The Unicorn Challenge.
A magical new weekly writing opportunity from her – Jenne Gray – and me.
Visit her blog every Friday to see the photo prompt, and post your amazing story in her comments section.
Or on your own blog, and stick the link down in her comments.
The rules are:
Maximum of 250 words.
Based on photo prompt.
That’s it.
To hear me read my story, just click here:
The Accident
Apparently, I was an accident.
I had three older brothers and one sister.
She was the seven-year-old much-loved and much-spoiled youngest of the family until my unexpected arrival, nine years ago.
Not only unexpected but, because my mother didn’t survive my birth, also unwanted and unloved.
Sis hated me because she was no longer the baby, and had to take care of me, a real one.
My brothers loathed me, and my father pretended I didn’t exist.
I had destroyed the happy, hard-working family, taken all the joy from their lives…
Now the farm continues to thrive but the house, with only Sis to manage it, becomes gradually more ramshackle, a vast wooden structure in need of maintenance.
The men are forever starting improvements, or repairs, but their work in the fields, or with the stock, always gets priority.
Upstairs, their bedrooms are littered with unfinished projects, cupboards without doors, half-painted walls, raised floorboards.
In deep midwinter they are too exhausted to notice nails in shutters or windows that no longer open.
I escape the flames through the tiny coal-hatch in the cellar where I sleep.
When the fire service arrives the old wood is transforming the snowy fields into a golden wonderland.
People from neighbouring farms offer their condolences, send for my aunt.
I remember her.
She smiled like sunshine in springtime, said I’m like my mother, her sister, sang to me and hugged me.
No one else has ever hugged me.
The fire?
Apparently, it was an accident.
Poor kid. We can sort of understand why the other family members hate him but it’s not like he out right killed their mother. The fire? Well that’s another story.
People too often look for someone to blame for their misfortune, don’t you find?
(Your current ‘leader’ is a prime example of that.)
I’m absolutely taken with the image of snowy fields reflecting gold. Perhaps a foreshadowing of a better life to come. Here’s hoping he turns the page with the love and guidance of a god woman. 💞
*good woman* (but maybe not so wrong, afterall!)
Delighted the image worked for you, Liz.
And, good or god, she hugs a lost and lonely child!
Accidents happen, accidentally or otherwise. I like this!
Thanks, Keith, it seems that some accidents are less accidental than others!
Ooh, good one, CE!
Ooh, thanks, Chris!
love what you did with the title, opening line, closing line. very nice! and the first thought i had after reading?– boys will be boys. xx, ren
Thanks, Ren, glad it worked for you.
You really have a quite forgiving nature, don’t you!
A chilling tale of a family gone wrong.
Love seems to have vanished with the mother.
Can we blame a child who has never known love for his actions?
The feast of details that builds up to the tragic climax is so quietly presented, making the facts even more stark – so good.
Thanks, Jenne.
Seems to me that children are too often blamed for events over which they have little or no control.
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