Welcome to 3WW, a writer’s prompt that lasts a whole week. Take the words proved, write something with them, then come back and leave a link. Please go out and see what others have created, comment, criticize. And no, if you don’t get something up on Wednesday, you’re never penalized. Just contribute something before the next three words go up.
And those three new words are:
“Between the Pink Elephant and the Padded Room”
Before I went crazy everyone said I was normal. Which goes to show that nobody knows nothing about anything. It’s understandable that your mother believes the best except when she’s drinking and whoring around because your father beats her and then goes out brawling so that the sheriff calls the next morning looking for bail money and instead gets a blow job as a forfeit even though your mother has two black eyes. She’s tells you to get out so off you go to school not to learn but to escape the weight of the knowledge that soon it will be your turn even though you’re only nine years old because everyone knows there is no justice for trash like you.
Want to know why kids like me start drinking, doing drugs and fucking so young? It’s not because we go out seeking a tryst for the thrill of defying society – that’s what the rich kids do when they’re bored – it’s because if we don’t hurt ourselves first, then someone else will and there’s nothing worse than being helpless to stop the abuse. It’s sick and twisted the way morality is worshiped by those who lack the capacity and compassion to understand that survival trumps all laws. Feeling so superior and smug they entwine platitudes and slogans with prisons and institutions. The fact that my facade passed for ‘normal’ for so long should be celebrated not condemned. The right to abuse myself is the only thing I have left of my own.
By Rose D. Kaye, January 14th, 2009