Loss of child Stories

I woke up to the smell of dog shit and bleach, and the sound of my mother’s voice muttering to herself - again. It always sounded like a lecture, I guess when you’re a teacher that part of your voice never goes away. I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes and made my way to the kitchen, where she was on her hands and knees scrubbing the floor. I looked over at my brother, looking like he’d been punched in the face. “What happe...

Her hands tremble, running through her hair in an anxious gesture. The alien four walls around her seem to be pressing closer the longer she stays here; compressing all of the echos of words, all of her stray thoughts, all of her fear into her tiny little bubble. Her icy calm exterior begins to crack where the warmth of little fingertips traces. The signs of it melting trickle down her face in tiny salt water streams. His...