The New Home

I wrote this piece of flash as a response to the challenge of writing a 100 word story.

Frail Hands

 

The New Home

Breaking glass shatters my thoughts.

“Who’s there?”

Silence. My heart thrums, reverberating inside my head. Why are they torturing me? Grabbing Steve’s baseball thingy, I creep toward the sound.

The cooking room, that’s where they are. I push the door open and catch her red-handed. “Stay where you are, I’m calling the police!”

“Mum, it’s me, Claire. Put the bat away.”

“No, stop trying to trick me. You’re here to—“ The words get lost somewhere inside my mind. Why can’t I remember?

“Oh, Mum. Let’s get you to bed. You’re just over-excited about your new home.”