ForwardA Chapter by May
I never forgot how dry this place was. I took my shoes off and felt the barren dirt of my past against my feet. I could remember the hour, the minute, and if I really looked back I could probably remember the second. I was only a few hundred feet away from the memories that I tried to block for the majority of my life; I couldn't explain why I came here. This was the last place I ever wanted to be, but I was there. I was walking through the mud, running my fingers through the blankets of moss that hung from the treelimbs. Everything was just how I remembered it. They said I shouldn't have returned to the place that left me with such horrible scars, but I had to. The nightmares stopped about five years after I left, but they were starting up again. I knew I had to come back, it was only a matter of time.
My legs forced me down the road that seemed so long. It was just how I remembered it. I learned to survive when I was young and never got to enjoy life . Everything I did had to be thought through or I would endure punishment. Horrible punishments...
I left during summer and never looked back. The excruciating pain of a beating hot sun had nothing on a day in my house.
I was born in Clarkwillow, Louisiana in 1939. My father left when I was two; my mother said he was a good man. She also said that she would stop drinking.
I knew better than to trust a drunk.
© 2011 May
Added on April 19, 2010
Last Updated on May 7, 2011
Paths to Grace
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