The Tales Behind Our Brokenness: A Series of Mirco Fiction

I've been working on prose, micro-fiction, and writing outside of my usual blog post and poetry. To create an audience I've moved to other sites and publications to find readers. With that being said, my own personal site will always be a hub for everything I'm doing. Below is the first short piece of a series I'm writing on Medium. If you are moved by this in any way please share, comment, and like. If you want to read more I will attach a link to the series on Medium and you can read the rest of the story. Keep fighting, keep writing. 

Summer With Him

I was the third girl he raped that summer and autumn couldn’t come fast enough. I remember staring at the ceiling fan until the sweat that fell from his forehead forced my eyes shut. Goosebumps from the hardwood floor danced across my spine and the top of my head watered a red halo amongst my crown. All the blinds where drawn shut. Music played to muffle my screams but I’m sure I wouldn’t yell like the others. Finally my uncles sweat ceased to sting and I looked at the clock on the brown wall. The hands confessed no one would be home for three more hours and my hips where starting to pop and ache. Uncle held me down and whispered words I would grow to whisper to others. Finally with a grunt, he was done and he threw a towel at me to clean myself up. I wasn’t sure if he meant the blood, the sweat, or the scene that lay between my legs but I worked at all three. When autumn did come I hoped the season would never change again.

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