Presenting this week’s flash fiction! This one is a little different, but I loved writing it all the same!
When her father was drunk, she painted the walls. Green for when he fell asleep quickly, snores floating from the living room. Blue for when he sobbed, calling out names she never recognized. Red for when he raged and raged and sent her hiding under her bed.
When the hangover came the next day and her mom slept off her night shift, the girl tended him. Made oatmeal and coffee. Burned herself getting toast out of their ancient toaster. Then she disappeared into her room, too nervous to make a sound.
That was when she cleaned the paints, removing their stains from the walls. Soap and cleaner stolen from the dollar store was itchy on her skin as she scrubbed and scrubbed and scrubbed. But she didn’t stop. Couldn’t stop.
He couldn’t know.
Only for her to repaint again. And again.
One night, there was shouting, crashing. The shattering of glass and the thunking of their rotting wooden table.
The girl knew she needed to hide, to disappear. But she abandoned her paints and sneaked into the hall, peering around the corner. Drawing bravery from the neighbor’s barking dog a unit over.
Another drunken rage, a feisty fed-up mother. This time, she didn’t cower, she didn’t retreat to her own hiding spaces.
No, this time she fought back. Created a scene.
The girl understood, and her own heart pounded as she found the bravery to sneak her mother’s phone and dial three numbers beneath her abandoned painting.
For more enchanting Wednesday Words by other authors, check out the official Wednesday Words page!