Elizabeth

Seeing the vague shadow of a fist.
The abrasive pain thunders into her eye.
Attempting to escape, Mr. Russell knocks her
down to the ground. Kicking Elizabeth
repeatly while wearing sharp toed boots.
Doubling over in pain, feeling the boot
under her ribs, and unable to breath.

Mr. Russell throws Elizabeth around the
room like a erroneous rag doll.
Slamming her lethargic limp body on the bed.
Face down he jaggedly rapes her.......
Elizabeth feels the blood trickle
down her leg pooling onto the bed.
In the morning Mr. Russell tells her
to bring him breakfast before work.
Elizabeth plans her lucid escape after he leaves.

Several weeks later, while riding home.
Mr. Russell notices the manifestation of a figure
swinging from a tree. Clothes ripped face beaten, and swollen.
It's Elizabeth hanging from a tree. Hands tied behind her back
wearing a sign around her neck that reads..... Run Away Slave.
Obstinate he lights a cigarette, and smugly remarks.
Well, I guess she found her freedom, then continues riding his
horse inconsequentially down the road.

...Just 'wow'...

Yes, this is a very tragic write....

MALAIKA & MIREMBE

My real name is Mirembe it means peace.
The Williams call me Sarah. They raised
me since childhood. I once had a older
sister named Malaika it means angel.

As children we were sold to separate
families. Malaika was sold to a cold
white man. I still remember his icy stare
when he ripped us apart. Malaika also
said she would find me one day. I still
look out the window, down that winding
dirt road for her. Day after day, after
day..... So many years have passed.

Mr. Williams once said Malaikas name
was changed to Elizabeth..... I
still stand at the window. Waiting
waiting, waiting, for just a glance of her.
For Malaika....they call Elizabeth.




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Actually this isn't a tragic write. The worst of life can teach us to be more than what was given to us. No amount of pain can erase the past but love can and does change the future. As sad as this story is it what makes us better people today. This is art at its finest . . . thank you up2us

To feel and be,,less than human.
laughing as they rip-open each new wound.
Less than a woman, less than a man.
Here to forever be used, bitten, entombed.

Give me death, as to take away my soul.

nice write,,as to feel,,the sorrow of being, Not..

Reap what is sowed, once gained, is now sold. In the end a final conclusion maybe FEMA camps, while lady liberty is raped by the patriot act.

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This is one of those writes.... that simply writes it's self out. I just try to keep up..... I still find it tragic

WE are nearing a center of reformation,,,which shall devastate this great nation,,,but the fema camps,,shall have to wait,,,unmanned,,lol

In the Belly of the Lion

Thousands of people flow into a living river.
Cries, smells, and confusion roam as a jackal.
Various tribes, colors, and languages paint the air.

Forced into the belly of the lion.
It consumed the multitudes, and was
never satisfied.

Giving her two small children most of her food.
Tinashes' body felt the lions burden.
Malaika & Mirembe held each other in silence.
As their mother was being cast over the edge.
Plunged into the depths of the ocean.
Tinashe reaches up, and prayed for her children.

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Those were sad and and the sadder part of it all is all so true ..so easy for humans to hurt another and disgard it as its nothing is a shame i wish the world was a better place..

Have a blessed week hun

Thanks for reading....

These short stories are all connected, and work backwards on a time scale. I may add on as they go moving in various directions, and situations. The first story Elizabeth cried out to me, and felt like it had to be told.