Four Years Old
The backyard is caked with patches of dirt between the yellowed grass. It scratches at Sissy's tender legs. She had given up running off; the sun blazed just too bright. They both needed a drink. Pink peonies snuck through the rusted chain-link fence surrounding the yard. There was something unnatural about it all, but it was their backyard and Momma never said no, unless it was dark.
Sissy was tired. She began to whimper, low and soft like a disgraced dog. Her eyes unfocused like Momma's and Tommy thought his heart would wrench right out of his chest; he felt so guilty for being annoyed with her.
He dug his heels into the dry earth extra hard so as to not slip. He raised the lower half of his body up and pulled a yellow pack of matches out of his back pocket.
"Look, Sissy. Wanna see the lights?" He had watched Momma do this a hundred times.
He struck quickly across the black and held up the light brown stick in careful fingers. He watched the pale orange light give off it's wavy rays.
Sissy's head bobbled slightly before she recognized the match.
"Oh," she sighed. "Happy Birdday, Tommy."
She leaned forward, fingers spread deep into the grass between her legs.
Her lips curled and she blew. Tommy watched the spit dropping from her baby pink lips, landing wet and cool on her leg.
The backyard is caked with patches of dirt between the yellowed grass. It scratches at Sissy's tender legs. She had given up running off; the sun blazed just too bright. They both needed a drink. Pink peonies snuck through the rusted chain-link fence surrounding the yard. There was something unnatural about it all, but it was their backyard and Momma never said no, unless it was dark.
Sissy was tired. She began to whimper, low and soft like a disgraced dog. Her eyes unfocused like Momma's and Tommy thought his heart would wrench right out of his chest; he felt so guilty for being annoyed with her.
He dug his heels into the dry earth extra hard so as to not slip. He raised the lower half of his body up and pulled a yellow pack of matches out of his back pocket.
"Look, Sissy. Wanna see the lights?" He had watched Momma do this a hundred times.
He struck quickly across the black and held up the light brown stick in careful fingers. He watched the pale orange light give off it's wavy rays.
Sissy's head bobbled slightly before she recognized the match.
"Oh," she sighed. "Happy Birdday, Tommy."
She leaned forward, fingers spread deep into the grass between her legs.
Her lips curled and she blew. Tommy watched the spit dropping from her baby pink lips, landing wet and cool on her leg.
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