Lyn05
05-01-2009, 06:52 AM
Hello, I'm new to this forum and I'd like to share this short story of mine with you all. Please do comment;any feedback is greatly appreciated! Please do feel free to correct any forms of error too...thank you very much!
Wind after rain
“It has just stopped raining,” said Mrs Kat, who had just entered the room. “The breeze is nice and cool. You will be allowed to go outside if you behave.”
The wind after rain had always brought back memories for Lynn Watterson. It still did. She would remember her mother’s raspberry lips curling up in a gentle smile, as the breeze came to tickle her heart-shaped face, and how that gentle smile brought a sparkle to her round, sepia eyes. Her eyes… Lynn had them too. In fact, Lynn had more than just that. She had her mother’s stubborn nature, which occasionally ticked people off. She had her mother’s thick, wavy hair, just that hers wasn’t blonde; it was hazelnut brown, like her father’s.
Her father.
Lynn winced at the relation. She abhorred the fact that she shared the same blood as that...that person. She hated the very mere thought of him. It absolutely disgusted her. It made her feel…tainted. Before she knew it, a lump had formed in her throat and tears sprung to her eyes. And her clean, fair skin marked with scars was smeared with red. But she felt no pain, because she knew she had to get rid of his blood, and purge herself clean.
“Now, now, dear. You’re hurting yourself…” Mrs Kat tried to calm Lynn down, but the whimpering child had begun her routine of scratching herself bloody.
“He…he’s a monster…he killed-he murdered my-my-”
Mrs Kat sighed. The girl always said that every time she went into this frenzy of hers. “Now, dear, how many times have I told you? You can’t say that about him; what happened was an accident, you know that. You cannot blame him, he is your fa-“
“HE’S NOT MY FATHER! HE’S NOT! He’s not…he’s not. Not my father, not…” Lynn’s eyes widened in horror as her face paled, her lips slightly apart. “He’s not…”
Mrs Kat felt like slapping herself. After five weeks of caring for the child-teen, in fact-she still could not commit to memory not to mention the untouchable word. Any reference to any father, no matter hers or not, and the child would start screaming her lungs out. Mrs Kat sighed again. Well, might as well get on with her work…
“Come child; let me get that cleaned up…”
Lynn, still trapped in her prison, backed into a corner, against the padded, sound-proof walls of her basement room, which was under the watchful eye of her father. Her wealthy, influential, psychologist father, who had deemed her insane. Her father, who never wanted his dark secret to get out.
All the while, the fresh, cool wind continued to blow outside, oblivious to Lynn’s torment and pain.
Wind after rain
“It has just stopped raining,” said Mrs Kat, who had just entered the room. “The breeze is nice and cool. You will be allowed to go outside if you behave.”
The wind after rain had always brought back memories for Lynn Watterson. It still did. She would remember her mother’s raspberry lips curling up in a gentle smile, as the breeze came to tickle her heart-shaped face, and how that gentle smile brought a sparkle to her round, sepia eyes. Her eyes… Lynn had them too. In fact, Lynn had more than just that. She had her mother’s stubborn nature, which occasionally ticked people off. She had her mother’s thick, wavy hair, just that hers wasn’t blonde; it was hazelnut brown, like her father’s.
Her father.
Lynn winced at the relation. She abhorred the fact that she shared the same blood as that...that person. She hated the very mere thought of him. It absolutely disgusted her. It made her feel…tainted. Before she knew it, a lump had formed in her throat and tears sprung to her eyes. And her clean, fair skin marked with scars was smeared with red. But she felt no pain, because she knew she had to get rid of his blood, and purge herself clean.
“Now, now, dear. You’re hurting yourself…” Mrs Kat tried to calm Lynn down, but the whimpering child had begun her routine of scratching herself bloody.
“He…he’s a monster…he killed-he murdered my-my-”
Mrs Kat sighed. The girl always said that every time she went into this frenzy of hers. “Now, dear, how many times have I told you? You can’t say that about him; what happened was an accident, you know that. You cannot blame him, he is your fa-“
“HE’S NOT MY FATHER! HE’S NOT! He’s not…he’s not. Not my father, not…” Lynn’s eyes widened in horror as her face paled, her lips slightly apart. “He’s not…”
Mrs Kat felt like slapping herself. After five weeks of caring for the child-teen, in fact-she still could not commit to memory not to mention the untouchable word. Any reference to any father, no matter hers or not, and the child would start screaming her lungs out. Mrs Kat sighed again. Well, might as well get on with her work…
“Come child; let me get that cleaned up…”
Lynn, still trapped in her prison, backed into a corner, against the padded, sound-proof walls of her basement room, which was under the watchful eye of her father. Her wealthy, influential, psychologist father, who had deemed her insane. Her father, who never wanted his dark secret to get out.
All the while, the fresh, cool wind continued to blow outside, oblivious to Lynn’s torment and pain.