Hopeless: Flash Fiction #AmWriting #MondaysMuse #CreativeWriting

No matter how much he stared outward, no matter how much light he allowed to pierce the darkness of the room through the sheers that blanketed the window, he still could not bring himself to step outside.

Was he afraid? Yes. Admitting that he was as full of fear as his bones were of marrow was no hard thing. It was easier than breathing for him. Sometimes even taking in a breath seemed too difficult a feat.

This game was best played in the shadows. The less of him that anyone noticed the better.

His fingers flinched with the phantom vibration of his mobile phone. He clenched his hands together and felt the familiar sting of tears. He was happy to be in the darkness even though the sun was just outside the window. The darkness hid his fears, his shame, his salty tears.

Frustrated with the foolish picture he painted, the loneliness of his empty hands, he snatched the curtains closed cutting off all traces of natural light before throwing himself down onto the sofa behind him.

“Three more days,” he heard his voice crack just as he heard the garage door swing open. He would stay hidden for three more days. Just three more days.

The pointed tips of brown heels stepped into his downcasted sight line. The familiar scent of soft perfume tickled his nostrils, and then came her voice. It sent a shiver up his spine that made him wince. She was the source of his fear.

“Jordan, I hope to goodness you haven’t been sitting in here moping like somebody shot your puppy in front of you. Your homework better be done and the trash had better have been gathered.”

He dared not look up. “It is.” he all but hissed.

“Good. Now fix your tone and stop feeling sorry for yourself.” She opened the curtains fully. “You haven’t even been grounded for a full twenty-four hours.” Mom mumbled something about Dad fixing catfish for dinner with coleslaw.

A tear slid down Jordan’s face. He wouldn’t last three more hopeless days, not in the darkness, not without his phone, or food. They were definitely punishing him.

He hated coleslaw.

THE END

*I hope you enjoyed my results for this week’s Monday’s Muse Writing Prompt September 4th, 2017. 

~Dream. Imagine. Believe. Do. CONQUER!

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