Writing can be fun. Writing can be hard. Writing, sometimes, can seem impossible.
Right now, writing seems impossible. I’m working two jobs, get home super late, don’t write well in the morning, and seem to have lost all inspiration.
But never fear! The thing is just to write, even if it isn’t good writing. So here I submit to your notice a short flash fiction I wrote today, based off the following prompt.
“You said that this place was built to imprison something. What was it?” “Me.”
FREE
A young girl, maybe 12 or 13 years old, stood on a grassy hill looking out to the horizon. The evening sunlight shone on her bright hair as she smiled gently.
“I see it all now.” she murmured. A figure on her left nodded slowly.
“I told you that you would.”
“Thank you. They told me I could never escape. They told me I would be happy there.” She inclined her head toward a massive tower blocking her view of the mountains beyond. From the hilltop, she could barely see over it. From inside, she’d never known there was anything beyond it.
“And were you happy?”
She paused, considering. “No. Not really. I thought I was, but compared to this joy, I realize now it was all fake.”
Her companion nodded. He’d helped her escape, leading her by the hand out of the inky blackness of the dungeon to the light and freshness of freedom. At first, she had resisted, unsure. But when he’d shown his love for her—when she’d seen how much he wanted to help her—then she’d gladly come.
“How can I ever thank you?” she asked him, smiling. He stood silently for a long moment, then looked at her.
“Go, do what I have done. Open the way for others to follow. Tell them I am here, wanting to help them.”
She nodded willingly. “Of course! Although I’m not sure even that would repay you for what you risked for me.”
He only smiled.
That girl was me, three years ago. Now I stand once again on that hilltop, gazing at that terrible tower. Beside me stands a young boy, clutching his thin rags tightly to his body in the chilly breeze.
“You said that place was built to imprison something. What was it?”
I smile. “Me. Me—and you.”
“But we aren’t there,” he protests. Oh, for such a short memory. I still remember the horrors of that evil place.
“No, we aren’t there anymore, since our guide led us out. Aren’t you glad?”
He beams up at me, his eyes bright. “Yes. Now what?”
“Now we do the same for others.”
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Hope you enjoyed it! Put in the comments what you thought it might have been about! 😀
God bless,
Janet ❤️
Ooh that flash fiction was really good! I loved it!