Moon - A Tenth Daughter of Memory Post

This post is my submission for the current Tenth Daughter of Memory topic, which is 'Moon'.

It is also chapter seven of the novel I am writing for NanNoWriMo.

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Back in his kitchen, Jake tossed the photo down on the table and walked over to the refrigerator. Had he not been so upset, he would have laughed at how cliche the contents of the appliance were.

Inside the door stood a bottle of ketchup, a bottle of mustard and a small glass jar of relish, all cheap, store brand items. Jake couldn't recall the last time he had touched one of them.

Beer made up the majority of items in the rest of the fridge. Two six-packs of the only brand he drank took up the entire top shelf. Below, a small tub of margarine and half a loaf of bread. Below that, a container from the Chinese place. He couldn't recall what was in it or when he had shoved it in here.

Next to it was a bottle of wine, laying on its side.

His eyes stayed on the wine as his hand reached for a beer. Sara had bought it and he could never bring himself to drink it. In fact, he had never even touched it. He let it lay, unopened, undisturbed, aging slowly, waiting.

With a beer in hand, he shut the door.

After using the edge of the counter to knock the cap off the bottle, he turned back to the small table. The sight of the picture he had dropped brought up the anger he had come home with, so instead he walked to the back door and out into the night.

A small set of five stairs led from the door to the walkway in his back yard. He sat on the top step and took a sip. The beer was cold and made him realize how unseasonably warm the air out here was. Much warmer than an early November night ought to be, he thought. Looking into the small yard, he realized it was much brighter than it should be, too.

He could barely make out the grass, which he knew needed mowing. The fallen leaves had covered almost the entire yard. He hadn't thought about raking them up. He mentally added them to his chore list, but wondered if they would still be here come Spring.

Further back, where Sara's old vegetable garden had been, tall weeds stood, dry and dying. They looked odd, he thought, creepy. He turned his gaze slowly upward, searching for the source of this midnight light.

He found it quickly, hovering above the skeletal trees, watching him. The moon, round and full and remarkably huge, with an orange glow that reminded Jake of fire. He sat, sipping his beer, staring at the moon as it stared back.

For so long he had felt alone.

His mother, his friends... They all meant well, but they really didn't understand what he was going through. He had taken to acting when he was with them, to play a role instead of just being himself. Always feeling more alone after spending time with any of them than he did before.

So, he avoided them.

And Gramps was gone. Until Sara came along, Gramps was the one person Jake could talk to, about anything. And even after Sara, he was the only one Jake could talk to about certain things. But Gramps was gone, and Jake still didn't know how to feel about his disappearance from his life.

And then there was Sara. Damn, how he missed her. The guilt rose up inside him, so he sipped the beer to quell it. It didn't help.

He looked up at the moon again. It just hung there, silently watching him. And for a moment, Jake didn't feel so alone.

Then a breeze picked up, causing the dry leaves to dance around the yard. There was a chill in the with the wind, a gentle reminder that this was November, after all.

Jake stood and, holding his beer out in front of him, looked up at the moon once more.

"Thanks for listening." he said. tipping the bottle a bit. Then he downed what was left and placed the empty bottle along the porch ledge, lining it up with all the others.

He stepped back in to his empty home. Alone.

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For more Tenth Daughter of Memory posts, click here ---> Moon

For my page at the NaNoWriMo site, click here ---> Wings1295

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Tenth Daughter of Memory: DISTANCE

Earlier this month, I wrote about a new blog/project I am part of: The Tenth Daughter of Memory.

The first topic chosen was "And so it begins...", and lo and behold, my post won!

Cool! Thanks to those who voted.

My post was: The Beginning

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The new topic has to be picked by the winner, and I chose:

"Distance"


Painting by Roman Gumanyuk

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To participate, check out The Tenth Daughter of Memory!

It will be more fun with more bloggers joining in. And remember, it doesn't have to be writing, it can be whatever you want it to be!

C'mon... You know you want to!

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The Beginning

Enough is enough, Pam thought.

She had obeyed her husband's wishes for four long years.

Part of her knew he was right, at least in the beginning. She had been so afraid of anything happening to her precious new baby boy that she had willingly gone along with her husband's very strict, unwavering rule: Never leave the house. She had kept her son inside, always away from prying eyes and gossiping mouths.

They had been four long years. But never lonely. She had her amazing son to fuss over and focus on.

Her husband wasn't really interested in her anymore anyway, nor she in him. He insisted her singular obsession with their boy had ruined their love for one another. But in reality, it was his barely concealed hate of the child that had made her grow to despise the man she had once adored. Their only moments of intimacy came when he was drunk and demanding.

That had resulted in their new baby daughter, who needed attention that Pam just couldn't spare. She knew she had begun to neglect the infant, but the boy just need more love, more time, more patience.

Her husband didn't understand. He said she preferred the boy over everyone else, that she didn't even care about the little girl.

Well, so what? Pam had spat back. Her son had no one else. Certainly not his father, that was for damn sure. So she had to compensate. She had to be not only his mother, but also his father, his friend, his playmate. The truth was, she was his life, and he was hers.

The boy had witnessed this fight between his parents and reacted as he usually did, crying and screaming.

When her husband raised his hand to strike her beautiful boy for the very first time in his life, she snapped. The woman she became in that moment was strong as steel and willing to do whatever it took to defend her helpless little boy.

Her husband's eyes said it all. There was fear there that he had never possessed before. Within an hour, him and their daughter were gone. It was just her and her boy now. The way it should have always been.

To be honest, Pam was relieved. Now she didn't have to worry about the crying baby or her drunk husband demanding any of her time. She could focus solely on her son. Her beautiful boy.

But last night was the past. Today was the future. And she would hide no more.
The walk to the park was uneventful. The few people they passed stared at her child. He was beautiful, she had to admit. A special boy.

At the park, she sat on a bench, like all the other mothers, while her child ran off to play like all the other children. Soon though, there were cries. One by one, the mothers took their children left the park. Odd she thought.

He had climbed up into a swing and was trying to gain momentum. Pam got up from her bench and walked over to push her boy.

He was smiling and happy. This has gone well, she thought, oblivious to the fact that the park was now deserted, save the two of them.

Her mind raced ahead. School, she thought. She would need to sign him up for Kindergarten. She could volunteer to help the teacher, just in case he needed her during the day.

And baseball, too, that would be good for him and his energy. She could help there, too, maybe even coach. She didn't care what the other mothers thought of that.

And then in a year or two, summer camp. She could work there, as well. Anything to make sure her boy was well taken care of.

"Yes, Jason. Mommy wants you to have such a wonderful life. Just like any other little boy."

Pamela Voorhess pushed her son on the swing, and he squealed with delight.

The Tenth Daughter of Memory

Today I want to highlight a new blog/project I am a part of.

The Tenth Daughter of Memory is a new blog that aims to generate creativity among bloggers, writers and creators of all kinds.

Twice a month, a topic will be posted. Anyone who wishes can then do a post on their own blog using the topic in some way. No rules on what you create, you have total freedom. Writing, pictures, memories, drawings, musings, videos - WHATEVER. Just have it connect with the topic in some way.

There will be a deadline for each topic, and once that deadline is reached, no further submissions will be allowed. Then, all those who want to can read all the posts. But the catch is you have to vote for the blog you like the best out of the lot.

The winner of each topic gets the 'honor' of posting the next topic. And it all begins again.

Hopefully, it will all be fun, creative and interesting.

The first topic went up yesterday, so head on over to The Tenth Daughter of Memory if you want to take part. We look forward to seeing you there!