LitWridoNaNoWriMo - The Support Thread

[Icingsugar]

What Raph said.

Thankful like idunnowhat.

 

[Wills]

31648 I'm going to bed.

Congrats to Ice, Og, Raph and any one I've missed. Great effort guys and gals.

My special thanks to all of you who have worked on getting this up and running.

I've got four days in the UK with nothing to do at the end of the month, except look after the wife, so I will get there thanks for the encouragement anyway.

See you tomorrow.

Will's

PS. Perdita, beautiful prologue, I agree with Raph.

 

[Svenskaflicka]

I think it's time for a little excerpt again, I haven't done it for a long time...


"Do you like this, baby?" he asks.

"Yes," she says.

"You like my cock?"

"Yes."

"Is it all big and hard?"

"Yes."

"Is it filling up your cunt?"

"Yes."

"Say it!"

"I like this, baby, I like your cock, it's all big and hard... it fills up my cunt!"

"God, baby! You're so nasty!"


I admit I was a little inspired by Sex And The City...

 

[Colleen Thomas]

Hey guys,

Hope you are all doing well with your stories. My computer crashed, lost everything on the hard drive and the backups failed to reload so I am in deep doo doo. Still glad to help anyone who needs it, but I am pretty limited in what I can do while I try to find all the software I lost. Also lost a lot of stories I was working on, so I am pretty depressed about the whole episode.

Anyway, glad to be back.

-Colly

 

[Guest]

Colly, I'm so sorry, poor baby. Good to hear from you, though, I was getting worried.

Be good to yourself!

cheers, Perdita

and a and and a *hug*

 

[Svenskaflicka]

Oh, that's terrible, colly!

I've lost programs and files myself, I know how it feels. I hope you can find all the programs you want, to reinstall them. Do you have Kazaa?

 

[Dingus Guy]

trickle of forehead sweat

"Do you like this, baby?" he asks.

"Yes," she says.

"You like my cock?"

"Yes."

"Is it all big and hard?"

"Yes."

"Is it filling up your cunt?"

"Yes."

"Say it!"

"I like this, baby, I like your cock, it's all big and hard... it fills up my cunt!"

"God, baby! You're so nasty!"

Ooooo...my left nipple just got hard. Keep up the nasty talk Svenska!!!

 

[Svenskaflicka]

Oh, allright! Here's..

Excerpt 2:

OK, now she's forced to bring out her secret weapon. She blocks his babbling out, and starts imagining. His feaures change, and all of a sudden, she's staring into the face of Russell Crowe; a tender, loving, horny Russell Crowe.

"Oh, yes, baby!" she cries out. "Yes! YES!"

"Are you coming?"

"Yes! Fuck me, baby! Ram it into me! Yes!"

Russell Crowe is fucking her, nibbling her neck, making her come, just like he has done so many tmes before, on lonely nights when all she had to do, the only one she had to do, was her faithful toy, Mr Rabbit.

 

[RenzaJones]

oops I just realized renza must have been the last one logged in and I posted a whole long drawn out reply under her name so I'm going to sign in and do it over.

The Mrs.

 

[destinie21]

I've got another except. Sorry to get heavy on you guys but her it is. It's merely a continuationof my last excerpt and this is my best work to date (completely unedited.) this one left me emotionally drained so I'll have to mve onto some thing a bit lighter for the rest of the evening. BTW COngrats and kudos to all who made it. (as you can see from the post above I'm bleary eyed and nano-fried.)

Logically my quest should have lead me to my father but our relationship had gone from distant to non existent. He was gone three weeks out of every month and the time he was home he ignored the family until he could escape to the arms of whatever woman awaited him. I had a feeling that Daddy would have liked me to whorship him like my sister used too. After she had found out about the affairs she practically hated Daddy so she clung to mama with a neediness that set my teeth on edge. Her weakness made me want to shake her until her teeth rattled like a maracca.

I hated witnessing her blatant weakness and need. Didn't Ranie have any shame at all? I could understand her motivation after all I had the same desires, what I couldn't comprehend was her willingness to conform and leap through fire ringed hoops thinking it would somehow morph our family into the people from the Cosby show. She was perfect in school and at home. If she got anything less than an A on anything from a pop quiz to a final exam she was a wreck and worked twice as hard. She already studied three solid hours a day but a B or Even an A- sent her into all night sessions. At home she never raised her voice above it's normal speaking level and she cleaned tirelessly to the point of being obsessive. She was strung so tight that it wasn't at all surprising to me when she snapped. After seventeen and a half years of being completely and totally controlled my sister went crazy. Not rebellious running away from home, fucking, joy riding crazy. It was breaking every dish in the house, cutting herself and sitting naked in the kitchen floor crazy. One day she was fine and the next she had lost her cotton pickin' mind. I for one was glad. It wasn't a malicious vengeful glee either. I knew she needed to cut loose and I understood that it was better now than later. I was convinced that later would have meant one of us finding her with a stomach full of pills and vodka. Ranie had enough used medical books to know how to do it right too. There would be no stomach pumps and jaded nurses if it went that far, only arrangements to be made and family to be called.

I wasn't close to my sister but I didn't want to see her dead or institutionalized. I was the one who came home and found her. She was sitting in the middle of the kitchen floor with nothing more than a pair of white panties on. Every glass ceramic or porcelain dish in the kitchen was smashed to bits all around her and the cabinet doors hung open. The tops of her thighs were bleeding and so were her arms stomach and breasts. When she looked at me it seemed as though someone had set a fire ablaze behind her brown eyes. The expression on her face reminded me of when we were little girls getting hollered at. She had always been the one to burst into tears during lectures while it was all I could do not to smile, glad not to be getting spanked.

"I'm in trouble Zo"

She hadn't called me “Zo” in at least ten years. I didn't ask what happened or anything. It was clear enough to me, there had been plenty of times in the past when I’d wanted to fly into a rage the difference between Rainie and I was that sometimes I did. The only thing that worried me was the blood all over her the rest was secondary. She wasn't wearing shoes so I went and retrieved a pair from her room and brought them back. Once her feet were suitably protected I led her to the bathtub and told her to get in. shoes and all she got in and sat down. I started the water and went and got a washcloth. By the time I got back the water was pink with her blood. I unstopped the tub and let the water run as I bathed her. For all the blood the cuts were small and shallow like a series of tiny paper cuts. She just kept on looking at me as if she didn't know who I was and the sad thing was, we didn't know each other really. I ignored her stares and pulled off her shoes chucking them to the ground. I washed her legs and feet and she sat there like a four-year-old.

When I was done gave her a towel and she went off to her room. I cleaned the tub and went to check on her. She was just sitting on the bed with the towel wrapped around her. There were a few little red dots on the peach terry cloth because some of the cuts were still bleeding a little.

She just looked at me the fire in her eyes was now barely a flicker. She didn't say a word and neither did I we just stared at each other.

"I'm going to clean the kitchen" I turned and left. It took me an hour to sweep all that glass into up and Rainie sat in a chair at the table watching me. She had come out dressed in a pair of black pants and a turtleneck moments after I left her room. We only had one broom so only one of us could sweep when she tried to help I just shook my head. I was picking up the last dustpan of glass when I cut my hand. Just a surface cut along the bottom of my palm.

After I had slapped a bandage on the cut I threw the last of the glass away and grabbed my car keys. I looked at Rainie

"C'mon"
"Where are we going?"
"To get more dishes"

In the car she turned down the radio that I kept at top volume.
"Are you going to tell on me Zora."
I shook my head. "I hadn't planned to"
"why?"
"Just because"
"You don't think I'm crazy?"
She sounded like she thought I was crazy if I didn't.
Again I shook my head "not anymore Ranie, not anymore."

There are people out there who would say keeping this a secret was wrong or that it would hurt her more than help. Those people didn't know my sister. If I told my parents what had happened we might as well start picking out headstones, yeah she might go to the psych ward over at St Anthony's for a few weeks but after that it would be curtains for her. I knew that as sure as I knew my name.

It took two hundred dollars to replace all the glasses and dishes she had broken and we split the bill. We put away the dishes and were just finishing tearing the boxes that they had come in to bits and putting them in my trunk when mama pulled in. Rainie gripped my hand in the dark and I slammed the trunk gasping a little because she had inadvertently squeezed my recent injury
Mama looked at us funny as she went into the house. She was probably just surprised to see the two of us together.

I squeezed my sister's hand back and then let go. When we walked into the house mama was in the kitchen pouring a glass of juice.

"Did you two go out?"
Rainie stood there looking as if she would cry she had always been a horrible liar. Not that she'd really had anything to lie about until now anyway.

"Yeah we went out" I said
"that's good what did you do?"
“Went crazy.”
That came from Rainie and I almost laughed.
mama rolled her eyes and finished her juice. Just as I turned to leave mama grabbed my hand. It had started bleeding again despite the band-aid. It probably happened when Ranie had grabbed my hand moment’s earlier.

"what happened to your hand?"

I shrugged "You can't expect us to go crazy and come home unscathed."

Rainie and I both laughed like we hadn't since I was creeping around in her shadow. Mama shook her head “I don't know what’s going on but you too better not be up to anything.”


After what would come to be known in my mind as the incident Rainie and I became as closer. We didn’t become best friends or anything like that but for the first time I felt like more than just blood and a few genetic features connected us.





After weeks I was still obsessed with Mama’s pre marital identity and growing frustrated at the dead end I met with research. Then one day I stumbled on the discovery purely by accident.



I was in mama’s closet helping myself to a pair of purple sued boots.
I was almost out of the closet when I saw a box in the back corner. It was almost hidden by a full-length leather coat but a corner was peeking out. Knowing I was invading her privacy didn’t keep me from doing so. I moved toward the box when I opened it that the contents were apparently uninteresting. Just a stack of papers I almost put the top back on thinking that this was her just one the original manuscripts from her already published books, until the title caught my eye. Unbroken by Regina Jones-Thomas. I had never even heard of this book and I had read all of her other things, in fact by now I knew all of her books backward and forward. I thought maybe this was a new book that she was going to be sending out to the publisher and as much as I knew I shouldn’t I began to read.

It was clear after the first page that this book was a departure from her usual African American cultural awareness genre. In fact this book appeared to be my mothers memoirs. Despite the fact that I had school I sat in the floor reading for hours.


Life went on almost as usual and I was still obsessed with discovering my mother’s premarital identity. I was at a dead end with my research. Even Aunt Eva hadn’t been able to tell me anything. Well she could have but she hadn’t been willing to. When I questioned her she had said that there were something’s that were better left in the past. That had almost been that. I came to discover the truth by accident although later I would call it an “accident of fate.”

Mama was at a conference that would keep her away until late in the evening and I was in her closet helping myself to a pair of purple suede boots. I had just gotten a new skirt and I knew the boots would go perfectly. Mama would probably have had a stroke if she knew I was wearing them but what she didn’t know wouldn’t hurt me.
I took the boots in hand and was almost out of the closet when something caught my eye.

There was a box almost completely hidden by a full length leather coat. Only the corner lay exposed to anyone observant enough to see. The knowledge that I was invading her privacy didn’t stop me from doing so. I hauled the box from its hiding place; it was deceptively heavy given its size. I sat the box on the floor just outside the closet and opened it. The boots lay in a heap momentarily abandoned. I knelt on the carpet and removed the lid from what I was sure was a box of secrets to be layed out before me. I was ready to study the hidden treasures like a learned archeologist but to my intense disappointment the box was filled with what at first glance to be blank paper. Why would anyone hide blank paper? I thumbed trough a few sheets and almost gave up, and then I glimpsed the top page of a novel transcript. I was still disappointed because this appeared to be nothing more than one of the original transcripts from my mother’s books. It was the title that caught my eye. Unbroken. The word lay in the middle of an otherwise blank page like a beacon drawing the eye. I had read all of mama’s published books and had most of them committed to memory. I had never even heard of this one. Although I knew I shouldn’t I flipped back the first page and began to read. It was apparent after the first few lines that the story contained in these pages was going to an outrageous departure from the African American cultural awareness books she usually wrote. I fact what I was reading appeared to be the opening page of my mother’s memoirs. I smiled just a little, I had known the intimate details of my mother’s childhood would be discorvered in a book I just hadn’t imagined the words would be written by her.

Regina Jones had been born in Baton Rouge Louisiana during the summer of 1955 her entrance into the world hadn’t been one of joy and rapture that sometimes hailed the birth of a child. In fact her very conception had been one of shame. In the basement of some abandoned house her parents had spent no more than ten minutes in the throes of passion that resulted in an unwanted pregnancy followed swiftly by an unwanted but necessary wedding. Looking at the dates of her arrival into the world and the date on the marriage, both of which were recorded in the family bible. One could either politely assume that she had been born three months premature or correctly guess that she had been conceived three months prior to the union.

Named for her grandmother Regina was to be the only child of this unhappy union but within two years she would be surrounded by four other children.

Her early years were not surrounded by toys or playthings. It was a fact that would never bother her, as her life was not one that had any room for playing. Doll houses and the things that filled them would have been of no use to her, because at the age of five while other little girls were playing house she was helping her mother to clean houses.

Georgia Jones was at present twenty-one years old with dark blue black skin and deep dark eyes. Her French Creole features were too beautiful for her station in life and at times she seemed to be angry and intensely ashamed of her good looks. It was in fact her beauty that had gotten her pregnant and married at the age of sixteen.

Everyday she was up before dawn pulling her masses of dark curly hair into a tight bun and putting on a uniform. She would then get Regina out of bed and dress her in whatever was clean and matching. They would be off down the road walking for two miles until they reached a plantation style house. The would walk up the impossibly long driveway and enter the house through the backdoor. Inside the kitchen Georgia would immediately begin work while her still sleepy daughter stood near the door waking up.

Regina had been coming to this house for two years now since when she was three the old woman who looked after her during the day had up and died. She had been happy that the woman was permanently out of her life because she was mean and maybe even a witch. She had kept cat bones in bags and unidentifiable things if clear glass jars. Sometimes people even came to her house and sat before her with their palms spread. They would stuff dollars into a big jar the kind that usually had pigs feet in them and spread their palms. Regina didn’t understand any of this and she was scared. The thing that scared her most of all was that the woman would sometimes kill chickens right in front of her she would just hack off their heads with a small ax then hang them upside down on a string and let the blood drip into the pot. Days later there would be chicken’s feet and beaks around when people spread their palms before the woman. Regina didn’t mind that the chickens were dead, she even loved chicken when they could fry it up and eat it but something about seeing the old woman with the ax hacking off the heads made her feel like she should run far far away.

When she had first come to the big white house with it’s columns and short cropped lawn Regina had been scared but since mama was there things were fine. She didn’t like having to sit on the floor and be silent and still but anything was better than another old scary woman. Soon she had seen mama scrubbing the floors hauling heavy buckets of hot water from room to room and scrubbing for hours and hours with a yellow brush and a rag. Regina had known her mama was cleaning and she had thought she could do it too. So by the time she was five she was on her knees next to mama scrubbing with a smaller brush, The water was too hot and the soap made her nose burn but it was okay. Mama had tied rags around her small knees so they barely ever hurt anymore. After scrubbing and dusting every room they would be back in the kitchen to cook big fancy dinners. Regina had never seen so much food even on TV people never ate like this. My stomach would gurgle at the smells of roasting chicken and baking hoppin john bread. The greens and potatoes and corn were good too. The people that lived in this house were white and they only had four people but lots and lots of rooms. They must’ve been rich because they had meat for dinner every single night.

When no one was around mama would let me eat as much as she wanted and sometimes she would eat too but it was clear that our eating had to be a secret. It was good; I liked having secrets with my mama.

When it was dark they got to go home after scrubbing all the dishes it took to make and serve those magnificent meals. Except in the winter they were there until way after dark and walking home even with mama gripping her hand was scary.


When we got home I would always feel kind of let down that my house was only two rooms and the floors were dirty old linoleum that not even mama could make shine. The door was kind of broken and their sofa was graying not white with pretty flowers. Her room was plain with a broken dresser and a thin mattress thrown on the floor, not pretty as a picture she knew the way they lived had something to do with them being black and the other folks being white but she didn’t know what really.

The people mama worked for had the last name Carter although mama only ever called the lady m’am and man sir. They had two children a boy who was seven and a girl who was five. Mama called them Mr. Stephen and Miss Joanne, I wondered why nobody called me Miss Regina but didn’t ask. Even at five years old I understood and had reverence for the power of words and at the time I had a fear of their consequences. Our lives had to be lived under a blanket of silence and a web of intricately intertwined secrets.

Mostly when I was there the kids were at school but and I was glad because when they came home I felt kind of embarrassed to be there. One day the Mr. Stephen saw me in the kitchen and he walked in. I turned and looked away because mama had told me not to look into any of the Carter’s eyes. When I asked her why she had said it was because black people didn’t do that. It seemed silly but Mama was not somebody you even said words like silly to,
Mama had run out to get something forgotten ingredient needed for their dinner but I hadn’t wanted to walk the mile to the Piggly Wiggly with her. I didn’t understand why she couldn’t just use their car they had more than one and they were real shiny and nice too.

I didn’t like Stephen his eyes were mean and sneaky, plus sometimes he would come in from school or playing now that it was summer and see that me and mama had just scrubbed the floor and he would walk all over it in his muddy sneakers from one end of the room to the other and then back and forth. There was no reason for him to be walking around like that but mama never said a word she just got back down on her hands and knees and started all over again.

I wanted to leave the kitchen but he was blocking the door, when I tried to walk behind him he stepped in front of me. “Where are you goin nigger” that word made my skin feel hot and I wanted to sock him right in his stupid mouth but if I wasn’t even allowed to look in his eyes mama probably wouldn’t like it at all if I busted his lip no matter what he had said. So I said “I am not a nigger.”

“Yes you are and so is your mama look at how dark you are. I bet that’s dirt cos’ niggers don’t wash.”

I wanted to tell him that I did too wash but since I had already said I wasn’t a nigger it didn’t matter. I just ignored him and turned my back trying not to cry. He danced around the room singing “Nigger, nigger, nigger” over and over again. I pretended he wasn’t there wishing mama was back already. He got real mad that I wouldn’t say anything and sort shoved me so hard I fell. When he shoved me my head hit the corner of the table. He looked real scared then and ran out of the room. My head was hurting something awful so I just lay there on the floor hoping the white hot pain would go away. The pain felt like it was all over not just in my head but then it was gone and I felt real sleepy. I closed my eyes real tight and almost fell asleep but then mama came in. She started screaming and carrying on and it made my head hurt again When she came near me and knelt on the ground I felt funny like I should be asking her what was the matter but my eyes kept closing wanting to sleep.

Turns out Stephen had made my head split open right near where my hair grew. Mama had been screaming because of all the blood. I had to get seven stitches and mama and daddy were worrying about how they were gonna pay for them. I didn’t see the big deal it was only needle and thread surely it couldn’t be that much. Daddy went over to visit with the Carter’s the next day and they decided since their son had busted my head they would pay but after that I wasn’t allowed to go back over there.

It was already august and school wouldn’t start for another few weeks so I had to go to Miss Cicely’s house everyday when it was time for mama to go to work. Miss Cicely lived down the street and she had just had a baby of her own so she wasn’t working and she needed what littlwe money mama could give her. She wasn’t scary or mean at all. In fact next to mama she was my favorite person to be around she had eyes that reminded me of smiling even when her mouth was talking. She was different from mama like maybe she was happy about a lot of things even though she was as poor as us. The thing I liked most about her was he pale skin. She looked almost white and I bet nobody ever called her a nigger. Her hair was long and king of reddish brown and even though she was light skinned her hair was nappy. Back then I thought being light skinned meant you automatically got good hair. Good hair was silky straight and the kind that moved like white woman on TV. But her hair wasn’t even curly like me or mama it was just out and out nappy.

The only bad thing about staying at Miss Cicely’s place was that when mama brought me over before dawn she would go right back to bed after Mama left. I guess having a baby made you real tired. She would sleep for hours then get up when ever the baby started wailing which was usually by eight thirty. After that she would be rearing to go making toast and syrup for breakfast nearly every day. We would eat our toast and syrup form plates rested on our knees in front of her TV. I couldn’t watch TV for to long without getting restless because I was so used to workin, so mostly I would look through the magazines she left laying all over the house. Sometimes she would do my hair. Before Miss Cicely have given birth to Joseph jr. she had been a hair dresser and soon as he was a little older he would go to the shop with her and she would go back to work. I liked the results of her doing my hair but not all the pulling and yanking. She would put a straightening comb right on the fire of her stove and wait a few minutes. Then she would take it off and pull it through my curly hair. The comb would be so hot I could hear it making the hair grease on my scalp sizzle. Sometimes she burned me but she said that was on account of me squirming so much. It took and hour because my hair was hair was long and tangled because of the curls. When she was done My hair would be a little bit past my shoulders and it shook just like those ladies in the commercials. I couldn’t believe it I had good hair!

On the days when she did my hair I would feel so proud of my long moving hair that I would whip my head around like crazy just to feel it in motion. By the beginning of September I was sad to say goodbye to Miss Cicely but it wasn’t that bad because I would see her everyday when I got back from school. Both Mama and Daddy would still be at work then.

On the first day of school I was so excited I thought I’d be sick which would be too bad because then I couldn’t even go. I didn’t get sick though I made it all the way through a bowl of grits and a cup of juice. Then I got dressed. Mama’s mother who I only met a few times had sewed me a brand new blue dress, and I had gotten a new pair of black shoes, daddy had showed me how to shine them with crisco to make them look extra sparkly and new. The night before, Miss Cicely had even straightend my hair and given me a roll of red satin ribbon. Mama could cut as many pieces off as she wanted which meant I would have a ribbon everyday. I thought I was so beautiful in my new dress shoes and ribbon. Plus with my hair in one single long ponytail everyone would know I had good hair. Daddy had to help me get ready for school because Mama was long gone
I told him I could do most of it myself but he got me in the clothes anyway, luckily Mama had done my hair because Daddy was no good with a brushes pony tails or bows.
He was going to walk me to school then go on to work. Before I’d started going to school Me and Mama had to be real quiet in the morning so he could sleep. Daddy was one of Janitors at the Big fancy hospital and he didn’t have to get to work until noon but if we woke him up before that he would get real mad and sometimes grab mama or yell at one of us real loud with cuss words. Daddy was mean a lot of the time. You wouldn’t have known to look at him because he was so handsome with his dark skin and funny eyes. Daddy had given me his eyes, that’s what everyone said, We had the same kind of eyes the kind that were light brown but not really. Mama said it was called hazel. I liked the sound of that. Daddy was also real tall taller than most men and strong too sometimes he would smile and his teeth were handsome too all straight and white. He didn’t smile that much though mostly he was real quiet or real angry.

On the day I started school Daddy was smiling. I felt happy and proud to holding his hand and walking down the street. School wasn’t as great as I thought it would be. The building was old and there were a lot of kids big and little all over the place. I hadn’t really thought of the other kids who would be there.

Daddy walked me to my classroom and left I was scared and I felt like crying because I didn’t know what to do with my new book bag or the sandwich and apple I had for lunch.
The teacher must’ve seen and taken pity on me, She came over smiling and showed me where the coatroom was. I put my things down and sat at a desk ready to learn.

Mostly the day went fine except that when we were going to sing a song and the teacher said to stand and hold hands for ring around the rosy the girl standing next to me wouldn’t hold my hand. Her name was Linda and when the teacher said.

“Linda, why won’t you hold Regina’s hand?”
“She’s too dark.”

The other kids had laughed but I wanted to cry. The teacher held my hand and we still played except she didn’t fall down at the end. After School I had to walk to Miss Cicely’s shop because she was back at work. Mama had been worried about that but after we’d walked there from the school lots and lots of times to practice she felt better.
The shop had its own special scent like burnt hair, grease and the smelly perms all rolled into one. Once you got used to it the smell was kind of comfortable.

There were always ladies sitting in there for hours laughing and talking. This was not a place where I had to be still or silent. In fact if I wanted to say anything I had to practically scream. I liked being there and seeing the woman come in looking regular and leave looking like stars, I helped out by sweeping the place, I was an excellent sweeper that’s what Miss Cicely said. If I wasn’t sweeping I would mostly watch Jr., he still slept an awful lot but I liked to just sit and stare at him He was so small, and I was amazed by him from the top of his fuzzy head to his tiny toes.


By thanksgiving I was tired of school I already knew how to count, and do my shapes and write my name but the teacher kept going over it again and again. I was glad to be out of school for a few days. We didn’t have even have thanksgiving dinner. Mama had to work for the Carter’s and the hospital was never closed.

The day after Thanksgiving Daddy came home roaring drunk. I had never seen him so drunk before even though he drank a lot. For once Mama was off of work, because of all the work she had done on Thanksgiving. It was three o’clock in the afternoon when he came stumbling in the house in a rage. He had gotten laid off and gone to a bar to spend his last paycheck. Mama and me had to be real quiet after he passed out on the couch.

After that day there was no more miss Cicely and Daddy was angrier than ever When I got home from school he would be drunk and mean and I would sit in my room for hours trying to be quiet so he wouldn’t holler at me. One day I was in the kitchen trying to get water and I broke a glass. He came in and took off his belt and hit me until my legs bled. It hurt so much I wet my pants he got even madder then and made me clean it up before dragging me in the bathroom. He threw me in the tub with my clothes still on and turned on the water. It was so hot it made me scream and try to get away. He kept telling me to shut my damn mouth but I couldn’t. I tried and tried but the screams kept flying out of me. He scrubbed me with a bar of soap that stung my legs and kept on throwing me back in the tub when I tried to get out. Finally he cut the water off and left me there. I was so scared I sat there until mama found me that night.

When she came in I was afraid to let her touch me because everything hurt so bad, plus if Daddy could just change into a stranger like that maybe mama could too. When she took me out of the tub I screamed and screamed because the pain was worde than my fear. My legs barely hurt anymore but that was only because the pain in my right arm was so bad.
I wouldn’t stop crying and when mama finally took me to the hospital they found out my arm was broken on two places. Mama kept on telling me that if anybody asked I had to tell them I had fallen down the stairs otherwise they might take me away from her.


The next time Daddy put me in the hospital I was eight. He beat me a lot but not always so bad that I had to go to the doctor. Mostly he hit me on my back chest and stomach so no one would ever see the bruises, no one except mama that is. When she saw them she would always look sad enough to cry, but she didn’t stop leaving me with him. She was scared of him too because he would beat her as soon as look at her. He was careful though he never once hit her in the face or hurt her so bad that she couldn’t work.
He had had a series of jobs over the past few years but none lasted more than a month.
Daddy thought it was all because he was black but I knew it was because he was mean and lazy and maybe only a little because he was black. I loved it when he was working I would rather stay home alone and read than have to be worried that he might get me.
The second time he beat me bad enough for the hospital I was reading a book in my room and he was walking down the hall.

“Damn it Regina, every time I see you you’ve got your nose in some damn book. You think you’re so goddamn smart don’t you?” I didn’t say a word the past had taught me that sometimes silence could make him less angry.

“Answer me when I talk to you girl.”
“No Daddy I don’t think I’m smart, I just like to read.” I closed the book and put it down trying not to shake with fear.

He walked over to the bed and picked up the book ripping it to shreds and tossing it on the floor. That was a library book but I wasn’t about to take a beating over it, so i sat there just looking at the at the tattered pages and hoping he would leave now.

Apparently ripping the book to bits hadn’t appeased him and so he punched me in the chest. I flew back into the wall and immediately curled into a ball. This way it always hurt less. He was punching me with his fists and I was barely making a sound. Screaming always made the beating last longer. He was screaming that I wasn’t so smart now was I.

I don’t know how long he hit me just that when I woke up I was in the hospital. Mama was there when I opened my eyes and for the first time I could remember she was crying. Everything hurt so much that I wished I was dead so I could rest and have everything all over with. When the doctor came in he said I had 3 broken ribs and a broken collarbone and a bruised tailbone. I didn’t know what a collarbone was but if it was broken it couldn’t be good. He asked Mama to leave the room and asked me how I’d gotten hurt. I told him I feel down the stairs. I could tell that maybe he didn’t believe me so I added that I was real clumsy.

After that we’d had to move because folks were getting suspicious and nosey. I didn’t even want to think of getting taken away from Mama and Daddy because if your real parents could treat you like this it would probably be ten times worse if you lived with other people.

We didn’t have a house anymore just an apartment. It was in a worse part of town and there were roaches that lived inside the walls and came out at night. The kids in the new neighboorhood were rougher but I had far worse things to be afraid of than some school yard brawl. The school was worse too and the teachers barely even cared what you did and there was no library here.

When I first went to the new school they made me take a test and because I did so well I got to be in third grade instead of second. I was real scared when I found out because I thought if Daddy heard he might beat me again for being too smart. But he didn’t even know the difference, he probably didn’t know what grade i was supposed to be in anyway.

Mama still worked for the Carter’s except now she had to use Daddy’s car to get there and back. he was mad about that but since we needed money he let her use his car.

It was even worse for me because that meant mama got home later and everyday I worried that between the time I came home and the time mama came home my father would kill me. Not like a person got killed in a scary movie, with a knife or anything but that he would beat me until I was dead.

After awhile the fear sort of went away because he hadn’t touched me since the last time. It took months and month for me to be able to take a deep breath without hurting and for the bruises to fade and life was as good as it had ever been for me. I wasn’t happy or sad just relieved.

 

[Dingus Guy]

How dare CBS

Why would they put the Victoria Secret special on in November? It just isn't fair. I can not concentrate!!!

 

[raphy]

Sometimes we just need a little inspiration to see our own potential. Don't lose sight of shopping that novel around to agents when you are done.

-Mike B.

I think Mhari, whispering_surrender and various others from the AH would chew my arms off if I didn't actually try and do something professional with it.

Raph, who can actually see how it fits into a trilogy (unfortunately, it's book III)

 

[Mhari]

I think Mhari, whispering_surrender and various others from the AH would chew my arms off if I didn't actually try and do something professional with it.

*censors her original reply* Yes. Chew your arms off. Yep.

So you'd better do something with it, right, boyo??

 

[Mhari]

Belated hugs to Colly...I somehow missed your post earlier. That *really* sucks. Here's hoping you can recover at least some of it!

 

[Wills]

Morning all.

Colly,
Sorry to hear about you loss, its a bummer when it happens. I lost a whole year of business accounts once, took my back up floppies to a professional house where they managed to get them into a readable format for the new machine.

destinie21
Moving wrtiting, the characters strong tension palpable. Well done you.

Will's

 

[Guest]

Morning!

Colly, you poor thing! I am so sorry to hear about your hard drive, that sucks. I was thinking about you last night, wondering where you'd got to. Now I know.

Take care of yourself. *hugs*

Lou

 

[Guest]

Re: Re: Thanks to those who run NaNoWriMo

At the TGIO, if I can fight the crowds of well-wishers, I'll personally tell Chris he should stop by here and take a look at all the NaNo love going on.

I'll also have to suggest that he consider the position of "Virtual Liason" for you.

-Mike B.

It would be great to know if Chris has stopped by here and read through a little of this thread. Better warn him not to read the whole lot, though, it could take him a month.

And you know how honoured I'd be if that happened.

Tate

 

[Icingsugar]

Howdy all. Short notes:

Svenska. Thanks, I needed a good lauggh in the morning. That's true love there in that excerpt.

Destinie, you realise that you only need a handful more sections of that length, and you're way past the 50k, and with a top notch story.

Colly. Ouch, that stings. Software is one thing, but losing WIPs... I bit that bullet bad once (about three years of music projects), and i'm still annoyed like hell about it. The cd-rw is my best friend these days. If it's important enough for you, may I suggest you contact data recovery pros. If it was just a software crash, it's fairly cheap (I said fairly) to recover stuff from either HD or backup volumes.

/Ice - still writing

 

[oggbashan]

Checked, Validated, got the certificate

I've uploaded the whole thing to NaNoWriMo and had the word count validated.

My word count bar turned purple, I got the neat avatar to the left and a winner's certificate to fill my name on.

Go for it - so many are getting close.

Og

 

[LeatherCandle]

Yay!

I actually had to download Adobe just so I could see my certificate. Of course I was hurrying to do all this right before I had to go to work. Maybe that's what made it that much more fun.

It was great fun though. I want to do it again, especially since I don't have much else going on right now.

Back to stories for Lit I guess

 

[Icingsugar]

Congrats to ya both. I just got mine counted too.

But have you noticed that both the neato icon and the neato diploma is for NaNo 2002?

Oh wel...

Let the fingers dance, everybody!
Og, Raph and I will be waiting for the rest of you at the finish line with cheerleader outfits and pom-poms.



Don't scream, I didn't say we'd be wearing them.

/Ice

 

[raphy]

Congrats to ya both. I just got mine counted too.

But have you noticed that both the neato icon and the neato diploma is for NaNo 2002?

/Ice

I did notice that, haha...

Raph, who actually has Adobe acrobate (the full thing, not just reader) but can't figure out how to change the date

 

[Guest]

Yay, you guys!

Congrats LeatherCandle, you done real good.

I've just done a special update of the table, in honour of you four guys that have passed the winning line. I'm sure many more of us will be joining you soon. Get ready to shake your pom-poms Cake Dude.

I noticed the year was 2002 on Og's icon. It was probably an over-sight, and they haven't yet updated the one from last year's NaNo. Perhaps Mike can fill us in, in a little while.

Have a nana each you four:

Lou

 

[oggbashan]

Yay, you guys!

Congrats LeatherCandle, you done real good.

I noticed the year was 2002 on Og's icon. It was probably an over-sight, and they haven't yet updated the one from last year's NaNo. Perhaps Mike can fill us in, in a little while.

Have a nana each you four:

Lou

I hadn't noticed the date in the euphoria of having finished. So I won last year when I didn't even know about NaNo?

Back to the Winter Holiday competition

Four completed. Days to go for the rest of you. Keep at it and remember you can edit AFTERWARDS.

Best wishes from Og (and some hugs for Tatelou)

 

[ffreak]

Congrats to the winners so far. For the rest of us, we've today plus ten more.

Write, write, write your story,
Quickly as can be,
Merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily,
Give us a good dream.

-FF (you can tell what kind of day I'm having so far)
ps. I really like all the excerpts that have been posted.