In response to this week’s challenge to write a story of 100 words or less. The photo prompt is by David Stewart.
I look in the cracked mirror. Hollow expressionless eyes look back at me. As I pass my emaciated hand through my unkempt hair, I notice all the needle pricks. From 13 I was violated. Repeatedly. I have never recovered.
My father died yesterday. Last night I dreamed I went back to the house again. After 20 years the windows were empty and unfeeling. The garden was overgrown with weeds and unkempt. There was nobody to love it, to care for it. The fence was violated.
He can’t hurt me anymore. I will go back. I will weed and plant flowers.