Home – A Flash Fiction
Terry took a deep breath, pulling into the drive way.
Uncomfortable in the dress that reached below her knees, she shuddered at the expectations of what waited for her in that large home of her family. Terry would have avoided coming home even longer, but there was no hiding from the fact that Grandpa had passed, and the funeral was an obligation to attend.
That was a hard one to weasel oneself out off, no matter how many times she tried, and how she would rather be anywhere else in the world, hell a war-zone would look like a girl scout field trip compared to the potential landmines that she was about to walk into.
25 and not married, she was an abomination, not the girl wanted, not as loved and cherished as her cousins who according to their duty where barefoot and pregnant. Well not exactly barefoot, but clothed appropriately, in the no pants for girls uniform her parents and other authority figures had preached to them from the moment that they were old enough to listen.
She had fled that life as soon as she was old enough to hold her own job.
The bright one of the many kids that jumped around the home, too many still young even though she was way in her own adulthood, she became what she had always wanted to become, successful, independent, free.
But sometimes, just some rare times, she could not escape the consistent and disappointed calling of her family, and for a brief moment of regret opened the door to her past.
She looked into the small review mirror.
None of her friends would have recognized that demur looking young woman, glaring back at her, the fiery spark that shot at anyone whom dared to stand in her way, making space for the fears of a little girl.
She smacked the mirror out of the way.
Oh how she hated herself for that weakness!
Two days of hell ahead.
She straightened her small frame, and stepped out of her car.
Copyright Claudia H. Blanton 2014
http://dailypost.wordpress.com/2014/02/06/daily-prompt-home-2/
Pingback: Home is where love lives – Daily Prompt | alienorajt
Pingback: Home is where love lives – Daily Prompt | alienorajt
Pingback: Don’t make me do the cooking! | A mom's blog
Pingback: Daily Prompt: Home | Tommia's Tablet
Pingback: PERFECT EXCEPT FOR THE DUST BUNNIES | Serendipity
Pingback: Dark Night of the Sink / Daily Prompt | I'm a Writer, Yes I Am
Pingback: Daily Prompt: These Clothes Won’t Arrange Themselves | Thoughtless Prattler
Pingback: The Missing Daily Prompt: “BOOM” | tnkerr-Writing Prompts and Practice
Pingback: Daily Prompt: Those Dishes Won’t Do Themselves (Unfortunately) | The Wandering Poet
Pingback: Daily Prompt: Those Dishes Won’t Do Themselves (Unfortunately) | Chronicles of an Anglo Swiss
Pingback: Daily Prompt: Home | The Wandering Poet
Pingback: Cleaning: Then vs. Now | meg lago
Pingback: Housework: Doing It And Doing It And Doing It Well | Edward Hotspur
Pingback: The Camino Plan | Your Backpack Is A Portable Laundry Line: Washing Clothes on the Camino
Pingback: Daily Prompt: Those Dishes Won’t Do Themselves (Unfortunately) | Nola Roots, Texas Heart
Pingback: Daily Prompt; Home: I just hate it! | Words 'n Pics...
Pingback: Daily Prompt – Home – Housework….pah! |
Bad memories can make home feel like hell. I hope she perseveres and grows even stronger.
I hope so too, thanks for reading, Stephen
When they say you can never go home, I wonder if they meant home is hell? Well written and interesting!
thank you sweetie – for some people coming home is tough and touchy subject – it can be hell – have a great day!
Great write – I can see her bending a little bit to fit her role, but I can see her driving away after two days, heading—home.
indeed – back to her life of her own making – glad you enjoyed the story
Someone strong-willed enough to make their own life, especially in the face of family tradition and disapproval, will have the strength to get through this too.
absolutely, Steve! She is a strong one, indeed