Invisible Land
short story
Published on:
Feb. 16, 2008, 9:28amWord Count:
2780Work Description
This short story was one of my first to win a contest. It is written in the first person from the perspective of an abused child.
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Invisible Land
The light outside my window ain’t enough and there’s monsters in the closet and under my bed. I can’t see them but I can see their shadows. I can’t move or scream. Crying does no good because no one will hear me and no one will come but the monsters. It’s so quiet. I wish there was noise but not any of the sounds I’m used to -something comforting for a change would do. I wish someone would come in my room to see if I need them but I know that’s not gonna happen because that never happens. I’m slow to wipe the tears from my eyes, forcing myself to breath now. I’m getting too old for this. I’m gonna be ten soon and I’ve gotta start acting my age! I’ve gotta stop this hurt in my stomach and in my head and I gotta be brave, close my eyes and go to sleep already.
I did everything right until now. I locked the front door behind me and I didn’t answer the phone or the door once I got in. I ate something for dinner and even washed myself, brushed my teeth and changed my shirt. None of those things I did right will matter if I’m not asleep when mom and dad get home. As far as the monsters, they’re just make-believe!
They’re just make-believe . . . just make-believe . . . make believe . . .
There are presents all around me. Besides me is the bike I always wanted. It’s so shiny and it’s got the detailing and the off-road tires on it too. I start ripping open the presents and tossing the paper aside and nobody care’s about the mess. Of course no one’s here but me but that’s okay. I just realized that it’s Christmas because of the lights on the tree. There’s so many presents that I didn’t even notice the tree and all the decorations everywhere. Now I can smell the cookies too. I haven’t felt happiness like this in forever. It feels like the warmth of sunshine yet from within. I drop back in the colorful wrappings and bows and close my eyes. There’s a slam of a door and the lights get lower but I ignore it. There’s another slam of the door and the darkness grows deeper now, harder to ignore. I don’t want the dream to end so I force myself to keep my eyes closed to see that the presents are still there. I can feel them slipping away. There’s screaming somewhere outside my dream -outside my room. No, dammit!
I can feel myself awakening while everything good slips from my grasp. All the presents and even the monsters are gone because mom and dad are home.
They’re yelling at each other and they’re so loud. I know what’s gonna happen next. I tense my body like a rock but I still jump when the crashing sound comes. I wonder what I will see in the morning that’s broken this time. Last time it was dishes and a huge spaghetti stain on the wall that resembled a mutant butterfly.
I hope they don’t come in here. The hurt in my stomach is trying to come back so I have to close my eyes tight and try to go back to sleep. I’ll try and go back to that Christmastime I only have in my dreams. It’s just that the screaming is too loud not to ignore. The neighbors are gonna be pissed. My head and stomach hurts again. I’ll rock myself in the bed -that always helps. Just hold my stomach, lift my legs and use my head to rock. I burp up the taste of the peanut-butter and jelly sandwich I made for dinner.
I could hear my dad hit my mom again. The yelling stopped. There’s the slam of a door and I know he’s gone. I can hear my mom crying. I don’t know why but I don’t want to go help. She should know not to push him or make him angry. I don’t want to see her but I can hear her coming closer so I roll in my bed facing away from the door and close my eyes again. Her crying turns to sobs and then to gulps just like I do when dad hits me when I have it coming.
The door creaks open. I lay
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Good job describing the teasing & bulling of other children, it brought back a lot of the feeling and memories when I was sexually abused at a young age. I know this is a tuff subject to write about. You described very well the outward part of child abuse but one thing I thought of what was really going on inside of that child, how often was he being abuse? I'm not a critique, i jusst learning alot about writing myself. i could relate to what you were saying but found my self asking questions about the child. thanks for sharing.
Thank you both for your comments!
Obviously you are not looking for corrections to this story because it's awesome. So I just wanted to point out my favorite line to you, for the sake of a pat on the back
As always, I get off the bus at the second to the last stop. It’s further away for me to walk but if I were invisible I’d have to get off at this stop anyway.
Absolutely brilliant!
This is a really great peice. You did an excellent job of getting the narrator's emotion out there so that the reader could feel those emotions too. The baby bird image was very poignant and I can already tell it's an image that's going to stay in my mind for a while. I also liked that you didn't over simplify the way the narrator spoke just because he is a kid, in my opinion people underestimate what kids are capable of. Good job telling a story about a topic that a lot of people don't want to think about.
Just simply beautifully written. Simple and to the point. Abuse. Very sad but true.
What I liked most was the simplicit , clear, to the point writing style. You can only but feel the little boys fear. Very emotional.
I could have read more. It was good. Interesting reading.
It was so real, it felt like front page news paper reading. Thats how believable the story was. Really good work.
What a refreshing change it would be to have one day go by were I don’t have to suffer through this humiliation.
I liked this, because at some point in our lives I think we all felt this way.
This is such a profound story, to think that this could actually be happening out in the real world! I read it a couple of times, I could feel the pain and anquish of the character and somehow the feelings that you had when you wrote it. Child abuse is the worst crime to me...you wrote this well enough to get feelings from me that I never bothered to look for errors...lol! I love it when a writer can get a rise out of me and this you have done. This story will stick in my mind and memory for awhile you were even able to create visuals that weren't really clear but clear enough... You have a unique style to your writing and I look forward to reading more... Write on!!