Confessional, Cassia Beckett [warren buffett book recommendations .TXT] 📗

 "It is going to rain soon" she said, her hands were clasped tightly in her lap, staring forlorn out of the  window.

This had been the first time she had spoken since they hailed the cab.

She was often silent, to her daughters dismay. 

The child looked at her Mother and then turned her head to look out of the window.

"It doesn't look like it is going to rain at all" the child thought to herself, squinting at the cornflower blue sky.

Suddenly an odd smile came to her Mothers lips, she queeried "Are you looking forward to seeing your  darling Papa after such a long time?" she was staring amusedly afore her now.

The girl didn't know what to say, she barely saw her Father, he was always so very busy.

She lifted her nose, scowled, looked the woman square in the eyes and sneered, saying "What would it          interest you Mother? I think you could care less wether I am looking forward to it or not, you hate Father."

Her Mother giggled "Right you are my sweet Laurel, your Father sleeps around with half the female populace-

why, I know of a few girls he enjoyed that were only a mear few years older than you!" she exclaims like it

would surely be the most entertaining thing the daughter had heard yet. It wasn't.

She had heard many a time of the adulterous things her Father did whilst peoples backs were turned, she had

gotten used to her Mothers hatred and crude remarks, the girl had become bitter and uncaring because of it.

Laurel smiled ruefully at her Mother and said "Yes, well those little girls clearly have no taste in their bed-  partner, like you I guess." but her Mother wasn't listening anymore, she was staring out of the window again.

"It is going to rain soon" the woman said.

Laurel sighed and waited for the rain to come.

How long had it been? Laurel had no idea. How had this happened? Laurel did not know.

She was alone her cover her only comfort, it was dark and damp in her locked room.

She could hear them screaming, howling in pain and fear - she had forgotten what laughter sounded like.

And so she tried laughing now, but it sounded horrifying - so manic and desolate, cracked and scratchy from

disuse. She slammed her mouth shut, the fact that she had teeth forgotten before they pierced her tongue.

She could taste blood, the metallic bite more interesting than water. It dripped of her chin onto her cover.

She tried licking at the blood but her tongue hurt so she decided to stop. 

A high pitched scream pierced the humid claustrophobic space, she tugged the stained cover tighter around 

herself her subconscious conjuring up a memory of her Mothers voice "Did you hear the girl? Such a 

dreadfully high pitched soprano! My ears are still ringing." 

"Yes I did and it was Mother, but just wait until you hear the children sing" she thinks to the imaginary voice.

Publication Date: 02-14-2016

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