Whack! I am guilty, worthless. The cane came down across my seven-year-old ribs, pain ripping through me. I'd given Nanny a cold. I didn't mean to! Mum said I shouldn't hug her, but Nanny said she didn't care. Nanny hugs were the only ones I got. So, yes, I did deserve it, the punches and the kicks. The beating from the bamboo cane. The insults and the pain. Worthlessness again.
About the Creator
Ruth Stewart
Never one to do one thing at a time, I'm currently writing a horror novel and a book of poetry for the daughters of narcissists. Come back soon for a link to be included in all my news, on Vocal and elsewhere. I'd love to get to know you!
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Nice work
Very well written. Keep up the good work!
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Heartfelt and relatable
The story invoked strong personal emotions
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More stories from Ruth Stewart and writers in Fiction and other communities.
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I was travelling South, looking out of the window at the glorious countryside. The steady beat of the train’s engine was restful. The train sped me along towards my mother’s home. I was looking forward to a peaceful week away from my responsibilities.
By Ruth Stewart2 years ago in Fiction
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By Stephanie Van Orman7 days ago in Fiction
Comments (3)
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Ah that was visceral. So much pain in only a few short sentences. A sad example of how touch can be abusive but also healing. Nicely written.
So sad, but powerful wriitng. I felt it all. Well done.