WritersBeat.com
 

Go Back   WritersBeat.com > Write Here > Non-Fiction

Non-Fiction Journals, biographies, memoirs, etc.


Little Girl

Reply
 
Thread Tools
  #1  
Old 01-13-2011, 07:58 AM
MasumiJeanett (Offline)
Pencil pusher
Official Member
 
Join Date: Jan 2011
Location: Florida
Posts: 14
Thanks: 6
Thanks 2
Default Little Girl


There was this girl, you see. She had been that little girl who was everyone else's Hell. That is to say, everyone loved her because they could release their suppressed anger onto her, for they knew she would do nothing in return, because she was just that sad little child who had been abused by some bastard pervert, and whose parents were divorced, her mother dieing somewhere in the country, and her father putting his life at risk for a country that doesn't appreciate his sacrifice. She was the quiet little girl who let the world believe she was weak. She let the world take advantage of her. And, eventually this little girl got angry. Eventually this little mouse became a lion who bit back at the Ring Master hitting it's cage. Eventually this little girl grew up… all too soon.
It all started when she was six years old and she was sitting in the hospital with her mother. The little girl didn't know or understand why her mother was crying, other than she was in pain. She didn't know why her mother was in pain, other than she was sick. She didn't know why her mother was sick, other than because, according to her mother, that's what the angels wanted. And she didn't know why the angels wanted her mother to suffer so, other than because that's what God wanted. Again, according to her mother. All she knew was that her mother was screaming for her to take away her pain. Even though that's what the angels wanted, and all the little girl could do was sit there confused, and, honestly, a little disoriented, and completely terrified.
This continued for six years. And then, exactly eleven days after the little girls twelfth birthday, her mother died. She was sitting there, on the bed next to her with her brother in the Hospice Care Center in Milton, Florida, drawing a butterfly, the symbol of life, to brighten up the room, when she looked up, into her mother's yellowed eyes, and watched life leave her with her last breath. Light and free. A butterfly on the wind. And then…
The little girl began hating angels.
And, as you are probably guessing, her tragedy didn't stop there. A month before the little girls mother had been dead a year, her Hero was diagnosed with a liver cancer. An irony, quite humorously. The Hero was a fighter, hand to hand, knives, daggers, guns. Unstoppable. Immortal. Defeated by no one, and nothing. That he could hit, stab, shoot. But this, this was a curse from the gods for all his righteous sinning that his country had condemned him to. Cancer. The little girl wanted to tear it to shreds. She wanted to take all her Hero's marvelous weapons she had come to fall in love with and put the damned word through the torment it was causing the both of them. "Be brave," the Hero would tell her, "Be brave, Baby Doll, if you're brave, I'm brave. That's how it's always been." The little girl didn't understand. She still doesn't understand. But, she feels responsible for what happens next, because maybe if she had been a little braver, he would have been strong enough to live. But he died. Ten days before her fourteenth birthday. And nine days later, her favorite uncle died of lung cancer. Irony. God you gotta love it, huh? And then…
The little girl began hating God.
Yes, you're right, her story doesn't end there. It continues on with the acceptance of guardianship by her "Uncle". We'll make this part short, for it's relatively simple. Uncle convinced her that she had killed her Hero by being such a disgrace and a disappointment that he just couldn't stand her anymore. He told her that if she had been a good little girl, Daddy would still be alive. If she had been perfect, Daddy would have been happy. If she had been someone else, Daddy would have loved her. And then…
The little girl lost faith in humanity.
Uncle made fun of the little girl because she was fat. Uncle yelled at the girl because she 'killed' his best friend, her Hero. Uncle told her that Big Brother didn't love her anymore. Uncle said that Big Brother was a disappointment and would never amount to anything. And then…
The little girl bit back.
The little girl fought.
The little girl yelled.
The little girl screamed.
The little girl became savage.
The little girl fell.
The little girl was engulfed in the suffocating black of hopelessness, guilt, regret, hate, loneliness.
And then…
Big Brother came to her rescue. Big Brother became New Hero. New Hero yelled at her to become better. New Hero picked her up and swam her out of the Murky Black and into the Breeze of Light. New Hero saved her life.
The little girl still bites back, she always will. The little girl still fights, that's who she is. The little girl still yells, it lets out her frustration. The little girl still screams… but with laughter at the jokes New Hero and her share. The little girl is still savage, but in the Free Spirit kind of way, and that's what she became. The little girl still falls, but not as deep, and sometimes she finds her own way back up.


The little girl is me.

__________________
Masumi Jeanett
Reply With Quote
  #2  
Old 01-31-2011, 10:48 AM
inzombniac's Avatar
inzombniac (Offline)
Copyist
Official Member
 
Join Date: Jan 2011
Location: Still moving
Posts: 51
Thanks: 6
Thanks 6
Default

"The sweet is never as sweet without the bitter." As much as it sucks to admit at times, we couldn't truly be happy if we didn't know what it was like to be sad. That little girl lives in all of us, her story may differ a little or greatly but there is one thing that is constant: she is strength.

Thank you for sharing.
__________________

To view links or images in signatures your post count must be 10 or greater. You currently have 0 posts.

mmmm... sleep
Reply With Quote
  #3  
Old 02-08-2011, 09:36 AM
Cheryl Lynn's Avatar
Cheryl Lynn (Offline)
Copyist
Official Member
 
Join Date: Dec 2010
Location: Warren, MI
Posts: 57
Thanks: 9
Thanks 24
Default

This was magnificent. We just don't know what children face. The one thing I've learned is that children don't come here broken--we brake them.

Thanks for the insight into how that which is broken can be fixed.
__________________
Cheryl Lynn
The Urban Musings of an Old Newbie

To view links or images in signatures your post count must be 10 or greater. You currently have 0 posts.
Reply With Quote
  #4  
Old 02-09-2011, 02:59 AM
fulltimewriter's Avatar
fulltimewriter (Offline)
Let me introduce myself
Official Member
 
Join Date: Jan 2010
Location: India
Posts: 10
Thanks: 0
Thanks 0
Send a message via AIM to fulltimewriter Send a message via Yahoo to fulltimewriter
Default

Your creation is simply outstanding. It reminds me of my childhood
__________________

To view links or images in signatures your post count must be 10 or greater. You currently have 0 posts.

[SIGPIC][/SIGPIC]
Reply With Quote
Reply

  WritersBeat.com > Write Here > Non-Fiction


Thread Tools

Posting Rules
You may not post new threads
You may not post replies
You may not post attachments
You may not edit your posts

BB code is On
Smilies are On
[IMG] code is On
HTML code is Off


Similar Threads
Thread Thread Starter Forum Replies Last Post
The Eyes of the Little Fire DarkLeon Fiction 7 04-02-2010 09:28 PM
Mini Story! LittleGirl Fiction 1 03-12-2010 01:54 PM
river flow rewritten wewere Scripts 0 05-16-2009 08:21 AM
River Flow wewere Scripts 7 11-15-2008 12:55 PM
The Boy and the Girl - Short Story James Melzer Fiction 5 06-28-2008 09:19 PM


All times are GMT -8. The time now is 05:16 AM.

vBulletin, Copyright © 2000-2006, Jelsoft Enterprises Ltd.