Challenge Tuesday: Inspired by the song Ghost- 487 words
Enola Patterson sprinted across the forest floor, her shoes creating soft footprints in the mud and leaves. Branches and fallen trees lay sprawled across the ground while the wind whipped up stray needles into her soft brown hair. Yet, none of that stopped her save Enola's lack of vigor. She bent over, hands on her knees, attempting to catch her breath. It was not long before she found herself down by the river with her bare feet in the cool waters, eyes lost in the setting sun.
Escaping her household was not uncommon to Enola, but the frequency and time of it was taxing. It would not be long before the sky would darken and she would be forced to make her way back through the woods to the family cabin. Though, avoiding her father was something Enola would not hesitate to accomplish.
Carefully, Enola assessed her appearance using the still water. Across her face, the hand print of a man remained irritated and inflamed was partially blocked by the sweat drenched hair matted around her face. A line of bruises trailed down her neck to the side of her rib cage. Enola looked at the blemish under her shirt and poked it, tearing up as she winced in pain.
Still, she thought, better than the last time.
To say Enola came from a pleasant family would be a lie. She could never imagine a life when her parents were in love, much less got along. Yet, Enola's mother still loved her daughter, so much. Sadly, her mother died in childbirth leaving Enola and her younger brother Mathew alone with their father.
Now, Nickolas did not mean to be abusive or cruel to his wife and children, but an addiction to alcohol can bring a beast out of any saint. When he drank, anything Nickolas did was due to the intoxication be it the words he said or the bruises he made. In all honesty however, he had not a clue as to why he laid a hand on his children or wife, but it did not stop him from bringing the bottle to his lips. Cravings can drive a man to insanity.
Enola sighed, bringing her legs up to her chest, groaning in agony. The sky had blackened like charcoal and the icy still air chilled her wet feet. She knew that she had to either return home or become lost in the wilderness as she slipped her feet back into her shoes. Enola stood up, rubbing her bare arms against the frost and hung her head and began to walk slowly.
She realized that she had never missed the warmth of her bed so much, though Enola knew she would not dare sleep when Nickolas was on a drunk rampage. For some strange reason, however, Enola knew the ghost of her mother would protect her that night when she returned from the path down by the river.
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AN: I realize this is extremely raw and needs to be editied, but then again it is only a prompt. So, tell me what you think!
