honed

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This Friday, my  Wordpress “Writing 101” experiment comes to an end. I will miss the challenge and the fun, but perhaps not the stress 😉

The brief for day eighteen, “hone your point of view”.

This time round, part of the story has been written for us.

“The neighbourhood has seen better days, but Mrs. Pauley has lived there since before anyone can remember. She raised a family of six boys, who’ve all grown up and moved away. Since Mr. Pauley died three months ago, she’d had no income. She’s fallen behind in the rent. The landlord, accompanied by the police, have come to evict Mrs. Pauley from the house she’s lived in for forty years.”

As always the brief comes in two parts.

First, the prompt:

“Write this story in first person, told by the twelve-year-old sitting on the stoop across the street.”

Oh, and yes, then, there is the twist:

“For those of you who want an extra challenge, think about more than simply writing in first-person point of view — build this twelve-year-old as a character. Reveal at least one personality quirk, for example, either through spoken dialogue or inner monologue.”

I have tried to stretch myself with this piece. So, it’s a dark one.

It’s not real.

But, imagine. If it were.


Today is a bloody great day!

It’s so annoying, the way they don’t care. None of them. They never cared. They just don’t know what it was like. It went on and on and on.

So, yes, today, I feel bloody wonderful. And, who cares what anyone else thinks. At last. It’s finally over. For ever.

None of them ever cared. What they did. Ever!!!

Not my mum, my dad, none of them would bloody listen!!

Well maybe they will now? If they find out? Hid, I hope they don’t. They promised me that great new bike. I bet they wouldn’t if they knew. If they knew. No bike then!

What I did.

What they did. The bastards. All six of them. And him. And she. She bloody knew!

Right from the start, she bloody knew. It was him. Her eldest. he started it, and they all joined in. Bit bit by bloody bit.

Mom, “oh they’re such a lovely family, those boys, so good to their Mom”.

Yeah, right. Mommy’s little soldiers. Too bloody right.

“But mom…” I would start.

And yeah, suddenly she needed to do something. Anything. And me. And it. Well, yeah we vanished. Too hard to talk about. Like usual.

And bit by beautiful bit, they left. Moved on. Hid help anyone near to them now. All six of them. Bastards all.

And he, the youngest, he was the worst.

Ha! He had five brothers to learn from. And me. For practice. And no one bloody cared. No one!

But he left as well.

And I thought it was over.

But no.

It wasn’t.

He, remained. The father. The beast behind the beasts. I mean, they had to learn from somewhere? No? And he, he was the worst.

That day. What was I supposed to do? Hey? I mean, what would you do? I didn’t mean it. Not really. I promise. But. What would you do. I really didn’t mean it. It just happened. Just like that.

Three months ago.

All that blood.

But they never found out. None of them. Good!

And her. She. I think she knew. And looked away.

So. Great. Finally she’s going. Who cares?

Not me.

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