Lilac By Dodi Bullock

Lilac By Dodi Bullock January 6 2018


Lilac wrapped her mouth around the silver guns barrel inhaling deeply as her gloved finger moved to its trigger. Countless scars covered her hands. Drugs, and bottles of whiskey lay scattered across her bedroom. It was night. 


 The moon's rays of dull silver light shine through the window, barely giving any light in the dark apartment room. Every light seemed to be off. Everything mute. 


 Slowly the almond skinned girl raised her eyes. To her own surprise, Lilac angerly jerked the pistol out of her mouth and slammed it down yelling and screaming and crying. Her blue green orbs snapped up to the moon. It's brightness seemed to mock Lilac. Mocking her for even caring that her parents were gone.


"Be strong,'' she whispered. "You once broke a rib and didn't cry, so don't start now".  


However a stray tear rolled down her cheek. Lilac sighed and wiped it away with her palm. Her heart ached as she heard someone beating on her apartment room door. Lilac shuffled her way to the door, opening it cautiously to gaze upon a child or little girl standing right in front of her.


"Can I help you?". Lilac asked, cringing at the painful crack it made. Little girl said nothing but "here". She handed Lilac a beautiful primrose flower. It's colors were an amazingly perfect mix of aqua golden and white.


"I heard you yelling. Me and my parents live on the floor above you", the little girl said as she saw Lilac raise a brow at her. "I wanted to give you this. So you aren't as sad anymore".  


Lilac smiled and nodded "Thank you."




Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Rainy Daze

Today I miss my daughters.  It's raining here.  My feet are stiff and there's a dull ache in the top of my back.  I peer out the window at the tiny raindrops that landed on the glass.  Slowly two small beads of rain slide down the glass as I just stare in a daze, remembering my daughter telling me once that in the car on drives to the Carolinas, she would watch two raindrops slide down the glass as we drove and pretend they were racing.   I used to play in the rain with soap with my girls.  Outside we would go, lathered up and dancing in the rain wild and free feeling it pelting against our warm flesh.  We would laugh and sing and stomp in the mud with bare feet, burying our toes in the sandy soil.  It was so much fun.  To me the best part was coming in and peeling off soaking wet garments, usually a slip or simple dress.  We would wrap ourselves in warm soft towels and feel fresh and dry.  My oldest would act like a wild bird....
Read more

My Prayer For Today

Image
God, I am so thankful for all the blessings in my life.  I'm thankful to wake up and feel the breeze brushing my skin and the warm caressing of the sunshine on my face.  I appreciate the opportunities this day has brought me.  I will try my best to not dwell on one hurtful  thing or one physical discomfort, but leave it to you to handle in your own time.   Please God be with my children and loved ones.  Let them feel my heart and know my love for them.  Be with the people that are harder to love, or don't love me.  They are probably hurting Lord, and are the ones that need to be loved the most.  Amen  P.S.  I sure would like a little fiest dog.  A small to medium size mutt.  Something that feels thrown away and needs to be nurtured.  Ebenezer Rouge needs a new friend.
Read more

The Pressed Roses

Somewhere in one of my books, probably in a box, is an old pressed rose.  Maybe two pressed roses.  They are from Damon and I saved them all this time.  I wonder how many people still press a flower in a book for sentimental reasons.  I also have an old scrapbook with a pressed boutonniere, and small corsage from a time of promise and possibilities.  A time when everything was new and the possibilities for the future were endless. I suddenly wish I could see it, and gently rub my finger across the weathered, dry petals.  That velvety smoothness of days long ago now, that seem like yesterday or maybe the day before.   I'm not living in the past.  I'm longing for the happiness those days brought me.  I'm no longer longing for people and things unattainable, but for the joy of that era.  I long for love and happiness.  I long for a peace of just knowing there's someone and something I can count on just being.  That source of ...
Read more