As soon as Roger grabbed my wrist, I knew the spell was broken. Silence had been my way of being. Silence, yes, on the outside. But inside? Screaming. Screaming an Ella Fitzgerald glass shattering scream. But Roger's fat fist around my bloodless wrist created an outlet for me. Finally. THere was no way in hell he was going to take my sister's banana bike. I may not have spoken for the first 9 years of my grade school existence, but I wanted to make sure She WOULD.
I flipped out of the wrist hold with a Karate move my brother had taught me, and grabbed hold of the bike he had placed his fat ass on.
Chock one up for the good Guys. Chock one up for the silent. Chock one up f
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booksaboutpeace about 13 years ago
last line would have been (with enough time) Chalk one up for me.
Galen about 13 years ago
I like it! I'm impressed you were able to add complexity to the character in so short a time. Silent exterior, screaming interior. Good.
booksaboutpeace (joined about 13 years ago)
Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0
silent fat bloodless
Prompt (write a story including these elements)