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It was on days like this that she'd sit on the beanbag just waiting for him to come home.2
Outside, the rain streamed in sheets down the cobwebbed window panes. He'd always cleaned the windows. She looked down at the slightly stained tissue in distaste, crumpled up her nose and threw it into the bin.3
A sound made her look up; a small child was creeping nervously down the stairs in a dressing gown that looked as though it hadn't been washed in years. It was sucking its thumb and clutching a blanket tight to its chest, a mass of tangled, uncut, blonde hair was matted to the sweat on her face.4
'What's the matter?' her Mother said distractedly.5
The child removed the thumb from her mouth with a hideous sucking noise. 'Been sick,' it replied simply.6
On closer inspection, the dressing gown was patterned with a brownish-pink, lumpy motif. Her Mother sighed and left the beanbag to clean up her child. She realised that he wasn't coming home today.7
'Want beanbag. Want story,' the child wandered back into the lounge and collapsed onto the beanbag. She fiddled with the material until the beans spilled onto the floor.8
'Alice! Leave that alone now.' The child was hauled to her feet by her dressing gown. 'What on Earth did you think you were doing?'9
'Just... Beanbag.' The child struggled as she protested, 'No Mummy! Don't hit me. No.' the child was battling tears now. 'Please Mummy. Don't hit me Mummy.'10
The Mother was exhausted but she hit the child sharply across the face and watched her as she scrambled back up the stairs fighting the tears which insisted on staining her cheeks.11
The television was switched on and the Mother stared at it aimlessly for a while. She turned it off when it started telling her about the starving children in Africa.12
'You think I don't know,' she muttered.13
She vacuumed the floor where the beans had been spilt and spent an hour sewing the beanbag back together. He was coming home. He was.14
She picked up her copy of '1984'. It was about time she re-read it. She fell asleep at the bit just before Winston and Julia get captured. Thought police roamed her brain that night and she snored quietly on the sofa.15
He reached one foot cautiously out of the brand new car. He didn't want to wake the kids up. A light reached him from beyond the window in the lounge. He remembered thinking that was odd. A small tear-stained face peered at him from behind a curtain.16
'Daddy's back! Wake up, wake up, wake up! Daddy's home,' the child's pure delight seemed to stretch through her throat and shake the other girl awake.17
'Wha?'18
'Daddy's home.' The blonde girl smiled. Daddy would make it all alright.19
The other child had gone back to sleep and so the blonde girl decided that she would also. She didn't want to look bad in front of Daddy.20
He silently turned his key in the door. It had been so easy. He had been to a 'business meeting' and that was where he was going next week, and the week afterwards, and the week after, and the week after that. He could keep this up forever. They would never ever find out.21
'Daddy's home,' the blonde girl comforted herself with this thought as she silently slept.22
What did you think? Please comment!
Comments
1 - 12 of 12
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Lol, is that the same as a picnic? Thank you. Barbie. Xx
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Ms Barbie, a Barbie story. Very interesting, written with style. Actually, it's an intriguing snapshot, which asks many questions about before and after. I like - thank you.
(I hope you know that a Barbie is an outdoor lunch over here).
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Lol, thank you.
Barbie. Xx
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Lol, I'll try and let you know if I manage to write a follow-up. Thank you very much. Barbie. Xx
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Lol, I do see your point but I didn't want to spell anything out to anyone. It's just a story of a normal family, anything else you see in this is down to your own interpretation. Perhaps I should have developed the characters a little more, but I'm not terribly into writing long stories (my theory being: if the author is bored, how is the reader going to feel), perhaps I'll write a follow-up and develop them more there. If not, you'll have to interpret the Mother's actions in whichever way you wish. It's a cliched concept, sure, I agree but it was personal to me and it's my original take on the cliched concept. I think all of life's a bit of a cliche, you know, and I tend to write about my own personal cliche a lot. Number 15,679,345,700, perhaps? I've changed the "'though" - a small grammatical error I used to make a lot, thank you for pointing it out. Finally, thanks for an intelligent and thoughtful comment and thank you for complimenting the flow of the story. Barbie. Xx
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Lol, thanks. Barbie. Xx
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Beautiful. Someone stated "it looked long". I've got to say, it wasn't long enough. Wonderful job.
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Great
This was so well written... A Very moving story of a young girls life. I would love to read more.... perhaps you would let me know if there is a follow up? Great work 
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'though - egad, inadvertant punctuation.
This has a compelling flow - each event in the short story is tightly linked, so the reader effortlessly moves on between each segment.
The concept you've used is a little cliched... the outcome and the father's thoughts are irritatingly predictable. While this story is simple and elegant because of this, you may want to attempt to develop the characters a little more - more insight into the mother's character before her husband comes home would be welcome, and add complexity to the sparseness of the current characters. All we learn is that the mother hits her children, likes Orwell, and is cynical about the plight of children in Africa - sure, I can accept the last two on face value, but striking her child across the face for little provocation? Your intention may have been to sketch out that character as cruel, but the reader requires a little more information than you have given to make the story click. Or at least, that's what I think.
flamearrows -
So touching! It looked long, but it was worth the read! Very inspiring!
Much Love, Jaylynn -
Thank you. Barbie. Xx
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wow..very touching story.
wonderfully written
the flow throughout the piece is a very significant part of the story. This really expresses all of the feelings you are trying to get across. The theme is very understandable and the overall moral is one that I will remember for quite some time.
Beautifully written.
great poem [story]
keep it up
keep writing
thanks for sharing!
-->aref
(there is no me)
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