The world was different. The head was remaining blurry. He saw demons everywhere. In the corner, under the bed, beside the dinner table.
Carrie was standing behind the half opened door and peeked in.
"How are you?" she asked.
"Where are my glasses?"
Nels looked confused.
"You have never had any glasses, brother"
"Carrie, give me my glasses. I can only concentrate on the demons if I not have my glasses!" he was almost screaming.
Carrie looked around in the room.
"But mom took you to the doctor. He didn't found anything wrong with your eyes and..."
"Give me my damn glasses!"
Nels was furious and was ready to throw Carrie out of his room, which now looked more like a cell. He looked like an angry, wild, untamed animal.
"Carrie, do it!"
She knew what he meant. She knew what he wanted from her when he said that. She couldn't refuse him, but she walked out from the room and closed the door behind her. Nels was screaming behind.
"Carrie, do it, do it, do it!"
Part from my ongoing story "No power of healing". Read more on Inkitt: www.inkitt.com/triciajohansson
The day has come. Carrie had to tell her mother. Well, not about exactly everything, but nearly.. something. Just a part of it. The important part. She had to do this. She couldn't handle it anymore.
"Mom?", she almost whispered throughout the small, windy, house.
She wasn't used to ask for new stuff. Different stuff. Ask for anything at all.
"Yes, my darling?"
Her mother stood in the stairs and she looked very, very tired.
"No, never mind".
Her mother looked too tired to bother right now.
"Carrie? Tell me. I listen. I have always time for you."
"Okay... I would like.. to.. to have.. to have new shoes."
"Why? These are almost new?"
Her mother pointed at her purple sneakers.
"Yeah I know".
Carrie was waving her body in all directions, because of her stupid question. She was so embarrassed.
Her mother was analyzing her. Her eyes became darker.
"Well, you can't have a new pair of shoes", she replies.
"I said no".
Carries mother turned her back to her, just like her classmates did when they bullied her for her new shoes. The mother had a tear in her eye, just like she had when her boss told her she couldn't have a decent paycheck this month either.
(C) Trix, written 2019.
Part of an ongoing story. Follow it here: nopowerofhealing.wordpress.com
On my silent walk in a forest nearby, I saw something dark green and soft between two bushes. It had been trapped there, dirty, filthy, and alone, tangled in the small sharp branches.
I thought it was just thrown away so I couldn’t resist to open it. The content of the backpack, because it was a green backpack, left me speechless.
It was a pair of scissors, razor blades, a rope and, what I thought looked like sleeping pills, or maybe pain killers. I wasn’t sure. It also contained endless of plastic bags, which I assumed would be used mixed with the other harmful supplements. Maybe would them be tied over the poor creature's head while taking their own life.
I took the backpack with me, concerned that an animal or perhaps a child, would hurt themselves by mistake if I just left it to whomever to explore the gears in there.
I was going, slowly and quiet and without seeing where I was placing my feet. I just continued thinking about the whimsical, peculiar, green bag.
Suddenly, I was walking into something that was hanging in the tree right in front of me.
I screamed so loud I was damn sure I had made myself deaf forever.
(C) Trix, written 2019.
Part of an ongoing story. Read the entire thing on nopowerofhealing.wordpress.com
Writer, artist & scribbler
Tricia Johansson, 26 years old. Sweden. Welcome to my writing and art blog. I like horror/mystery poetry, short tales about mysterious matters, philosophical thoughts and fantasy artworks.
No power of healing
Mina sinnen ljuger inte
Captured the silence
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