Hello readers and friends. Last weeks story seems to have been a success in a way. Everyone EXCEPT Bill got it right this time. The story is TRUE. Yup, really did happen to me. It never made me afraid to get into the water again, just made me hate someone all the more. I won’t go into details here, too depressing.
Let’s just move on to this weeks story. Is it Truth or Fiction?
The house wasn’t the same to her anymore. It didn’t hold that fear or hopelessness to her as it once did. She wasn’t sure why she was here. Sitting in her car parked in front of the house. She felt drawn to come. The house was empty, a for sale sign in the yard. She wished only happiness to those that bought it next. The house needed some happy memories made in it. Maybe in some way, those happy memories would wipe clean the many unhappy ones that filled it while she and her ex-husband lived there.
She was free of the man, just as the house was free of him. With his loud voice and his fists through the walls next to her head. The house had been damaged as much as she had. They both had to replace the bad with the good.
They both had scars on the inside that would stay with them. Never forgotten but maybe….just maybe healed enough to not be so noticeable anymore.
She smiled sadly and brushed the tears from her face. Silly woman. Crying for a house. Thinking that pile of bricks, wood and paint could feel as she did. She started her car and glanced once more toward the house. The sun glinted off the windows and to her it was like it was smiling at her, giving her a wink of encouragement.
With that, her spirits lightened and she gave a small wave to the house as she drove away, whispering, “May we both be filled with happy memories from now on.”
So was this fiction or truth? Let me know what you think! Do you believe that buildings can hold memories? Do you think there are some people who can ‘pick-up’ on those memories?
Hello readers. So last weeks story was all about love and flirting. I should have had that story this week for Valentine’s Day. Ah well, I don’t celebrate this particular day anyway.
It seems I had everyone but Bill fooled with this one. It was FALSE. Yup, just a figment of my imagination. Thanks to all who answered with a guess and all who visited to just read the story. All is appreciated.
Let’s move on to today’s story. Like always, you tell me if you think it’s truth or fiction.
Evil in the Water
Her thin pale body seemed even paler against the blue of the lake’s water. Her body floated and bobbed with each small wave. A tiny bit of humanity set against the vastness of the great lake. In the distance, she heard the grown-ups laughing and talking. It was faint with a few louder belly laughs intruding on her peace. She knew it was her uncle Ron as he was always the jolliest at these family get-togethers and she could always count on hearing his loud laughter.
Several times during summer the family would come together at the lake with a cook-out, tended by the beer drinking grown-ups with the various siblings and cousins splashing around in the lake, not far from the keen-eyed Aunts and Uncles. There would be the inevitable squabble amongst both children and adults. The family was large and loud and she hated these times of supposed camaraderie amongst them all.
She preferred solitude. Even at the tender age of eight, she would much rather be in her bedroom at home with a good book. She was a quiet and unassuming child who tried not to draw attention to herself.
Her bluish-grey eyes opened slightly to see how far she had drifted from the others. Her white blond hair fanned out in the water like a small halo. She gave a rare smile to see that she was far enough away from the others to enjoy her peace yet close enough that her father could still keep an eye on her without yelling for her to come closer. Perfect.
Closing her eyes against the glare of the midday sun she drifted a bit further and let the quiet surround her. As she daydreamed about the latest Nancy Drew novel she wasn’t aware of the danger that drew closer to her. Until it was too late.
Seconds before she was pulled under the water she felt something or someone grab her right ankle. She was pulled under so fast she didn’t have time to scream much less take a deep breath. She tried desperately to shake the hand off her ankle but it was relentless. Terrified she opened her eyes and her heart stopped for a second as she recognized the face with the evil grin as her nemesis, her tormentor, her abuser for most of her short life. The dark water distorted his face and made it even more terrifying to the small child.
If she didn’t kick free she would drown. She knew that was his intention, she knew it in her heart as her lungs screamed for air and her soul screamed for help.
Finally, with one last pull down he let go of her. Her thin arms and legs kicked at the water to reach the top. Gasping for precious air she felt another hand grab her arm to keep her from sinking once more into the cold water. Fighting against the hand whom she thought belonged to her enemy, her ears heard her older brother yelling at her to stop fighting him. She opened her eyes to see the annoyance in her brother and relaxed. That’s why her abuser let her go because he had seen the shadow of her brother above them.
Giving her a small shake her brother told her Dad wanted her to come out of the water and eat. She was never so glad to leave the water behind as instead of the peacefulness she felt earlier it just held terror for her now.
The rest of the day she refused to go back into the water and sat with the adults until it was time to leave for home. It took many years for that little girl to love the water again but she knew if she didn’t overcome her fear, her abuser would win in the end. That would never happen. Never.
Ok, everyone. Is this one truth or fiction? Do you love water and swimming? Let me know!
Hello everyone and welcome to another week of Truth or Fiction. The comments and guesses were split last week. Was the story true or fiction?
Truth! Yes, it really did happen. I was living in Texas at the time with the ex. We lived next to a field of cows and yes, one cow was having trouble giving birth so we helped it out as it was a life or death situation for the poor cow. The only difference in the story was my ex actually did the turning of the calf. We did use dish soap and one of our dogs alerted us to the cow. According to the rancher, the dish soap didn’t harm the cow or calf. I didn’t think it would (it was my idea) as most of it seemed to come out of the cow with the birth.
About the only redeeming quality of my ex was that he was good to animals. His marriage skills needed the work.
Thank you once again to those of you who joined me last week. Now, let’s see what this week’s story is about.
Lessons To Learn
“The way you flirt is shameful.”
I laughed, “That wasn’t flirting. That was just being friendly.”
“You always do that to get your way. Flirt. It’s second nature to you.”
“I wasn’t flirting!”
Turning my chair towards my co-worker, I frowned and wondered what got her panties in a twist this morning. Millie was usually so cheerful and upbeat but today she seemed to complain about everything. I saw her eyes fill up with tears and her lower lip tremble. Yes, definitely something was wrong with her.
“Millie? What’s wrong? Why are you crying?”
She turned away from me and her shoulders hunched over her desk. Walking over to her I put my hand on her shoulder and asked her again what was wrong.
“Everything!”, she cried. “My whole life is a mess and nobody cares.”
Usually, I run away from such dramatics. Stresses me out but this was Millie and since coming to work for this company she has always been a constant source of smiles and cheerfulness. Until today. Something had to be seriously wrong for her to turn into this mess of tears and drama.
“Come on, Mill, tell me what’s going on.”
“I’m in love and I hate it!” And with that statement, she went into full-blown, snot forming, eye swelling, red nose crying.
“Well, usually being in love is a good thing. So, I take it he doesn’t reciprocate your feelings?”
“I don’t know!”, she wailed. “I’ve never talked to him.”
That statement set me back a second. Never talked to him? Who was this love of her life and why in hell has Miss Never Knew a Stranger never talked to him? The mystery deepens.
“Ok, hold on a second. You are in love with someone you never talked to? Am I correct?”
Snuffling into her kleenex she nodded her head.
“Um, Mill…is this a real person? Or is this a character in one of your favorite books?” I was just checking for accuracy because with Millie it could be either.
“Of course he’s real.” And with that statement, she went off into another round of tears.
“OK, ok. Just wanted to make sure I got my facts straight.” I patted her shoulder and the tears slowed down. “So tell me why you two have never talked and where you met this man.”
“We haven’t met. That’s the problem. I see him every morning in the coffee shop I stop at on the way to work. He’s cute and I love him.” She looked at me, almost like she was challenging me to say something smart-alecky. I didn’t.
I could see this man meant a lot to her even if they never exchanged a word.
“Why don’t you start a conversation? You always do here. You never seem to have nothing to say to anyone who comes in the office.”
“This is different. I don’t love the people who come into the office so I don’t worry if I look like a fool to them.”
“Ahhh, I see.” I did too. It’s always just a little harder to talk to someone if you’re always worried about how they view you.
“I want to be like you. I want to be able to flirt and not care what others think. I want to flirt with HIM but I don’t know how.”
With that statement, the tears started to flow once again. Then an idea came to me.
“Millie, what if I teach you how to flirt? You could flirt with him and win his love!” I wasn’t sure how I was going to do it but I needed to stop the tears again. Good thing it was a slow day at work or this could have gotten really embarrassing fast.
“Is something like that teachable?” Millie asked with doubt in her voice. Hell if I knew, but if it stopped her from crying I’d give it a shot. I thought to myself, well how hard could it be? A slow smile at him, a longish look. Sure that’s teachable, wasn’t it?
We would soon find out.
Ok folks, is this story true or is it fiction? Let me know! Do you think flirting is something that can be taught? Or is it something someone is born with?