Despair – A Dark Slice Of Life Flash Fiction

The following flash fiction is a dark monologue of despair. If you are easily triggered, please do not read on. Thank you.

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Despair - A Flash Fiction

I am afraid.
I have lost all hope since he left, leaving me with her, and nothing else. How am I going to feed her? How am I going to take care of this precious little girl, when all I have are the pennies in this jar?
I wish to God, that there were answers, that something would break, someone would swoop in here, and rescue me. All I have left is her, and I can not give her what she needs, what she deserves.
Am I a bad mother? What kind of person am I, if I can not care for her like I am supposed to? Is it my fault that he left, should I have done something, anything to make him stay? After all I am depended on him, and she is depended on me. I should have done something, anything to make him stay.
It doesn’t matter what he did to me. It does not matter how much it hurt, or how many bruises I carry as a result. None of that is important.
All that matters is that now, right now I do not know how to feed her.
What am I going to do?
Copyright Claudia H. Blanton 2014

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9 thoughts on “Despair – A Dark Slice Of Life Flash Fiction

  1. This suffering is unfortunately real; everyday, but it is temporary. The damage caused by allowing the little girls to see their mothers abused, last a lifetime. Letting go and enduring the struggle has to be the only answer. Great job putting it into words.

  2. You are indeed in a dark writing mood at the moment.
    I would imagine that many a mother has faced this despair. For both their sakes they are well rid of a man like that, and where there is life and love, there is hope, and a way forward.

    • well, it has been a strange week indeed, not just writing related. Yes, this is an all to common, and sad situation, and you are right, the separation can only be a positive thing at the end.

  3. Very heartfelt and poignant. As miserable as life can be for an adult, there is no more exquisite pain, no darkness of the soul greater than that of a mother who is terrified of watching her child (or children) suffer cold, hunger and/or pain. You’ve captured that well in few words.

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