Welcome Guest [Log In] [Register]
ZetaBoards
Search Members Calendar FAQ Portal
  • Navigation
  • Dark Hogwarts
  • →
  • General
  • →
  • The archive
  • →
  • Monster
Welcome to Dark Hogwarts. We hope you enjoy your visit.


You're currently viewing our forum as a guest. This means you are limited to certain areas of the board and there are some features you can't use. If you join our community, you'll be able to access member-only sections, and use many member-only features such as customizing your profile, sending personal messages, and voting in polls. Registration is simple, fast, and completely free.


Join our community!


If you're already a member please log in to your account to access all of our features:

Username:   Password:
Monster; A short story, not hp related
Tweet Topic Started: Dec 19 2006, 07:02 PM (82 Views)
Lucette Hartkey Dec 19 2006, 07:02 PM Post #1
Member Avatar
secrets kept
[ *  *  *  *  *  * ]
Posts:
699
Group:
Moderator
Member
#21
Joined:
August 6, 2006
The couch. Always behind the couch. Under the table. The closet under the stairs. Three places to run. Three places to hide. Every time their voices would rise I would run to the closest sanctuary and thank God I was small enough to fit. Those voices that ran across each corner of the room seemed to reverberate off my very skin. Dad. He told me to call him Sir. Never Dad. Mom. She told me to call her Hannah. She was so pretty when she slept. She was so pretty when she was happy. Now, her body of twenty years was old. Tired from no sleep, breaking from fingertips pressed into her sides, and boiling with too hard of liquor for her fragile, porcelain outline.

After every uproar, every tear by her, and every empty bottle by him they would come looking. Her, happy to see him turn his malice towards me. Him, happy to turn his malice away from himself. I was the six year old pathetic coward.

Sir, I would say.

My eyes would wander to Hannah with frightened curiosity.

What had I done?

I called him sir. I called her Hannah.

They called me Henry at school.

They called me Henry at church.

They called me Monster at home.


After black, they would confine me to my room. A tiny room with one window, where their words said minutes earlier would form long sentences and wrap around in a circle above my head like those music boxes loving mothers would clip to the sides of their infants cribs. I hated my room. I hated the dark. They knew it, too, and took pleasure in locking me in. Locking me in where they could get me.

-----------
Wrote this last week for a school assignment, liked how it came out.

Posted Image
Goto Top
 
1 user reading this topic (1 Guest and 0 Anonymous)
« Previous Topic · The archive · Next Topic »

Theme: Darkkk. Track Topic · E-mail Topic Time: 6:34 PM Jul 10
Hosted for free by ZetaBoards · Privacy Policy