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Musings And The Like..

*From time to time, I have the urge to write something. Usually it is poetry, but here's a short story I wrote that was inspired by a Metallica music video.

"Liven"

Mary was crying once more. And there he was again... except this time he had dirty blonde hair and a mustache that would have put Yosemite Sam to shame. I waited until he threw the money on the bed before stepping out from the darkened corner. I quickly glanced over her to make sure she was alright. Only a swollen lip this time- that's a good sign. Usually the ones that wore the glasses left the worst messes. I wet a washcloth and gently slid it along the side of Mary's reddened lip. She stared blanky ahead avoiding my eyes, my hands. Blue eyes focused on the faucet behind me and mascara began to run down her cheeks in thick black lines. I gently swept those away too.

I was the one who usually wiped the day from her face.

Climbing into her bed, I pressed my face against feverish skin. What do I say tonight? I have no words of comfort. I'm not even supposed to know what she does when I play with her feather boas or awake to her cries of anguish and pain. I heard a slap the other night and it took my all to not run out and tell him to leave. It always takes my all to not run out and tell him to leave. It scares me to leave Mary on her own, though she is never too far away. Mary does this for me, I know.

I wish she didn't.

Her shoulders heaved and I wrapped my arms around her. I'm so small against her; my short arms can only do so much. 'It's okay,' my mind whispers to hers. 'Everything will be alright.' I pulled the white sheet up a bit further. It's not cold, but I don't argue. She doesn't need to hear it from me.

"I know you know-" Mary began. I shushed her. My fingers tangled themselves in her platinum hair as I stared at darkened roots. Does he really like her better if her hair were blonde? Would it really matter if her hair were as dark as mine? I don't know. Mary is beautiful to me. I stroked her hair soothingly and allowed her to speak without interruption. "I know you know about me... I'm not one of those... those women."

"I know you're not," I say quietly. She turned and caught my hand in her own, kissing my forehead. Mary pulled me closer and I pressed myself against her chest, seeking her warmth. "I know it's hard on you, mom..." She kissed the top of my head and her arms encircled around me. I was the one who wanted to clean the filth away.

I was the one who wanted to liven that spirit.

Like The Musings

I was quite a fan of Metallica and saw a lot of their older videos. Which music video inspired this story? Was it one of the newer ones?

Musings And The Like.. UFO & Writing Art Education Sciences

It was "Turn the Page". =^.^=, I found the woman and her daughter to be quite intriguing. What did you think of the story?