Wednesday, August 18, 2010

Three Words Wednesday Micro Fiction - grimace, phase, stumble

I have missed a few Wednesdays, but I hope you all enjoy this little story!

It Doesn’t Matter by Donna Thacker

Paula grimaced as her 16 year old daughter, Tiffany, came running down the stairs. She knew an argument was about to erupt and her head was pounding already.

“Where you going?” Paula asked as quietly and politely as she could manage.

“Out, DUH!” was Tiffany’s curt and sarcastic reply. “What do you think?” Tiffany paraded in front of her mother to show off the outfit she was wearing.

Paula took a silent inventory. Short black denim skirt, black netted stockings, black boots and a black halter top adorned her daughters near womanhood body. Tiffany’s hair was dyed a jet black, but at least it matched her heavy black eyeliner and lipstick.

“Doesn’t look much different than when you usually go out.” Paula replied quietly. “It never matters what I think, anyway.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah Mother, I know. I look trashy, I’m too young to dress like this, where’s my pretty blonde hair….does that about cover it?”

“Tiffany please, I have a terrible headache.” Paula whispered.

“As usual!” Tiffany spat with disgust. “I am leaving!”

“When will you be back? You never told me where you were going. Who you going with?” Paula’s questions were almost desperate, as she thought of her beautiful teenage daughter out on the streets yet again, dressed the way she was.

“Doesn’t matter when I’ll be back, now does it Mother?” Tiffany’s blue eyes flashed anger as she peered into her mother’s flushed face. Her face softened for just a second as she peered at her mother. No! even her mother’s flushed, painful face couldn’t phase her anymore. Shaking her head, she turned on her heel and marched loudly out the door.

The stomping of those boots leaving nearly caused Paula’s head to explode with pain. Sadly she shrugged, “Guess it doesn’t matter.” She whispered to the empty room. Slowly, Paula got up out of the chair she had been sitting in.

She reached for the bottle of beer that was on the table, took one last swig and pitched it to the floor where it clattered amongst the many others that lay there at her feet. The sound caused her head to pound worse. With her hands out for balance, Paula stumbled her way through the filthy house to find her bed.

4 comments:

pia said...

I'm not a mother but most of my friends are....and I was a teenager. You captured the mother/daughter battles well

Sorry that you lost your husband. Caro was suddenly widowed, in her 50's, oh about 4-5 years ago and blogs about widowhood. She seems to know many widows
poorwidowme.blogspot.com/

Angel said...

Very sad and all too often true.

ThomG said...

the back-and-forth here is very telling, very true.

Dreamer said...

Seems so real! My kids are just about getting to their teens and view each approaching year with apprehension. But most moms and daughters do end up bonding big time, once the turbulent teens are done, I think.