Wednesday's Words on a Friday
The original Words for Wednesday was begun by Delores and eventually taken over by a moveable feast of participants when Delores had computer troubles. Sadly, Delores has now closed her blog forever due to other problems.
The aim of the words is to encourage us to write. A story, a poem, whatever comes to mind.
If you are posting an entry on your own blog, please let us know so we can come along to read it and add a few encouraging words.
This month the words/prompts are supplied by Sandi and can be found here
This week's words/prompts are:
1. I will forgive this
2. Let me help
3. Tomorrow you'll see
4. How will I know it's you?
5. You will
and/or:
1. Those chains will break
2. Tell me
3. It's a lie
4. Tomorrow
5. Again
also: a short video clip from the TV series Battlestar Galactica which I have not used.
Here is my story: total fiction, not a true story
He cracked his little
whip so close the tip streaked across her bare toes, drawing blood. She flinched
away as far as the chains allowed. “I will forgive this’” he said, pointing at
the crumbs in the corner “if you tell me the truth.” “I can’t reach that far,”
she whispered. “That’s a lie!” he bellowed. “It’s a lie,” he sneered again as
he gripped her chin and forced her to face him. “Tell me why those crumbs are
still there, your one job was to clean the floor today!” ‘Please,” she pleaded,
“I can’t reach that far, the broom is too short.” He handed her the broom. “Prove
it!” She stepped as far as the chains allowed and swiped with the broom. It did
not reach the corner where the crumbs had rolled. He could not see the sparkling
sink, the clean table, the tidy shelf, all he could see were the crumbs in the
corner. Disgusted with what he saw as filth he lashed at her again and again
with the short riding crop. A hundred or more tiny cuts appeared on her skin, most
new, some old and half healed were reopened. He ordered her into the pine green tiled corner that served as a bathroom and threw salty water over her to wash
away the blood. The sting made her scream and briefly, he smiled. “Tomorrow,”
he said, I will bring a longer broom and you will try again. You WILL learn to
keep a clean house!”
He stormed out and
slammed the door, bolting it from the outside. She sank into the bloody puddle
on the tiles and cried until no more tears came. There would be no food again
tonight. She had failed again. Eight months now she had been chained to the
beam running across the ceiling. Food was withheld every time she displeased
him. She wondered again why he had kidnapped her. He claimed she was his daughter, yet there was no love such as a father might show. She looked down at her ruined
body, scabbed and scarred, skin and bone, she could only imagine the awful
tangle of her hair, he allowed no mirror, no comb, no clothes. She closed her
eyes and hoped for sleep to come quickly.
Watching from high
above, God called Peter to join him. “This can’t go on,” he said. “The man goes
to church, he goes to confession, and still the chains and whippings continue. Send a message to Lucifer and prepare Mary for a new arrival. I will
go down tonight and speak to the girl as she sleeps.” Peter left to do his bidding
and God slipped over the golden railing of the Observation Deck. Reaching the
locked room he simply floated through the door and appeared to the girl as in a
dream. “Let me help you,” he said, “and those chains will break.” “How can you
help me?” she asked. “This is just a dream.” “Look into my eyes,” God said. “I
am God.” “How will I know it is really you if this is just a dream?” she said. “You
will know,” said God, "if you accept my help. Tomorrow you will see a bright new
life, in Heaven. Will you accept my help?” “Yes,” she whispered. God touched her
gently and withdrew her soul, carrying her up through the clouds, leaving
behind the poor broken body.
Having received the
message, Lucifer grinned his most evil grin as he took over that empty body and
waited for the man to arrive back at the room.
Comments
I remembered and wikied it, in Austria they had such a case for real: Josef Fritzl
It´s a German link, here is the first ugly passage - I fail to understand how one can be so sick really - sadly the devil did not take him:
"Josef Fritzl (* April 9, 1935 in Amstetten) is a legally convicted Austrian criminal who held his daughter captive in an underground apartment from 1984 to 2008. During this time, he abused and raped her many times and fathered a total of seven children with her.[1] He also held three of these children captive in the basement apartment from their birth until 2008."
As a young music journalist I once went to interview River in her chic apartment in central Adelaide. "Tell me," I said. "Is it true that you have been having an affair with Bob Hawke?"
"It's a lie!" she snapped, pointing out that Mr Hawke was old enough to be her father.
"You do know that the story is coming out in The Advertiser tomorrow?" I asked.
She paused and then yelled, "Not again!" before hurling herself onto the sofa and beating it with her fists.
Pop singers can be very emotional.
That ... "man" might even feel honored.