Tuesday Tales with Chain

Ahoy Fellow Fathomers! It's time for Tuesday Tales.

A group of writers gather together and give our interpretation of a specific word prompt each week. Once per month, we even write to an image.  You never know what you might encounter when you get inside our minds. This week our group writes to the word-chain.  This will be an excerpt from my new yet-to-be-named WIP.

Enjoy!~

“I have people whispering behind my back too, but, they don’t do it as much the more time passes. Eventually they stop.” Owen thought back to the times when everyone in town looked at him with a mixed gaze of fear and pity. He hated it then and really hated it now. “Plus, I have tough skin, it all rolls off.” Owen knew that was a lie, but, it sounded good.

“Let’s stop with the motivational speech. My life hasn’t been any good from as far back as I can remember. I was basically still a kid when everything got messed up. This isn’t about sticks and stones breaking my bones, but words never hurting me. I didn’t have a choice, I wasn’t even at home- I had no alternatives.”

Owen squeezed his eyes shut against the flood of bad memories, usually he did a very good job of keeping his darkest secrets in check. But, this was Pearl and he cared about her and maybe it was time to start purging his mysteries. He cleared his throat, yet his words still sounded like a bullfrog croaking. “My mom is in jail.” Chain would be less binding around his vocal cords.

“I’m sorry, Owen. I can’t imagine how hard that could be.” Pearl’s words trailed off, pain ricocheted off each syllable. “We don’t have to talk about this.”

“I can’t go into details right now, maybe sometime soon you and I can talk about everything. But, maybe this helps you understand you can trust me. I do get where you’re coming from. I promise.”

“Owen, I appreciate you shared that with me, I know it wasn’t easy for you to do.”

“Yea, but, you don’t feel like sharing with me? Nothing, you have nothing to say? I feel like such a girl right now.” Owen angrily shoved their picnic blanket into the duffel bag.

Pearl suddenly looked life weary and she looked off into the distance. “I don’t want you mad at me. I’m sorry.” Her words trailed off and she walked up next to Owen. “How much longer will she be there?”

Owen shrugged his shoulders. “I dunno. I don’t go visit her.” He surveyed their spot one more time. “We’ve cleaned it all up, I’m ready to go back to Mr. Richard’s house now.” He started for the narrow trail.

“Wait, Owen, there’s something I do want to tell you.” Pearl ran up to meet Owen and tugged on the arm of his shirt. “Will you please stop?”

Years of pent up emotions bubbled closer to the surface than they had before. He never had anyone other than Caleb and Morgan he could really talk to about his mom’s incarceration. Of course, everyone in town knew what happened and every so often he would catch the sideways glance of pity and horror. His steel trap mind began pushing the brain vault shut, not really listening to Pearl. “Give me a minute, would you?”

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