He panted over me, winded by his own absurd lecture. The stench of his alcoholic breath stung my nose. Again I didn’t answer. I hoped he’d tire out and end his speech and hobble back to the living room without touching me. Such hopes were unlikely, as was the case this time.
“Answer me, you good-for-nuthin’ wench!”
The pain bit instantly as his hand connected with my cheek. I shook my head in answer to his crazy questions, feeling a rise of warm tears.
Tag: fear alcoholism child-abuse abuse dandelions richelle annabelle richelle-goodrich
Dare to imagine. Dare to be.
Books are the seeds. Dreams are the soil.
The fruit of the harvest, a world reborn.
Tag: reading books dreams dandelions richelle annabelle richelle-goodrich
Gavin stood within the trees, observing her from the shadows. He watched the basket rise to her nose as she closed her eyes to sniff at its contents. A smile told him it smelled delicious, but she didn’t open the container to pinch off a sample. Instead, the basket lowered to swing at her side as it had previously done.
All at once the air was filled with soft singing--a sweet, merry tune comprised of ludicrous lyrics. It was impossible not to grin at the words.
“Rainbows paint the sky ‘til the sun melts their colors.
Swinging in the wind, whiskered cattails purr.
The pigs gallop by and snort at the moon,
While frogs kiss the lizards and princesses too.”
Tag: dreams singing dreamland richelle annabelle gavin richelle-goodrich secrets-of-a-noble-key-keeper
When the girl didn’t move, Gavin summoned her near with his fingers. His heart thrummed as she obeyed, stepping up close to him. Her young stature was much shorter than his tall, wiry form. Gavin regarded her prettiness - pale cheeks, pink lips, inquisitive eyes. Fascinated by her, he longed to know her name.
“Who are you?” he asked. He heard the girl utter the same question at the same time.
Cocking his head, he claimed, “I asked you first.”
“No you didn’t,” she protested, shaking her red-hooded head, “I asked you at the same time you asked me.”
Gavin grinned at her insistence. It was hard for him not to chuckle. “Well, then, I suppose we’ll have to go with ‘girls first’.” His grin widened into a white smile.
The girl gestured to herself. “I’m Little Red Riding Hood.”
He recognized the name of a fairy tale character, and groaned under his breath at not having discovered this dreamer’s real name.
“Actually,” she confessed almost immediately, “I’m not really Red Riding Hood. My name is Annabelle, but I’m pretending to be her because……well……because this is my dream and that’s what I wish to dream about.”
Oh glorious day! He’d learned her name! Annabelle! Annabelle! What a perfectly sweet sound was this utterance of…..Annabelle.
Tag: dreams dreamland richelle annabelle gavin richelle-goodrich secrets-of-a-noble-key-keeper
The fact is, the man who’d begotten me didn’t want me. In his eyes I should never have been born. And perhaps that would’ve been best. As it was, my existence had proven to be nothing more than a nuisance for everyone. I angered my father, brought strife upon my mother, irritated my teachers, and annoyed the other children who were forced to interact with me in school. All by simply being.
When you aren’t loved, you aren’t real. Life is cold, like the stone against my palm.
Tag: child-abuse abuse richelle annabelle unwanted unloved richelle-goodrich
The interruption did nothing but earn her a similar slap, as I’m sure she knew it would. Sometimes I wondered if my mother spoke up at the wrong time on purpose. As often as we endured my father’s abuse, she had to be aware that it wouldn’t save me from a beating but simply earn her one as well. Or was it that sharing my fate made her feel less guilt-ridden about those things that happened to me?
Richelle E. GoodrichTag: fear guilt child-abuse abuse dandelions richelle annabelle richelle-goodrich
Gregory?” I called. I couldn’t help myself. It was irrational, but I was scared to see him run from me. He turned my direction, his feet pivoting in the dirt. Warily, I crossed into the light for a moment.
“Do you, um…” I inhaled deeply. “Do you think you’ll still want to be my friend tomorrow?” I held my breath and waited for his answer.
Although I could feel the sunshine perceptibly tingle every inch of exposed skin, the way Gregory smiled at me produced a swell of warmth unmatchable even for the sun.
“I’ll always want to be your friend, Annabelle. Do you want to be mine?”
My head nodded like mad, ecstatic, all on its own. I disappeared among the shadows again and watched my new friend until he stepped around the Hopkins’ house. Then I waited until his car drove off -- Gregory and his mother headed for home.
I was on a high like no other, but I’d not lost my grasp on reality entirely. I knew that the real test would come Monday. It was one thing to befriend an outcast in the privacy of the woods, but quite another to risk ridicule and reputation when surrounded by peers. This was true even for those with the biggest of hearts, which I now believed Gregory Hill to have.
Tag: friendship friends kindness happiness gregory dandelions richelle annabelle richelle-goodrich
You don’t know who you’re fucking with, princess. Ain’t no one do bad like I do.
Victoria ScottReal? Real depends upon your perspective, Annabelle. People never see life exactly the same way. The world is what you think it is.
Richelle E. GoodrichTag: life perspective fantasy real outlook richelle annabelle richelle-goodrich annabelle-fancher
Though it pained me, I gave in. Why was it that I repeatedly succumbed to the first whisper of a promised maybe? How did the enticer, hope, always find my heart unguarded? There was no such thing as hope. Not for me. Why was it so hard to accept that?
Richelle E. GoodrichTag: despair hope disappointment richelle annabelle maybe richelle-goodrich annabelle-fancher
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