Vases Don’t Break Themselves
“Now why would you lie, Matilda? You know that isn’t right.”
Matilda turned her eyes down towards her feet, unable to meet Mama’s gaze.
“Matilda,” Mama chided, “look at me when I’m speaking to you.”
She raised her chin, slowly, but she could only bear to glance at Mama’s downturned mouth and furrowed brow for a split second. Her eyes fell back to her purple shoes. Shoes couldn't frown.
Mama heaved a heavy sigh-- so heavy in fact, that it tickled the hair on the top of Matilda’s head.
“Matilda, honey, I’m not angry with you. But next time, if you break something, you have to tell a grown-up.”
This sentence sent a jounce through the young girl, and she snapped her head up.
“Mama, I didn’t break anything!” she insisted.
“Sweetie, it’s okay if you did,” consoled her mother, “What’s important is that you didn’t get hurt. When something glass breaks the pieces can be very, very sharp. That’s why it’s important to be honest; if I didn’t find the vase, somebody could have stepped on the glass.”
“But Mama, it wasn’t me, I swear!” Matilda stomped her little purple shoe for emphasis, but Mama only sighed again. Matilda didn’t like it when Mama sighed-- it just made her feel worse.
“Well, the vase certainly didn’t jump off the table on its own, now did it?” To this, Matilda had no response. “One of the most grown-up things you can do is own up to your mistakes. It feels much much better than lying.”
“But I’m not-” she began, but paused when she heard Mama sigh yet again. “Okay, Mama,” she conceded, “I’m sorry I knocked over the vase. I just wanted to see the flowers a little better,” she mumbled, shuffling her feet.
Mama was right, lying did not feel good.
Mama smiled, and pulled her daughter into a snug embrace. “See? I’m proud of you, honey. Now go run along and play,” and with that, she was dismissed.
Matilda dragged her feet all the way back to her room, a dreadful knot in her stomach. She closed the door behind her and flopped onto her bed, bunching up the neatly made purple sheets.
A snuffling sounded from under the bed, and Matilda rolled over wearily, just in time to see a snubby wet nose poke out from the frame. A fuzzy pink and purple head followed, as the creature wriggled and rolled its way out from under the bed.
The little beast tumbled out, chubby legs and stumpy wings flailing. Once it had rolled itself to its feet, it fixed its shiny blue eyes upon Matilda and chirruped happily, curly tail wagging. Its long purple tongue slurped at the remaining flower petals stuck around its mouth.
Now, it was Matilda’s turn to sigh. The creature chirped again, flapping its wings. Matilda smiled despite herself.
“You are so lucky I covered for you!”
Dentist Chair Confessions
Shawn looked at Ginger with shock. She was totally unaware of what she was saying, and was too busy inspecting her fingers to see the hurt on his face.
"What did you just say, Gingy?"
"Hmm? I was saying that fingers look like those anemo- anemonemones."
She cackled and began to touch her face. Shawn watched her in disbelief. He shouldn't have listened to her to begin with, but she was spilling some huge secrets so it was hard to remind himself that she was high.
"How'd you find out?"
"I mean, look at them!"
"How'd you find out he isn't my dad, Ginj?"
"Oh, I took some of your hair. Your mom confessed though. We saw your real dad in the grocery store."
"My real dad?"
"Mhm, you look just like him honestly. You look nothing like Dale."
"I take after my mom."
"Yeah, until you swee your dad. His name's Norman. Norman Willis I think. But look at these fingers. Are they not the coolest thing on earth?"
"So dale's not my dad."
"No. I mean, I think he's only Jewell's dad which is funny since she hates him more than anyone else alive."
"My mom's a ho..."
Ginger nodded, then gasped. "Babe! I have feet fingers!"
"You do, babe. Come on, we have to get Joey from the center before they close."
"I love Joey!"
Ginger sprang up, and teetered otu of the room, followed by her confused and upset boyfriend.
Protection
Sitting in a dark corner
Tears streaming down my face
I clutched a picture in my hand
Holding it tightly, never letting go
The scents I just smelled
And the scene that I witnessed
The blood splatters on the wall
Black and yellow police tapes along the corridoor
A corpse, laying lifelessly on the floor
Covered in a white sheet
All to hard to forget
'Mummy. What happened to daddy?'
'Daddy left to go somewhere.'
'Is he going to come back?'
'No honey. He went somewhere far away.'
'Then can we visit him?'
'I wish we could, but daddy went to a place that no one can visit.'
I looked at the bed we used to sleep in
And the dining table we used to happily chat at
All the memories refreshed into my mind
I carassed her cheek and stared into her deep brown eyes.
'Just like her father.', I thought to myself.
