Darkness never scared her. As a child, she had spent countless hours in the narrow, dark space between her parents’ old washing machine and the adjacent wall. With her toys for company, she was an insect frozen in the dark amber until, usually, her mom dragged her back into their house.

The light scares her now. It makes the scars on her skin visible. It bounces off their jagged edges, taunting her. It spares her no place to hide. She loads her blood-stained clothes into the washing machine.

He’ll be back home soon.

Word Count: 93

This short piece of fiction was written in response to the weekly Friday Fictioneers challenge hosted by Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. This week’s prompt is courtesy of Na’ama Yehuda. To read other entries written for this prompt, please click this link.



  1. I wish she and mom would get the heck out of there, but I have a feeling mom wants to remain. Poor little girl. I hope she survives childhood.


  2. I think this is the second or third story from the prompt about murder. Interesting to see how different imaginations run.


  3. Poor thing, and all too often, a pattern that indeed repeats – a child beaten, to a women beaten; a human scarred, adding more scars. I hope she finds space to escape, and room to grow beyond the scars. What was need not continue to be what is.


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