn’t want this experience ever happening to Jamie and
perhaps it can’t be avoided all the time but I had to try and protect her. It’s
something that can affect ones life permanently. “What did they do Hun?” I took a sharp turn
and the car behind me had to slam on the brakes for a split second as it was
going straight ahead before I’d so ignorantly and unrightfully cut in. Jamie’s little face
looked of longing. She wanted to tell me something but her lips would not
settle to open. “Jamie what did
they do?” I ask again. When she doesn’t
reply I reach over and stroke her hair. She’ll have to tell me sooner or later.
It was not her nature to leave any problem untouched. She loved to talk and it
wasn’t until we’d gotten home that I realised she’d been silent all the rest of
the way back. © 2011 Passionwriter |
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Added on July 25, 2011 Last Updated on July 25, 2011 AuthorPassionwriterOtago, Dunedin, New ZealandAboutNothing really about me. I like tp write its a passion. I don't know if I'm good at writing. It's like hearing yourself sing you don't know if you're good or not until someone esle hears you or in thi.. more..Writing
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