My stomach was nervous.

I sat alone on the park bench watching a family of ducks waddle by.  The leaves were gusting in trails of orange and yellow all around me.  One got caught in my mouth when I dared a nervous yawn and by that time several other leaves had already adorned my hair.

I love days like this.

The days where humanity is quiet and nature is the only composer.  I could sit for hours watching the trees roll and sway.  Something so beautiful about the way they play.

But not today…

I felt uneasy.  As if he was hiding in the trees.  Watching me.  Enjoying how he was making me suffer.  I wore the jeans he asked me to wear.  I hadn’t worn them in years.  I would have thrown them away but he knew better.  He knew I’d be compelled to keep them.  They were the only evidence I had that he had raped me.

I thought he had forgotten about me as soon as he kicked me out of the car he didn’t even own.  After all, I’d served my purpose.  I was an easy target.  Easily manipulated.  Very naïve.

I sat looking at the note he had left me. It was covered in blood but I knew who it was from.  He was here waiting to silence me once and for all.

Sirens began to blare.  Not police but tornado sirens.  The wind had died down and the sky had turned dark tinting the atmosphere a strange yellow.  A lump began to move under a pile of leaves that had fallen.  It was him.  He had been hiding in the leaves.

It wasn’t the man I expected though.  It was a younger version of him.  A small boy around the age of 16.  His lip was bloody, two black eyes, and he had an old ball cap on.

He mouthed “help me” just as a large bird grabbed his shirt to carry him away.  The bird was an extra large bald eagle with glowing yellow eyes.  It screeched, “too late” “too late”.

When I looked down at the paper in my hand it said, “I’m sorry.  I didn’t know it was wrong”

Then the wind ripped it from my hand and it swirled away.










3 thoughts on “I DIDN’T KNOW IT WAS WRONG

  1. Hasty, your dreams, as you write them, are amazing – yes, sometimes disturbing and strange, but that is often the nature of dreams. I don’t think I could remember mine well enough to write them. In this one, the bird was right, an agent of justice or Karma. Thank you for sharing it. reblogging


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