Cloaked in darkness, a young girl stands scared and alone; a lone chorus looping in triumph – “I did it. I ran away!”
Uprooted dreams washed away to the tone of a mother’s stony voice, words soured with spite – for no one stood to nay a father guarding his daughter’s honor, marching her down the aisle without delay.
“An unwed mother can not stay!” He decreed unswayed, as Linda should have known –
This day foretold to his great dismay. Hadn’t she heard the whispers of her wild ways? Running around at night, bright future blown.
Autumn’s birth announced another bright blue-eyed beauty, her tale yet to be told.
Capricious as the season, Autumn’s laughter filled her daddy’s heart with much delight. Mike’s little girl now twelve years old, with whispers silenced whilst Linda played her part.
No one the wiser to her plight. Married to a man she didn’t love. It wasn’t right, wondering about lost chances, forced to fold her dreams with the laundry. Vodka her only respite, short-term warmth for a heart gone cold.
Laughter pummeled by tears, eroding innocence and evading hate – grown from the seed of disdain, pushing Autumn not to stay, escaping those wintry eyes. Autumn’s own, once carefree, now pained – with wearied winter forewarning despair’s desperate demise.
Time to say good-bye, searching for a ray of hope while listening to the whispers of another bright future blown…
When – trust depleted, Autumn surmised the only solution, amassing crucial sums to forge her sword, so that she may leave under a night sky, steps muted by tongues still clucking about her wild ways.
But Autumn’s future has yet to be sown.
©2016 Brenda Baker