Welcome to the Wakefield Doctrine (the theory of clarks, scotts and rogers)
The prompt word is ‘Fault’ for this week’s Six Sentence Story.
New Readers? The Six Sentence Story bloghop is zoe’s weekly dare: ‘Hey! you know the word, ‘Fault’? Never mind what definition, the word, do you know it? Fine. You know how to make up a story? Well, me and my little dog dare you to write a story that involves that word and do it in six and only six sentences. What?!? Fault! Weren’t you listening?! (“Keep your eye on this one Joule. Yeah, ‘ARR’ to you too.“).
It’s challenging and fun, you should join us this week. And you can write anything you’d like. For example, some people are writing serial stories, every Thursday a six sentence installment. Others write amazing set pieces, mood and humor all wrapped up in little six sentence bundles. This week, I’m going to pre-borrow from the next Chapter of ‘Home and Heart’ for a scene to form my Six around. (New Readers: If you’re like me and are constantly trying to improve ‘the skills’, taking a large scene and making it fit into Six Sentences is, like, totally good practice.)
Fault
Sister Catherine looked at the woman who sat in the empty classroom and said, “Thank you for coming in today, Roanne, I’m very concerned about your daughter, Patrice.”
Roanne Avila sat and felt her days as a pupil at St. Dominique’s whisper from the wood and metal of the desk, looked up, her cautious movements forgotten in the memories that grew in her mind, let the wave of an obviously new hairstyle fall to the side of her face; the nun tensed as she saw the smudge of reddish orange at the corner of her former pupil’s eye, an un-noticed stutter in the application of make-up.
Sister Catherine, (though very few would have the suicidal daring to ask, grew up in an orphanage with the unlikely name, ‘the Miami Children Center’, only in part unusual for being in Ohio), knew the palette of abuse, the colors of shame and secret pain, stepped around her desk and crouched next to the young woman, who tried to turn her head away.
“Roanne, look at me,” her tone, while not one of a person only hoping to be obeyed, held a barely noticeable tremor of concern, as she reached with thin, graceful fingers, a plain gold band her sole touch of color and held the younger woman’s chin, far more gently than the wire-rimmed glasses and bleached white wimple framing her face would ever suggest, and turned the woman’s head slightly.
“My husband Roger works so hard at the casino providing for me and the kids, he really is a good man, I shouldn’t complain so much, it’s my fault that he hit me,” the young woman’s voice held more emotions than a single sentence should be able to contain.
Sister Catherine’s touch became stronger yet more gentle, as if holding a child against a sudden onslaught of cold wind, and with eyes that blazed with the un-definable power of a childless mother, said in a whispered shout, “You must never say that, you are entitled to live your life without being hurt by another just because they want someone else to feel as bad as they do.”
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Powerfully sad 6.
Having said that, I am looking forward to Chapter 2!
yeah… me too! (lol… I’m beginning to get an idea of what the Chapter will be about.)
I’m glad to have a peek into Chapter 2 and I must say this all to often told tale of abuse, where a victim perceives herself to be at fault, always has the power to evoke unease inside me. Your use of the cue is spot on in any context.
yeah, as I replied to Denise, the process is slow to begin (getting the characters to reveal the story) but I’m seeing some change… learning about Sister Catherine’s personal life did a lot.
A powerful six indeed! I have witnessed this scenario more times than I can count in many years of working, and it always fills me with horror and rage, that someone is so beaten down their only thought it to try to cover up the damage and make excuses for the abuser out of embarrassment and shame, and sometimes not knowing what else to do… or being afraid to do it.
It is such a tragic aspect of some (far too many) lives. no one in contact with such a circumstance can remain un-affected.
Very powerful and like the rest, I want to hear more.
thanks… perhaps not every Six (but many, as it is instructional for me to work with the constraints of the Six Sentences)
It hurts so much i don’t know what to say.
suspect you have
Oh My…Oh My…such a powerful ending paragraph/scene. I would likely cry if it didn’t produce worse headaches… Thank you for this, a voice from the wilderness speaking to my battered soul. Truth and balm, so needed by so many.
you are very welcome. I am grateful for your comment.
This is one of your best. Just how mamy millions of wives have been the punching bag for weak and unsuccesful husbands over the years and sadly it still goes on.
Thanks E
From the book. And well done! You’re inspiring: your writing is totally evolving and it’s truly eloquent and cryptic in a way that reveals a masterful writer. Well done!
Thankee Miz Leaf!
I have walked a mile in Roanne’s shoes. This story is so sad. (A couple of weeks ago I learned how hard it is to cover a shiner with makeup, after I tripped and faceplanted. No, my husband really did not do it – I can trip over carpet lint.)
A very well written story.
The last line is perfect:
“You must never say that, you are entitled to live your life without being hurt by another just because they want someone else to feel as bad as they do.”
I love your intros as much as the stories….you know your dog is supposed to write the six right?
OMG Clark, just read the story. You have become such an eloquent writer….
And now I suspect that Sister Catherine is even more concerned about Patrice. I do hope she will be able to help Roanne gain the confidence she needs to be able to help herself and Patrice, too.
I’m looking forward to that (part of the story) as well. Even the little information we (now) have about Sister Catherine’s life, she is becoming increasingly interesting. For instance, we know that her ‘real’ name, the name given to her by the orphanage was Eleanor McManus.