2.01.2012

Some Writing on a Wednesday

Since I learned how to read at age 4, I have loved books. I've probably read almost every young adult book in that section of the library and I've read a lot of the children's chapter books and such too. Huge reader. I don't get to read as much now unfortunately, because life gets busy, but I have a lot of books on my ipod touch so whenever I get the chance, I'm most definitely reading something. That love of reading carried on and I developed a love of writing. For a while I wanted to be an author or an editor for a publishing company and that's why I was an English major. Then I realized that I loved fashion a lot more and that it would be a better path for me than English.

However, I still love to write (hence the blog) and I write little snippets of fiction and non-fiction that no one sees and are in word documents. I came across this piece of flash fiction that I wrote back in junior year of high school in Honors English. So I'm going to go out on a limb and share it on here...hope you like it and even if you don't, I was in high school....enough said. ;)

Today
He’s holding a rifle in his hands, this strange man. I thought I knew him, but I don’t, not anymore. He’s mad because I didn’t take the eggs from the chicken coop like he asked me to. But I didn’t want to and now he’s gone crazy. This happens to him a lot, with his anger on fire; he can never control it. I’m running behind the barn as he comes looking for me. I’m breathing hard but at the same time I’m not breathing at all.
            “Come out, boy!” he snarls in his gruff voice. “Come out where I can see you. Don’t be a chicken.” He growls at the air around him, hoping I’m somewhere in it. This isn’t the same man I knew yesterday.Yesterday, when I came home from school and he pulled me into a huge bear hug. Yesterday, when we would play in mud puddles after the fresh rain had fallen. Yesterday, when he’d carry me on his shoulders up high and carry me around the house like a cowboy on his horse.
But yesterday’s gone because today he is a different man.Today he punches me in the face if I’m late leaving for school. Today he swears at me and says he wishes he’d never had a son like me.Today, he’s holding a rifle ready to kill me. I’m so young, but today I’m old. I can hear his footsteps coming closer and closer. I sneak around to the other side of the barn and run inside. The chickens are in here, clucking away as they see me. Don’t they know what’s going on?Chickens need to learn how to be quiet sometimes. Suddenly I hear the gigantic barn door slam, and I realize I forgot to close it. I turn around.
“Gotcha,” he says grinning. Yesterday, I was eating pancakes for breakfast; today, the last thing I see is his glaring face as I hear the shot fire and everything goes black.

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