Another one from the hard drive...
“I can’t do this anymore.”
Amanda Eliza Montgomery-Reed stares at herself in the bathroom mirror. There are tears trailing down her high cheekbones at lightning speed. Her eyes are rubbed raw and there is snot falling from under her nostrils. She has grown numb to the slithery texture of the stuff finding its way between her lips. She repeats to herself again, “I can’t do this anymore.”
“Mommy! Mommy! Jason stole my dolly and threw it at the wall! Mommy! Mommy! Jason stole my dolly, Mommy!” There is banging upon the locked bathroom door from two tiny fists attempting to get help in the most recent dispute with her brother. “Mommy! C’mon, Mommy!”
Amanda Eliza Montgomery-Reed stares at herself in the bathroom mirror and says, “I can’t do this anymore.”
“Mommy!”
She wipes her eyes, blows her nose, adroitly applies concealer, and throws her hair in a ponytail. She opens the door. “Lizzy, mommy told you not to bang on the door when it’s closed.”
“But, Mommy! Jason stole my dolly and threw her at the wall. And, then he laughed and said she was dead.” Lizzy plops herself down on the floor and begins to cry. “He said she was dead, Mommy. But, she’s not dead. I know she’s not dead.”
“No, honey. Your dolly isn’t dead. At least, not yet.” She picks Lizzy up from the floor and expertly places the little girl astride her hip. She kisses Lizzy’s forehead. “I love you, Lizzy. I truly do.”
Amanda Elizabeth Montgomery-Reed and her daughter, Lizzy, go into the family room where they find Jason playing on the Wii and laughing hysterically. “She’s dead, Lizzy. Your stupid dolly is dead. Ha!” He sticks his tongue out at Lizzy and more crying ensues.
“She is not!”
“Is to!”
“Is not!”
“Is to!”
“That’s enough, you two.” Amanda Elizabeth Montgomery-Reed unplugs the Wii, sends Jason to his bedroom where he plays handheld video games, and retrieves Lizzy’s doll from the floor. She fixes the doll’s hair lovingly and straightens her dress. She kisses it. Lizzy smiles.
Amanda Elizabeth Montgomery-Reed goes back into the bathroom and closes and locks the door. She removes a container of sleeping pills from the medicine cabinet and draws a bath.
Lizzy walks by the bathroom door and sees that it is closed. She decides not to knock on the door to ask if her mommy is okay.
“Ragdoll”
October 5, 2010
posted by Strumpet at 9:34 AM
10 Comments:
Another "gem" from the hard drive! You're too good.
~ Rasta
This is a heartbreaking story, even if one assumes that she just fell asleep in the bath for a while and woke up later.
<3
Damn, Chandra. Damn.
The build is amazing and the drawn bath the perfect climax to this. Well done, Lovely Lush.
Good Captain
I must tell you, your story and the story I posted several days later, while very different stories, have similar endings. I wasn't even going to mention the similarity -- since the stories are really different -- until I just looked at your post date and realized my story was posted several days after yours.
I swear I did not look at your story until yesterday, so it was a complete fluke. Honest.
Rasta, thank you, thank you.
Devo, I wrote quite a bit about the monotony of life from different angles during this time. Hell, I write about it all the fucking time. I think you either deal with it, or you don't. I feel badly for her kids, but not all parents do the right thing. We are all only human.
Good Captain!
1. Thank you for your compliments. From a writer like you, whenever you say these things it just means so very much to me.
2. I, unfortunately, have not been around Blogland lately--I'm recovering from surgery, yikes!--and have not yet read your story. But, I can't wait to get there.
3. Ha, I totally believe you. In fact, I wrote this over a year ago. We write so differently that I am sure that it is not as similar as you think. Though, I am totally and completely curiosified.
4. Even if you weren't telling the truth--but you are--you've got to know that the best writers steal. I mean, it's all in how you look at it, really. Being influenced by the work of another person is part of the artistic process. Also, imitation is the highest form of flattery. So, when a writer steals, it's like paying that person a total compliment. Stealing and plagiarism are two completely different things. In fact, I leave you with this link:
http://keithsawyer.wordpress.com/2010/09/17/good-writers-borrow-great-writers-steal/
The quote is so good that it's attributed to three of the greatest artistic minds in history. One of them said it. The other two stole it. That's my take.
So, just because it wasn't my story that influenced the creative process this time, at another time you may be quite influenced by another turn of events and it is totally cool to be so influenced. In fact, the victim should be damned grateful.
You are absolutely right. The little notebook that I carry with me is filled with "jumping off points" or great little slices I stole or was inspired by -- either through fiction or real life (bless the red line).
Thanks for the link. And I hope you are feeling better, stronger, healthier!!
I'll also add this:
Quentin Tarantino steals more than you'd think. And, everyone pretty much loves him. He steals things that are so close to actual stories of other people that it's cuttin' it close to plagiarism.
In my film class a few semesters back, I was doing mega-research on Martin Scorsese. I found a thrown-together DVD at my local very-very-indie DVD place that had three short films of his that he made back in his early days recorded onto it. One was really cute and had his mom and dad talking about the neighborhood Scorsese grew up in and such. One was really compelling about this guy who just goes to shave his whiskers like any other guy and then before you know it, he never stops shaving. It gets bloody. Then there was another one where he had a camera in a room with him and his friends from the seventies, and a guy enters into the party and you can immediately tell that this friend is very very dear to the group but that he's been through a lot of abuse and probably mostly to himself through drugs. Turns out the whole film is basically Scorsese interviewing this man, this heroin addict. The man is an amazing storyteller. And, you don't really know if everything he is saying is true, but it seems like it's true. One of the stories he tells is about having to revive someone from a heroin overdose, having to get the needle of adrenaline, using a medical dictionary, having to draw a big red dot on the person's chest, him and the other guy arguing about who was going to have to stab the person in the chest while there's death at the window and on and on and on to every last damned detail of the shot from Pulp Fiction when Travolta and Stoltz are dealing with Uma. I was blown away in my seat. I had no idea that it was taken from some long, lost short from Scorsese's early days that you can't even find anywhere except if you're lucky enough to have an Odd Obsession video store in your hood. Here, take a look. I found the clip I speak of on YouTube from the short doc of Scorsese's:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JEY58KF62eE
Also, if you're a fan of Swingers you might recall two homages to Favraeu's fave directors, one of which was Tarantinoa and one of which is Scorsese: there's the scene where all the dudes are walkin' in slo-mo a la Reservoir Dogs and the long-shot from Goodfellas when Henry takes Karen out on their date and they enter through the back and go through the kitchen all in one long hand-held shot without a cut.
All the greats steal.
*Tarantino.
I'm tired. :)
Yoohoo.
~ Sir Wad
Hi, Sir Wad!
Finally starting to feel a bit better, and decided to post another story. Yay!
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