Status: I've wanted to do this forever. Anyone for a co-write??
Creating love with a box of matches
Sugar Fly
"Joyce we just need more time with-"
"No thank you, Doctor, but my daughter isn't staying in this damn place a second longer. Who do you think she is, her brother, her Daddy. No sir. She's Joyce Cambell's daughter. She's my daughter. She doesn't need any of this "therapy" that the state say's she needs. Now if you will politely step out of my daughter and I's way, we will be on our way." Momma squared her shoulders, her naturally pin straight blonde hair flowing down her back in a silken waterfall, the exact color of sunshine against that drab gray dress she wore. Her smile, taunt as it was, was still as menacing as when she pulled it knowingly, and her hand was clenched so tight around mine that I would have swore two of my fingers broke.
"Joyce, I beg you, please reconsider this. You must have seen the signs. Midnight is-"
"Midnight is my daughter, Doctor Turner," Momma growled sweetly, her honey sweet voice dripping with venom, "And you best not forget that." Her voice broke, sending low southern notes across the space that filled in the blanks of the argument. Doctor Turner stepped aside, sending a forlorn look my way. Doctor Turner had read my file. He knew Momma had enlisted me in every therapy ward from here to Kingdom Come, on orders of the state, but she never kept me in longer than was perscibed. A month. Just one measly month. And then we would move. Pack it all up and go. Just like that night when I was a baby.
"Momma, where we goin' this time?" I pull Butterball, my raggedy butter colored teddy bear, into my chest and twist my mouth up. I don't want to leave. Infact, yesterday at school, I had met Missy Mayez, the most popular girl of my grade, and she had asked me to be her best friend forever. I had accepted, and now look, I was moving. Oh well, silly me. I should have known better than to have accepted.
"Well sugar, we're gettin' outta dodge. Heading home. Gonna go see our roots! Ain't you excited!" Momma's accent was showing. That really down southern accent. Like tip of Texas accent. That accent Momma tried to hide. Yeah, that one, it was showing. Momma was anxious again.
"No Momma, I wanna stay here." I push my lower lip out and grind the inside flesh of my cheek between the knife-like points of my teeth. I'm making one last ditch effort to stay here, in SilverTown, but I know I've failed even before Momma turns to look at me.
"Sugar Fly, oh sweet Sugar Fly. We can't stay here. Comeon! Don't you wanna see the world??" Momma sang slowly, her body swaying to its own tune. I know the song, it came from teh lullaby she wrote me when I was five and would throw a fit about moving. I'm ten, and she still sings it to me. Most likely because I still throw a fit about moving.
"Momma, I have friend here." I pout, bringing out the puppy dog eyes that mirror hers.
"No Midnight." Momma sucks her lip ring into her mouth and her eyes dart to the left as she abruptly stands up and ushers me to the car. "No more whining now, kay Sugar Fly. In ya go." She pushes me into the car, her light brown eyes finding mine through the silver tinted air of SilverTown. "Were gonna be okay Moon, but until we are-"
"-The birdies are gonna be our angels. Yeah yeah mom...fine." I tug on the inside car door handle and lean my forehead onto the dash. The cracked leather digs into my flesh, but I ignore it. Butterball rests on my lap, his head flopping on the side, his stitched neck unable to support his sack of a head.
"Here we go again Butterball, I'm glad you stayed with me." I quirk a little smile, the one like my Dad in that old photo Momma thought she lost in Memphas. It has my two brothers, Momma, Daddy, and me, still in Momma's belly. I keep it locked safe away, in Bear's stomach, where part of his stuffing should be. Now I touch the lump in hes belly fluff, reassuring myself that it hasn't been like this forever, like I can remember. And then I close my eyes and fall asleep, my lullaby swimming round my head.
"No thank you, Doctor, but my daughter isn't staying in this damn place a second longer. Who do you think she is, her brother, her Daddy. No sir. She's Joyce Cambell's daughter. She's my daughter. She doesn't need any of this "therapy" that the state say's she needs. Now if you will politely step out of my daughter and I's way, we will be on our way." Momma squared her shoulders, her naturally pin straight blonde hair flowing down her back in a silken waterfall, the exact color of sunshine against that drab gray dress she wore. Her smile, taunt as it was, was still as menacing as when she pulled it knowingly, and her hand was clenched so tight around mine that I would have swore two of my fingers broke.
"Joyce, I beg you, please reconsider this. You must have seen the signs. Midnight is-"
"Midnight is my daughter, Doctor Turner," Momma growled sweetly, her honey sweet voice dripping with venom, "And you best not forget that." Her voice broke, sending low southern notes across the space that filled in the blanks of the argument. Doctor Turner stepped aside, sending a forlorn look my way. Doctor Turner had read my file. He knew Momma had enlisted me in every therapy ward from here to Kingdom Come, on orders of the state, but she never kept me in longer than was perscibed. A month. Just one measly month. And then we would move. Pack it all up and go. Just like that night when I was a baby.
"Momma, where we goin' this time?" I pull Butterball, my raggedy butter colored teddy bear, into my chest and twist my mouth up. I don't want to leave. Infact, yesterday at school, I had met Missy Mayez, the most popular girl of my grade, and she had asked me to be her best friend forever. I had accepted, and now look, I was moving. Oh well, silly me. I should have known better than to have accepted.
"Well sugar, we're gettin' outta dodge. Heading home. Gonna go see our roots! Ain't you excited!" Momma's accent was showing. That really down southern accent. Like tip of Texas accent. That accent Momma tried to hide. Yeah, that one, it was showing. Momma was anxious again.
"No Momma, I wanna stay here." I push my lower lip out and grind the inside flesh of my cheek between the knife-like points of my teeth. I'm making one last ditch effort to stay here, in SilverTown, but I know I've failed even before Momma turns to look at me.
"Sugar Fly, oh sweet Sugar Fly. We can't stay here. Comeon! Don't you wanna see the world??" Momma sang slowly, her body swaying to its own tune. I know the song, it came from teh lullaby she wrote me when I was five and would throw a fit about moving. I'm ten, and she still sings it to me. Most likely because I still throw a fit about moving.
"Momma, I have friend here." I pout, bringing out the puppy dog eyes that mirror hers.
"No Midnight." Momma sucks her lip ring into her mouth and her eyes dart to the left as she abruptly stands up and ushers me to the car. "No more whining now, kay Sugar Fly. In ya go." She pushes me into the car, her light brown eyes finding mine through the silver tinted air of SilverTown. "Were gonna be okay Moon, but until we are-"
"-The birdies are gonna be our angels. Yeah yeah mom...fine." I tug on the inside car door handle and lean my forehead onto the dash. The cracked leather digs into my flesh, but I ignore it. Butterball rests on my lap, his head flopping on the side, his stitched neck unable to support his sack of a head.
"Here we go again Butterball, I'm glad you stayed with me." I quirk a little smile, the one like my Dad in that old photo Momma thought she lost in Memphas. It has my two brothers, Momma, Daddy, and me, still in Momma's belly. I keep it locked safe away, in Bear's stomach, where part of his stuffing should be. Now I touch the lump in hes belly fluff, reassuring myself that it hasn't been like this forever, like I can remember. And then I close my eyes and fall asleep, my lullaby swimming round my head.
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