Image courtesy of Sandra Crook
I’m a patchwork of shame, despair and sorrow, woven together with fear. You pick away at my confidence. I’m too fat, too thin; too loud, too quiet. I’m unraveling. The threads holding me together become slacker, until I’m nothing but a heap of rags on the floor.
‘Scraps no-one else would want,’ you say. ‘Worthless.’ And as I hear this, there’s a shift. Anger surges and slowly I tighten my stitching, pad out myself esteem, until I’m standing tall on the doorstep telling you it’s over. As I watch you walk away I touch my mouth, feeling my smile stretch beneath my fingertips. I’m whole again.
Written for Friday Fictioneers – a 100 word story challenge inspired by a photo prompt. Hop over to host Rochelle’s blog and read the other entries, and join in!