Today I am sharing the second piece of creative writing from a class I took last semester. I was so pleased with the reaction from my first post! Thank you to everyone who read it and commented. It means so much to me to get such positive feedback on something I’m not very good at haha.
For this post, I am sharing my second fiction piece for the class. This one is a little different from the last one, however. This is flash fiction, which is 500 words or less and it deals with some heavy topics. From this point on, trigger warning for physical abuse, death and violence. Please don’t read if these are possible triggers for you! With that being said, if you do continue reading, I hope you like it 😊 let me know your thoughts in the comments.
Let’s get started!
She started to try to count the grooves on the textured ceiling only five seconds after he began kissing her neck. It always happened without fail. In the beginning, she tries to pour herself into making out with him. She closes her eyes tightly and tries to ignore the slobber transferring from his mouth to hers. She goes through the motions of sighing in presumed pleasure and of curling her hands around his stubbly neck. But when his attention diverts to other parts of her body, her mind drifts to another place where she’s far away from him. Staring at the ceiling allowed her to imagine luscious, long hair in place of the military style buzz cut. It was much easier to imagine soft curves instead of the hard muscle under her hands when her eyes focused on the spiked grooves above their heads. The tedious exercise was blissful in its impossibility, allowing her to escape into a better world.
The other woman was perfect. Her head was haloed by a cascade of black, curly hair. Her clear, blue eyes pierced through the sadness within. Her full lips pulled back to reveal a smile blessed by the heavens. The way their thighs fit together was blissful. Her delicate fingers began reaching out, closing in on the worry lines that permeated…
An uncomfortably tight squeeze against her thighs brought her back to her bedroom. The coarse fingers of his hand drove aggressively into her skin, effective in leaving bruises that would haunt her for days. This too always happened without fail. Later, he would excuse his abuse as extreme enthusiasm and undying need for her. But they both knew that was a lie. He was never able to use the same excuse when he backhanded her across the face during a fight. Or during the times his drunken stupor would push him to scream his grievances at her. Somehow it always seemed worse when he did it in bed. She wanted this space to be sacred, one where she could truly lose herself in pleasure with the right person. He ruined that. She was exhausted from trying to live this never ending facade. She wanted to end it.
So as he forced his teeth into the flesh of her calf for the hundredth time, cutting off her circulation yet expecting a scream of ecstasy, she decided to end it. No more punches against her cheek. No more purple outlines of fingers around her arms and legs. No more pretending that she wanted to lay in the arms of this hostile man, or any man.
And just like she planned, with the knife she had hidden under her pillow, she cut a gruesome grin across the length of his neck ending her suffering forever.
So that’s it for this post! Looking back at this piece is so cathartic. There’s a lot of myself within it but also it reminds me of how hard it was to keep it short! haha. If you know me, you know I talk a lot so trying to keep a piece to under 500 words was definitely a challenge. (I also might’ve gone a little bit over! hahaha). Let me know your thoughts!