A Loving Home

After posting a blog dedicated to Channeling Emotion on The Writer's Vibe site, I decided to follow my own process and 'cleanse' my negative energy. I set my thoughts to the NPR's, Three-Minute Fiction, writing Format and here's what I came up with:


Some people swore that the house was haunted. I preferred it that way. I caused it to be so.

I over-saw the construction myself, picking out every detail from lighting to specific wood-grains. My husband's business often kept him distant for days but I didn't mind creating on my own. I rather enjoyed the process.

We moved into our home that autumn bringing with us our treasures, our most precious being our three year old son. We all adored the house. All my hard work yielded rewards even beyond what I could have imagined. We filled the rooms with our love and laughter. Our house was more than a home, it was family.

Then came the night. Alone I slept in our over-sized bed soothed by the summer noises of crickets and frogs but something awoke me. I lay still - listening.... My peripheral vision caught the figure looming at my side. The taste of leather filled my mouth as his hand clamped over my lips smothering my scream.

"Don't make this harder than it has to be, lady." The reek of alcohol expectorated from his breath as his whiskers tore at the delicate skin of my cheek.

Vomit rose to my throat. I couldn't breath. I felt my body quiver.

My son screamed from his adjacent room. Dear God there was more than one of them. I had to save him. He was just a baby. Think! But all my thoughts were fog. Just think of something!

Tears burned my eyes. I was paralyzed - useless. What were they doing to him? My mind was crippled by self-inflected images.

Then the man in my son's room shouted. The man's voice shifted into a scream before pinching off into silence.

I felt my assailant stiffen. He stared at the doorway gazing at something he knew was impossible.

"Who the hell are you?" His bravado finished in fear. He raised his arms to defend himself but his attempt was in vain. His body dropped with a lifeless thud to the floor.

I sat up as my son's footsteps pattered down the hallway and into my arms. We embraced, returning love and nothing was ever the same again after that.