Time Heals

Prompt The general premise of this prompt was given to me in a writers workshop. The first paragraph is supposed to come from the POV of a child- reflecting innocence  while the second is more experience. This was a bit difficult for me because I don’t ever remember being innocent…

The voices of anger hover in the background as I find my refuge in the small walk-in closet, my favorite hiding space. My “Little Africa” keeps me invisible from the eye of scrutiny, with heavy winter coats above providing protection – camouflaging me when the Lioness comes. I have reinforced the peeling, cream-colored walls with red, black, and green etchings that tell the story of mighty battles fought against the forces of darkness. I add new entries to my cave drawings almost daily. It’s my job to tell my dad what he has missed when he comes back. Remnants of an old aqua-green carpet engulf the space, soft like the foam of the sea, smelling of moth balls and rubber.I am perched upon a mountain of plush fleece and the crackling sound of vinyl calms my fears. If I can fall asleep here, I’ll be sheltered from the sandstorm. The voices are coming closer but they halt at the door, held off by the bright orange, red, green, and blue Kente Cloth that hangs from golden tracks on the inside of the door. The fabric ends are fraying, no doubt due to the unsuccessful attempts by the mad beast to enter. However, as Grandma Laura promised, it stands up to even the most determined creature. It’s my first line of defense, providing me with enough time to lose myself in a forest of wool. I am safe.

Atop the medium-folding table in the far right corner of my safe haven sat my Fisher Price turntable, with barely enough power to cover up the sounds of anger and madness. Its dingy, off-white body was covered with bright pink nail polish, green marker, and the occasional pen marks. It blended in with the wall, hiding in much the way I hoped the hanging coats hid me. The needle was worn and it struggled vehemently to make it through yet another round of the only 45″ that I owned: The Temptations. My dad’s favorite song reminded me that I had a smile so bright despite having very few occasions to smile. I would watch the vivid blue arm of the player bob up and down reminding me that time does go on.

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