Sally

by Echo Clairday 7:00 AM 4 comments

(Take note that this is a fiction piece, set through the eyes of a 9-12 year old little girl.)

The moon rises over the pale park, filled with metal compounds stuck on wheels. The wheels mocking me, as if they were meant to go somewhere. Somewhere that wasn't here. Years ago, when I was young, I didn't know how much I wanted to be any where but here, confined within these walls. My only solace being the measly hours spent at school.

As the small clock, posted above my bed chimes the new day, I wait for my mother the one who use to care, opening up her arms and hugging me. She use to be so grateful, telling me that I was the only thing in her life that kept her sane. Now, I am only a nuisance in her life. Men that come and go, all hours of the day and night. Their smoke, lingering, reminding me that there is no place without them.

I look around the small clattered room, the moon light reflecting on the small piece of happiness I hold left. As I tread to the shelf, reaching for the heavy, glinting silver plate, a memory finds itself in my head. My fathers distant face flashes it self. All the old bitterness began to well up inside me again.

Remembering the last time I saw that putrid man. The child innocence of thinking he was the greatest man in the world. He patted my head, saying nothing as he pushed me aside leaving me with the woman who resents me, only as a reminder of him. Once he left, the fire filled woman went berserk, racing through the house getting rid of any remanence of the rotten man. Flinging everything and anything he held dear. After days of my mother scouring the enclosure, all that was left of the man was this tattered musty silver ashtray. 

When I had first found the last permanence of my fathers existence, my mother fumed. Demanding that I give her the last shred of the mans actuality within this home. I will never forget the moment I denied her access to my fathers dingy old ashtray. The warmth of my cheek, radiating. The dainty hand print, forcing its way on to my face. After the powerful strike, the tiny home fell silent. Tears cascading down my face.

The loud impact against the floor, brings me back to my current reality. I stare at my dirty brownish-crimson floor, staring at the broken pieces of my once beloved ashtray. As I stare I can don't feel sorrow or distress. Oddly, I feel free. As if this was some sort of awakening. As if the only thing keeping me stranded here is finally... gone.

I stare at my cracked window, watching the moon glisten freely in the night. I can hear my mothers footsteps angrily approach.

"Sally!" the woman screeches, angered with my ruckus.

Before I know it, the wind is rushing through my silky black hair, helping me blend into the night. Running as I hear my mother yelling for me. Threatening me. Making this spilt second decision so much easier. The entire park lights up, curious as to what is happening. As I run, I watch as the moon setting over the pale park, filled with metal compounds stuck on wheels. I am finally free.