Mother may IA Chapter by Emily Dickinson Jr.
As Hollie questioned her good fortune she clutched the pistol like a favored stuffed bear. She clutched it tightly as if by questioning the man would make him take it away.
This wonderfully strange girl was going to be the end of him. She already had him wrapped around her finger. Even if she didn't know it, he did.
She began to smile dreamily.
He motioned for her to go on.
The lock had neatly turned and the door swung cleanly open. A purple taloned hand grabbed Hollie by her pink jacket and pullet her out the door dragging her little feet. Her shiny black shoes may not survive this day.
Mrs. Linden purred, flipping her shining gold curls over her slender shoulder. Though aesthetically he could admire her hair, he just didn't think her attractive anymore. Somehow the friendly smile from earlier seemed nothing more than a forced pleasantry now. After hearing Hollie he would never look at the woman the same again, nor the school. Strangely, He didn't rightly care.
The teacher smiled a knowing smile.
He shot her a dazzling white smile. Before, it would have been natural to smile at the lovely teacher. Now, it sickened him. A pretty pink blush stained her porcelain cheeks in a shade of rosemary.
Her dewy brown eyes glistened in tears, He really couldn't hate her as he dearly wanted. She was a good teacher and seemed to truly care for Hollie and the other students. As misguided as her care was it was there nonetheless. Hollie waited in the office for her teacher and new friend to say their goodbyes. She was kicking her feet back and forth when Mr. Johnson grabbed her soft hand. He swiftly escorted Hollie out the grand double doors of St.Patricia’s. As they were descending down the long stone staircase into the street the thick oak doors swung open once more. It was Mrs. Linden. Her normally perfect curls were disheveled her, her cheeks bright red, and her eyes wide.
He left; never looking back at Mrs. Linden’s wounded face. He walked and walked hand in hand with Hollie down the long winding cement walks of
A smile wider then the
Meanwhile Hollie was humming “If you're happy and you know it clap your hands." By the end of Hollies’ song they had arrived at a large brown-brick apartment building.
They entered the old brick building and took the brand new elevator up to the third floor. They arrived at number 316 still and and hand rung the bell, and waited.
The woman answering the door asked and seeing the man and her child blinked owlishly. Kael hearing the question looked down. There was a small woman 5'3 with a loose ponytail of hair. She was wearing cackies and an oversized jersey saying "Yeah, I love the yankees," above the number nine and “screw you." below it. Her hair was pin staight and many shades lighter than Hollies’. She whispered coldly,
Once Hollie was behind her leg and clutching her pant-leg she smiled kindly.
Thirty minutes later they were sipping tea on an old sea green sofa while Hollies’ head spun like a top taking in the familiar yellow walls. sluuuuurp!
Kael lowered his head until his bangs covered his expressive eyes.
Tears were rolling down Mrs.Deshana's face. 'perhaps I went to far.' Kael wondered.
She opened her mouth looking as if she were about to scream. Her lips shaping a violent "no" and the words “get out” that would have followed were obvious. Her voice never even got to the nn- of no. There was a sudden clutter and Hollie was standing before them both above eye level. Both her feet were planted on the asg gray coffee table. She had swept notebooks and both cups of tea on to the floor in her effort to scramble up. Both her small palms were curled into tight trembling fists.
She slams a palm against her chest.
She had tears soaking her face and dampening her jacket collar. She screamed, finally
She blubbered through the whole thing, but years of experience allowed Amy to understand every word. Her baby girl's pain had shocked her out of any thought of denial. Her screams were lost on her lips. she grabbed Hollies’ trembling arms and shoved her small snot-covered face into the nook of her neck.
She beamed through her wet lashes.
Amy finally looked away from her now beaming baby.
She held Hollie away from her body.
Kael held Holly wiped her cheeks smooth of salt-water and brought her to her room setting her on her bed.
Hollie nodded resolutely and did exactly as he asked packing away five pairs of outfits into her purple back-pack. She ran to the rest of the house and got her hair things and packed them to. She shoved in her favorite brown, stuffed-bear and gently on top put a picture of her mom. They nodded to each other and walked straight to the door. They didn't say another word to the mourning mother nursing a new cup of tea. The whole time there they had never mentioned the gun sitting at the bottom of Hollies’ Barney Backpack. Amy didn't know so many things but Kael pondered to himself perhaps it was better that way. Hollie didn't know that when she said the words "Mother may I...” that those were the last time she would say those words for many, many years. Where she was going there would be no games, not even her favorite one of "Mother, May I." There would most certainly be no mothers. © 2012 Emily Dickinson Jr.Reviews
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Added on September 24, 2012Last Updated on September 28, 2012 AuthorEmily Dickinson Jr.FLAboutIm just a highschool girl. Writing is my hobby and I think Im fairly good at it but I leave you to be the judge of that. :-) my best short stories are: http://www.writerscafe.org/writing/poisinros.. more..Writing
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