. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . where ImagInatIon comes to play

Wednesday, June 6, 2012

mushroom


It was no big deal, really. A misunderstanding. That's what we all thought at first. All of us except for Becca. It was much more than that to her, and at the time, despite thinking the four of us were the best of friends, none of us knew her well enough to make sense of what was happening.

For her, the mention of what amounted to a child's lie mushroomed from a well deep within, one that held childhood secrets we would eventually come to know. For Becca, the room had filled with rapacious monsters she couldn't fight off. For Becca, a few words - I couldn't even tell you now which ones precisely - had seeped into her core and consumed her almost entirely.

It would be a while before any of us there that night came to hear Becca's story (I would love her more than I thought possible when I did). A sorrowful, heavy shadow clung to our spirits as the three of us exited the hospital doors that night.

2 comments:

Anonymous said...
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Marjolaine Hébert said...

I've just removed a critique by an anonymous reader. Critique can be a welcome thing, but it requires trust.
I will continue to accept comments by anonymous readers, but critique will require a name.