PHOTO PROMPT © Susan Rouchard
Prison
Since the day Daddy held her down when Mama went to town; onward to the day Bobby, the butcher’s son, caught her in the school stairwell, she’d been in prison. Always looking over her shoulder on day errands and never venturing out at night, menace lurked as her companion.
Both of her folks were gone now. Weeds strangled their headstones. Bobby had taken over the shop when his daddy passed.
Her skin was as grey as the sky that January morning. Bobby’s leer shifted to blank surprise as the pistol popped. He looked down at his reddening white apron.
[99 words]
Rochelle Wisoff-Fields is the steadfast host of Friday Fictioneers.
Tao Talk 
Ah, the peacemaker
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May be, Neil. I wonder if she will find peace in prison…
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Swapping one prison for another. I hope one day she finds freedom.
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Iain, I hope so also. Thanks for reading.
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Very troubling life for her.
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The first thing I thought as I examined that image was it looks like a prison cell. The story took off from there. There is so much wrong about this scenario :( Thanks for reading, as always, Sadje <3
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Yes it’s an image that brings dark thoughts.
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Bobby had it coming.
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Yes he did! Thanks for reading, James.
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Wow. And … interesting that there’s a them of melancholy in that house, eh?
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Intergenerational trauma for sure. The house manifests its inhabitants. Maybe it will crumble back to dust now that she’s going away…
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Took her a while to “free” herself. Hopefully, she won’t have to serve… though we know that’s not how it works. Stark, like the room!
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Not sure if you watched Popeye as a kid, but I used to love it when he said, “It’s all I can stands. I can’t stands no more.” It’s not only addicts that hit rock bottom. Thanks for being a faithful reader and commentor, Dale.
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Oh yes, I do remember him saying that. And I feel for your MC because enough is more than enough. You are most welcome. I do my best :)
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Well she took care of business anyway….
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Yep. She’ll never have to see that leer again — except in her nightmares.
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Good point! That will take care of it.
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Those walls are everywhere in some lives…(K)
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Well, justice was served. And will probably have to be served again, sadly.
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Good way of putting it, Sandra.
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Wish they wouldn’t do such things that make girls compelled to take revenge.
Prisons should be filled with such wrongdoers- not people who seek justice…
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Anita, well-said! Too many victimized with no voice in holding their abusers accountable unless they go rogue. Too many people behind bars that need treatment.
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Revenge was her only escape. Who could she trust?
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It seems that way, and lack of trust may be the crux of the matter. Thank you for reading and your comment, Someone.
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What a story. Simply well told
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Someone, thank you so much. A tough story to tell.
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Dear Lisa,
Bobby had it coming. Sadly she’ll still be the one who pays. Tragic and well told.
Shalom,
Rochelle
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Rochelle, yes he did, and yes she will.
Thank you,
Shalom,
Lisa
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Your descriptions “Weeds strangled their headstones” and “Her skin was as grey as the sky that January morning” work wonderfully to set the tone of this story. -Angela
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Angela, thank you very much.
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A great little tale, Lisa. Free in one sense, but probably not so in another.
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Keith, thank you. Who was it that said, so many lead lives of quiet desperation? I see that in her.
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well, one can only take so much abuse. prison can be liberating in this case.
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I hope she gets to blend into the prison population to avoid harassment and I also hope she gets quality group and individual trauma processing there. If she ever gets released maybe she’ll have a chance to enjoy freedom. Thanks for reading and your comment, Plaridel.
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I hope Daddy and Bobby are both in a special kind of hell reserved for “men” like them
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Me too.
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Unfortunately, trading a mental prison for a physical one won’t solve anything for her. Sure, Bobby’s willie won’t be bothering anyone again, but your unnamed victim-cum-vigilante’s life won’t be much better, which is, of course, the sad cycle in which she was unwillingly trapped.
“Weeds strangled their headstones.” Great line.
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Nobbin ideally she’ll get trauma treatment in prison, but you’re right, she’s not getting rid of her mental prison by going to a physical one, just compounding the trauma.
Thanks on the line.
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If only she had another way to break free and feel safe. Heavy sigh. Another victim will be victimised. Excellent writing, Lisa.
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Brenda thanks so much. Sometimes a world is so small that a person doesn’t know other ways exist.
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Sadly so…
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During my counseling years, I used to think that once a child had been molested, it was as if she had a sign on her forhead that said “VICTIM” and she was fair game for any other perv on the street. You caught the hopelessness and helplessness so well, Lisa. She’s been in prison most of her life. One with bars and gates won’t be much different.
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Someone, you’re exactly right. Until the patriarchal system is revamped, where person crimes of all kinds are taken seriously, this kind of living hell will continue. We don’t hold the perpetrators appropriately accountable, and we often blame the victims or don’t believe them. Trauma-focused treatment is non-existent or inadequate.
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She had a deep struggle that could not be held down anymore.
Ironically, my story has the same type of tragedy. Great minds and all that … lol
I, too, saw prison in the photo this week. I didn’t want to go that way because I thought it might be redundant if we all wrote about a jail cell.
I like the popeye reference you mentioned in your comment to Dale. I sort of wanted to tisk tisk tisk like he did when he giggled.
Why can’t cartoons still be like that??? Great story …
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Izzy, I appreciate your comment more than you know. LOL on Popeye with his tisk tisk tisk. I loved him and he never tolerated Olive being mistreated. <3
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So true … and a bit jealous of Bluto. 😀
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:)
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Janie’s got a gun.
Did she free herself or just make things worse?
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Nancy, I’m not sure even she knows the answer to that question, at least right now. Good song reference response :)
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Good for her
Great great descriptions here showing so so much. Weeds strangled the headstones… brilliant line
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This one got under my skin. The tone and mood are just right for this too familiar, but harrowing tale.
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Sorry it got under your skin :(
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It’s all good!
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<3
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OH you’ve used every word here to build this poor woman’s life story. The tone is set from the start and the ending is perfect.
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Margaret, thank you <3 People needed to hear her story.
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Cause and affect. Sad. Very sad.
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Yes. Thanks for reading, T.
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Steel bars close around,
A moment of stillness found,
Freedom in the mind.
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Beautiful poem, Chuckster. Indeed, it was a moment of freedom.
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a good one Lisa! I enjoyed this story!
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Thank you, Carol Anne.
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