As Was Then
Oh daddy, but he wasn’t daddy at all, though he was. There was spittle on his red chin, she was little, as she was then. It was years since he Continue Reading →
ONTYRE PASSAGES: Fantasy is reality and lives find purpose.
Oh daddy, but he wasn’t daddy at all, though he was. There was spittle on his red chin, she was little, as she was then. It was years since he Continue Reading →
It was something she did, she never questioned why, finding a small, dark place, a safe place to drain her eyes. Hiding couldn’t stop the memories, their return a recurring Continue Reading →
If she was fortunate in her hope, the breeze would sweep away her memory, but while time healed flesh, the moments that were abuse never waned. And so she waited, Continue Reading →
Drafting, editing, and world building are the sapling in the sunlight, but the seed and roots that come first are the writer’s true creation story. As a child I often Continue Reading →
What a little girl shouldn’t have to understand, knowing there was no magic, no safe place, no fantasy land. In the dark, not sleeping, holding tight the doll she swore Continue Reading →
In school, she painted a smile, sat in her seat with her hand down, and hoped one day her heart would mend. She was tired of waiting, tired of wishing Continue Reading →
Kidnapped, or I must have been. Taken to that dark place too many children know. Wondering why, yet never understanding. Scared to face the night, but the days held more Continue Reading →
Each night would fall so hard, yet never make a sound. Behind walls he could walk through, you could never risk a sound. That’s what victims do, isn’t it? Never Continue Reading →
She waited. It was a hiding place, but not hidden enough. She waited for the soft voice, but the soft voice never came, never reassured. She waited for the soft Continue Reading →
Cornered. Cowering. Darkness near… no child deserves to hurt and fear. Targeted. Abused. Our future cries, discarded, impoverished, denied. ©March 2016, Christina Anne Hawthorne