Sunday, 26 October 2014

Where did you get that bruise?

In one sentence is the spark of a story. Ignite.

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“Where did you get that bruise?” he demanded as he grabbed her arm; almost bruising her himself.
She snatched her arm away from him. “What’s it matter to you?”
“Where?” he demanded.
“I ran into a door,” she said flippantly.
He gave her an exasperated look. “I don’t think so.” He turned her arm over. “Did he do this?”
She sighed.
No answer was as good as an answer.
“I’ll kill him,” he grunted out.
“No... you won’t.” For a second, she wished to touch his face. Her voice softened, “He’s my father.”
“I don’t care who he is. He cannot treat you like this.”
If he did something stupid, they would all be in trouble. She needed to explain to him. “Better me than my little sisters.”
His face fell. “Oh, Jesus... no.”
“Do you see now?” she asked quietly. “I am all that stands between him and them.”
“I want to help.”
“I know... but... I can’t see a way out of it right now.”
He hugged her and she let herself hug him back. “I’ll wait,” he promised. “I’ll wait and I’ll be there and I’ll help when you think of a plan.”
She smiled weakly at him. “Sure.”
“Plans are what you are good at,” he said.
Studying his eyes, she asked, “Will you really wait? For me?”
“You don’t mind the package deal? Me and my sisters.”
“Of course not.”
A quick nod. If she knew that, then she could last. She could take the punishment until she saw a way out for them all. And then she’d take her sisters with her and no-one would ever hurt any of them ever again.
© AM Gray 2014

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