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Writers Review and Short Stories Group
September 2009 Short Story Contest Winner
Mary with 'Submerged'
Genre: Fiction
Word Count: 730
(January's Genre was *Author's Choice*, the topic was *Beginning*. The word count minimum was 300 words and the maximum was 3000 words.)
Here is a link: http://www.goodreads.com/topic/show/266645-january-2010
You can view the other participants here as well.
Here is the story:
I twist the ring on my finger several times before throwing my hands down in frustration. My heart aches and I just want to curl up and cry. I run a hand through my long dark hair, and I fall into a chair.
"Momma?" Chris cries. My little six year old boy runs up to me and jumps onto my lap.
"What's up sweetie?" I ask gently. I stroke his light blonde hair lovingly as he speaks.
"Momma," he sniffles, "Junie's being mean to me."
I sigh. "Junie, sweetie! Junie, come over here!" I wait paitently as my 12-year old comes into the living room sullenly.
"Yeah, Mom?" she snaps.
"June, honey, Chris says you're being mean to him. Is that true?" I ask kindly.
"No!" she spits. "Chris is just being a big baby!" June turns around and stomps into her room.
I put my face in my hands and let out a frustrated sigh. It is times like these I ache for you most, Bastien.
"Momma?" I look up and see little Chris' eyes looking at me in earnest. "I'm sorry, Momma." He looks ashamed, but I see a flicker of something else in his light green eyes. Fear? "I'll be good. I won't be a baby. Please don't kick me out!" he sobs.
I am stunned. "K-Kick you out?" I repeat breathlessly.
"Please Mommy! I'll be good, promise!" he begs.
"Christopher Sebastian Thomas." I say slowly, temper flaring. "What in the world are you talking about?"
His spring green eyes are watery as he speaks in a shaky voice, "Junie said you were going to kick me out of the house if I didn't stop being such a burden. She said that you would kick me out into the cold to die alone. Just like you did to Daddy."
I cannot breathe. I lower Christopher onto the floor. "Sweetie, I would never throw you out of the house. Ever. I love you, baby." I try to hug him, but he wriggles out of my grasp.
"You said that to Daddy too! You said you loved him, but you kicked him out!" he sobs.
"Chrissie, I didn't kick him out of the house. Daddy made the choice to leave." I find myself pleading with my ten-year son. "Please believe me Chrissie. Please."
Tears fall slick and fast down my cheeks as Chris leaves the room. In his fits of anger, he is exactly like his father, my husband who I haven't seen in weeks. Chris has his eyes and his hair. June is like me, with a slender body and almond-shaped eyes, but she has Bastian's colorings. I can still remember the night he left.
"Come on, Sammie." he whispered. "We can start over. We can be who we want to be, with no one dragging us down. We can live the life that we lived before all of this." He gestured to the house.
My heart had sunk when I realized what he meant. "Leave the kids? Bastian, you know that I couldn't-you know that I wouldn't! I love them!"
He had laughed harshly at that. "You loved your parents too didn't you? But then you ended up leaving them behind too."
I was crying, on my knees. "Bastian, don't make me choose. Please don't make me choose. Not again."
He knelt, pushing my chin up with his fingertips. "Come on Samantha. You chose me once, and you can choose me again. Sammie, I love you more than you'll ever know. We were kids when you left home, but now our kids are grown. They'll be fine."
"Chris is eight, and June's 12, you asshole!" I yelled. "Forget it. I'm not leaving. Do what you want, but I'm staying."
Sebastian's face hardened. "Whatever you want, dear. But remember, I gave you a choice. Good luck trying to live without me. Goodbye honey dearest." He opened the door, and didn't look back.
I had listened to the car start, seen the sleek, dark shape slithering out of the drive way. Only then did I whisper, "Goodbye, love" to Sebastian, to my heartache, to my past.
But when he had left, he had left me with something I hadn't had before. I had my own choice. And now I was submerged in the choice I had made, and I was going to stick by it. Just like Bastian hadn't.
END STORY
Thank you Mary for your wonderful contribution to the monthly short story contest.
