Monday, July 28, 2014

Freedom, by Violet Ingram **Summer Blog Writing Challenge**

The Challenge:
In 3,000 words or less write about a woman that decides to go on vacation alone. Why did she do this? What does she do on her vacation? Does she discover romance, adventure, or danger?

The Result:

I sat across from my step-mother and tried not to stare as she sipped her tea. It tasted bitter, I knew, but now she needed me so there would be no snide comments today. She had easily believed I would donate a kidney to save my father’s life, even after he had left my mom and me for her. Once they’d said “I do” Janet had made sure he hadn’t had time for me, until now when he needed me or at least part of me.
I smiled as Janet’s eyes became heavy. I leaned across the table and grabbed the cup before any of the liquid could spill out. She tried to speak but her words were a garbled mess. I got up from the table and made sure when she slumped over that she didn’t fall to the floor. I wasn’t completely cruel or heartless.
I cleaned up the kitchen then pulled a gallon size plastic bag from my purse. I stuffed the two mugs inside and sealed it up. When I was sure everything was as it should be, I grabbed my purse and headed for my car.
***
Half way to my destination I pulled off the highway and disposed of anything that could be troublesome for me in the days to come.
Four hours later I pulled into the driveway of the old cabin where mom and I had spent our summers for the past 15 years. She’d fought tooth and nail for it during the divorce and my father had finally relented.
After I finished unpacking, I sat on the back deck with a lovely view of the lake and waited the phone to ring. I didn’t have long to wait. My father called with the “tragic” news of my step-mother’s death. I feigned surprise, but could not fabricate anything that resembled sympathy.
Over the next few days I enjoyed the peace and quiet in between my father’s more frequent and frantic calls. He was suffering. Not only had he “lost the love of his life”, but his health had declined, especially after I informed him that I had changed my mind about being his donor.
Twelve days into my vacation, my mom called with the good news-- my father had succumbed to a heart attack and would be buried next to my step-mother.
I left the cabin long enough to attend my father’s funeral and take care of all the legal stuff. As, I was his only living heir, I received his entire estate. Once everything was settled, I returned to the cabin. I anonymously sent five thousand dollars to the library where I’d stolen a book on untraceable poisons. I thought it was a fair trade.
I spent the rest of the summer enjoying the lake and my freedom for the first time in years. It truly was the best vacation of my life.

Violet Ingram
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