words like butterflies

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Summary

What words do not you understand when you are not one of us we do not want you we have no interest in you other than what you make for us? What you When we are our own worst enemies what can we do about it that it matters to us what people say eventually but when we are young our anger takes control and ruins us and maddens us and tosses the whole thing into some chaos and the more chaos there is the more the silence. That is what it was the silence was deafening but the man the man I had loved did not know or feel anything but the comfort of my silence the rejection of being this woman whom no one could cuddle or know or understand or have time for what did it matter when I knew I was in the right? I am the queen of this jungle and there are no other queens we are the darlings of fortune and you are scum. We get to eat the cream la cream and you are governed by greed when you hold out your hand for more. How dare you want more from life when all you do is mope and loaf around? We do the work and you misty eyed teenager must do what we want you to do that is get be polite to us all. If we do not receive politeness we do not progress at all with your applications or anything. It stands at the holt.

Genre:
Drama / Mystery
Author:
pencil
Status:
Ongoing
Chapters:
11
Rating:
n/a
Age Rating:
16+

Chapter 1

Narrowly missed life you know narrowly did not make it. I am right I’m I not having slept with a consumptive granddad that I might have caught it? That he did sleep within the same room is true but he was not contagious. What matters is that they thought that having me around would prolong life. His life not mine. The thing was an old wisdom when a child is innocent the old gain in health and life. It did not work.

I was the death of granddad it did not work the worthy wisdom down the ages was that this would happen if it did not happen then I was a filthy child and would produce filth. I am sorry to see that unkind look the glance away the look of disdain. Where is everyone well they left. The house now barren from his presence his absence felt like the tick tock of designs on my life. That he left his family not provided for and he had to make an excuse to prove for them. I was the new provider. I am the new meal ticket. Why what is the matter mummy? She still wants to wear my shoes she said it was the shoes the shoes which had done her in. What did it matter I did not want to know what had happened to us would never bring us happiness again. Mummy what had he done wrong and then she glared it was not him who had done wrong it was I.

I bowed my head as if to seek reassurance on the floor the concrete floor which I wanted to bang my head on. What had happened? He died.

What had happened he died.

Mother is so upset he died and you fool could have saved his life.

“I was not going to put my dress into his mouth mummy.”

“You could have given an old man his last wish.”

Her voice rose to such a high pitch that I felt the blow raining on my head my skull was cracking from crying the pain was so tense.

“That baby will not now have a granddad because of you.”

“Come give me your shoes I want to wear them.”

“Mummy no.”

“Give them and you wear mine.” She insisted.

I did as I was told.

We exchanged shoes that day and I became the mummy and she became the child.

Having accepted the situation we went merrily along.

“You’ll hurt your delicate feet my dear daughter.” said her mother my aunt.

I hated them both the spoiling that grand aunt was capable of and she disliked having me over there was nowhere for me to go. I was hated everywhere did not belong an outsider did not belong anywhere in that terrible house as well as the terrible world.

I was doubtful had found something to do the grand child which was crawling came towards me and stood or tried to stand and then put out her arm to offer me a leaf. I sat down and tried to take it off her then she ate the whole thing. There that is her I thought but smiled at the baby what a delight she will be when she grows and does not do such a thing.

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