Sarah DuPerron
Bio
I hope to be thought-provoking. But my main goal is to hurt your feelings.
Achievements (1)
Stories (19)
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Subtle
Daddy. I used to barely sleep when you would let me go with you to the woods. All night I was afraid you would leave without me if I fell asleep. I would be up by 5 am and ready. A six-year-old girl with a sloppy ponytail brushed up with young, uncoordinated fingers. My jeans were the ratty old ones. I knew if I wore my new ones, you would make me change. And maybe then you would leave while I changed. I hated the old jeans. They were ugly, ill-fitting. Too short and too long in the crotch. And you made fun of them. You made fun of me regularly. I used to think it was funny when you did. But, still, even in your mockery, I wanted to go with you to wander through the woods to collect firewood. I was excited. I posted on the couch, waiting for you.
By Sarah DuPerron4 years ago in Confessions
Waiting
Momma, You told me once that I was wild when I was in your womb, kicking and punching all hours. Awake and ready for the world. Then you told me it scared you. You thought I would be an out-of-control child and one you needed to break. It’s difficult for me to fathom those months you spent staring at your growing belly, afraid. You were scared of me, a tiny baby not yet born, still one with you. You thought I would be too big. Too much. Too alive. And that life, full of energy, scared you enough to want to smash it. Before you met me, you labeled me something that needed correcting and took aggressive measures to shut me down and control me. You were partly successful. You should be proud of yourself, the hard work you put into breaking me almost worked.
By Sarah DuPerron4 years ago in Confessions
The guide
This is a nightmare. The woods are dark and dense. We have been walking for hours, but the path is still lost to us. My adrenaline has waned, making way for panic to crawl up and down my spine. The shadows move slowly, tiptoeing beside us in the night. I imagine a ghost floating silently on the edge of my vision, looking for the perfect time to snatch me. A goblin hides behind the next tree, waiting to bite my toes off for a midnight snack. Spiders and creepy crawlies skitter along the ground as we tread through their home. I brush at my arms constantly; fearful one will get on me. At any moment, a werewolf is bound to jump out and grab us.
By Sarah DuPerron4 years ago in Fiction
The Morning After
I tossed and turned for 3 hours. Right, I give up. I slip on the pair of leggings Dan almost ripped last night, feeling along the seams for signs of damage. Nothing. I smile slightly to myself, remembering flashes of his hunger for me. Me. No one else existed at that moment but Rebecca and Dan. I shake out the thoughts, placing my hands on my stomach as it roils with a pang of guilt. I can count on it to slide in every morning after. No, it's over. We can’t keep this up. Whom am I kidding?
By Sarah DuPerron4 years ago in Fiction
Thirst
A tiny ray of light hits my eye, pulling me from a terrible sleep. I turn my head towards the window and open my eyes. Another day. An even day. I look back to the sandstone brick next to my bed and dig my thumbnail into it. Today should be an X day. My fingertips graze over the other marks, twenty-four of them neatly marching along the same brick. Twelve of them with an ‘X’ hovering above. Every other day without fail. X days are the worst and best days all at once.
By Sarah DuPerron4 years ago in Horror
Push and Pull
I feel the wire ridge of her bra underneath my palm. The stiffness of it is pressing into me. Her heartbeat is just below my fingers, a steady soft drum. My forefinger rests on her bare skin. It’s clammy and cool from the damp air around us. All I have to do is push. Just once. A whisper of a brush against her. Barely any effort. I test the force needed, and she laughs, finishing on a sigh. I push harder this time. She takes a step back into a puddle, giggling now at the slight stumble. Her feet slip easily over the edge, almost willingly. At the last second, her fingers bend to claw into my wrist, but it’s too late. The giggle turns into a panicked shriek. And that’s it. She’s gone.
By Sarah DuPerron4 years ago in Horror
