Wounded

November 2019 Short Story of the Month

Present Day

Even after a long day at work, my mother’s hands worked tirelessly: chopping vegetables for dinner, stitching our clothes, whatever needed doing. I loved her hands and admired them. I wanted to be strong like her. But at the time, I couldn’t be. I would have, and gladly, if I weren’t so wrapped up in my own world — a world she would never understand.

I was sitting at the table when she came in from cleaning houses. She gave me a withering look out of the corner of her eye. She thought I didn’t see those looks, but I did. 

I knew I should be better but there was a large part of me that wouldn’t care. I couldn’t make myself. The pills kept me from caring about almost everything. I liked being checked out. It was easier. The longer I stayed checked out, the longer I wouldn’t have to acknowledge what happened to me. 

*********

Two Years Ago

“Have a great day at work,” my mother said as I was walking out the door. I nodded over my shoulder but kept walking. My partner was waiting for me in a navy sedan bobbing his head to whatever was on the radio. 

“Let’s roll,” I said shutting the door. 

The first few hours of our shift were uneventful. We broke up a fight between two men arguing over the price of fish, and we were called out to a domestic disturbance. We ended up putting bracelets on the husband, the wife, and the mistress. 

The next call was the call that would change my whole life, but I didn’t know that at the time. 

*********

The Next Morning

I woke up in the hospital. The pain was excrutiating. I couldn’t even sit up. I couldn’t feel anything other than the pain. I screamed or thought I was. Then, I saw the nurse just standing there, so maybe I wasn’t screaming. 

She leaned over me. “Are you awake?” She asked. 

“Yes,” my voice sounded scratchy and hoarse. 

The doctor was brought in and talked to me a lot, but I couldn’t focus on him or really process what he said.

Then my mother came into view. She was talking to the doctor and there were tears coming down her face. 

**********

Present Day

I didn’t care and I didn’t want to talk about it. I’d lost my job and everything that day, but there was no way I was going to tell the department appointed therapist about it.

We did our usual stare off for my required weekly hour and then I left. She knew what had happened, and she knew I was taking pills. She didn’t talk about it, and I didn’t either. But I still went because if I didn’t my mom would be really disappointed in me.

At this point, it was no longer about getting better; it was about keeping the looks to a minimum.

Boom Bam Baby!

Things are coming together! I’m having a great month, and I hope all of you are too.

The biggest news is that I finished the revisions on my novel and sent it to an editor. This is a huge step. If all goes well, I’m hoping my book will be ready in mid-January! I’m so excited!

In other happy news, NANOWRIMO is going really well for me. I am writing a sequel to my first book, and it kind of feels like it’s writing itself. As of last night, I was at 37,373 words.

All in all, this month has been really productive.

Happy reading and writing every day!

November’s Prompt

IT’S NANOWRIMO!!! So, why aren’t you writing? Stop reading this and get writing.

Only kidding.

I have yet to write one word today.

If you are participating in NANOWRIMO, good luck to you! I am attempting it and editing my novel at the same time. My brain is sort of fried, and I’m beginning to question what the point of a comma is….

Anywho… if you need something to get you started, here is this month’s writing prompt:

Even after a long day at work, my mother’s hands worked tirelessly: chopping vegetables for dinner, stitching our clothes, whatever needed doing. I loved her hands and admired them. I wanted to be strong like her. But at the time, I couldn’t be. I would have, and gladly, if I weren’t so…

Happy reading and writing this month!!