UnTitLeD | Flash Fiction

Well, it happened again. I was going to bury my face in the pillow and sleep but the writer part of my brain wouldn’t let me, and knowing how it works, it’ll be a restless sleep if I force it. I decided to write a hundred word story but my brain still wouldn’t have any of it. So I let my fingers do what they want. Look what came out. Do read and tell me what you think.

---

---

“Have you seen something like this before?” he asked.

I shook my head. He smiled and calmly pried the disc out of my left fingers. My eyes followed the pictures drawn on it as he slid it into the player. That was a lie. I had seen something similar on Sarah’s bed when I went looking for my pyjamas the night before. Mama had a way of folding and putting away laundry in the wrong places. Sarah had snatched the magazine from me, stuffed the clothes into my hands before nudging me out of her room. I stood in front of the closed door wondering what was inside, if it was stories with pictures like we read in school.

I watched him press play on the remote control. We hardly use the video machine unless Dad rented an old film. I licked chocolate off my left fingers and stared at the TV. A girl was dancing. I frowned. The girl on the magazine wasn’t dancing, rather, she was seated, her eyes closed, her mouth slightly open. I wasn’t exactly sure what she was sitting on. Sarah didn’t let me have a good look.

He was watching me. I noticed because this was different. Not the usual way he used to look at me before carrying me up and tickling me. There was something in his eyes, a wild glow that made me look away. I shuddered and continued to watch the action on the TV. The girl had finished dancing. In her hands was a familiar looking toy which also looked a little strange at the same time. I was sure I had seen it somewhere before. She pushed a button and the toy began to make funny wheezing sound. It reminded me of Mama’s hand dryer. Then I remembered. He had scooped ice-cream on a similar toy and gave it to me the last time I was in his room. I smiled. He smiled back and walked over to sit beside me.

“Come,” he patted his laps.

I climbed on, my eyes still fixed on the TV.

“Open your legs,” he whispered.

That was the beginning of it all.

My name is Nina. I was only six.

_{Word count: 368}

_{Image Source}