Setting from a Memory

My gloomy prison cell is adorned with a single beat up black Stetson that doubles as an air freshener. Once a week I sneak into the bathroom to steal an Old Spice bottle and refresh the smell. It’s my favorite scent in the world, one that I miss now in isolation. My forgotten room has a perpetual chill in the air as the heater, two rooms down, doesn’t quite reach. Sadly, I no longer notice it as I move to pick up my senior key and class ring. Both worn as a shield against the world and a reminder that soon my sentence shall be up. I turn to the plain brown door that separates me from the harsh reality of my world and cringe at what lays beyond. A disgusted stepmother caring for her toddling son. My younger brother, now a chosen mute, sitting in a chair quietly waiting for breakfast to end and an oblivious dad frying his stupendous hash browns like every Saturday morning. Except, today is different. This is the first Saturday since my step-mom said, “I like it better without you or your brother here.” If it wasn’t for my starving hunger pain, and the mouthwatering smell of bacon, eggs and, god, those delicious hash browns I wouldn’t leave my room. I would be content with staying in my room and hiding from her. I second-guessed going out to eat, to stay with my drool stained Accounting homework but then my ears picked up on the one thing that would drag me out. “Swinging” by John Anderson comes on the radio and I know dad is trying to coax me out with my song. I take a deep breath, paint a happy smile on and prepare for another day of lies and avoidance. I place my hand on the door handle and pull hard against the sticky jam. “Good morning.”

Source: Setting from a Memory

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Published by

Courtney M. Wendleton

I'm an author with an associate's in psychology. Interested in a lot of different things, and love controversy. The more controversial the better, but that's not all I'm interested in. Can be a bit confusing at times, but that's normal!

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