Send a Tweet
Most Popular Choices
Share on Facebook 14 Share on Twitter 1 Printer Friendly Page More Sharing
Exclusive to OpEdNews:
Life Arts    H4'ed 4/4/20

Short Story: Dirty old Town

By       (Page 1 of 6 pages) (View How Many People Read This)   1 comment
Author 65632
Follow Me on Twitter     Message Tsara Shelton
Become a Fan
  (18 fans)

Dirty old Town
Dirty old Town
(Image by Tsara Shelton)
  Details   DMCA

April is Sexual Assault Awareness and Prevention Month. There are many ways in which I share my thoughts, beliefs, worries, memories, and hopes regarding this topic. But I find nothing quite shifts my thinking and triggers understanding in me like a story does.

Hence, I am sharing this short story (fiction) with you. This story was inspired by the flash fiction prompt: You give your pet alcohol which causes them to break their one unbreakable rule: Never Talk To Your Owner

Oh, also, here is a link to a video of mine, Molestation: A (Common) Story. The true memory that this fiction story grew out of is discussed in that video. I also offer a few tips and thoughts.

Lastly, not only are many people feeling re-traumatized in this time of COVID-19 due to general anxiety, lack of control, and an uncertain future that will certainly be different, many people are also forced to shelter in place with their abuser. I encourage anyone wanting to know more about, or seeking help from, sexual assault, to contact RAINN(Rape Abuse Incest National Network), Dr. Lynette Louise (The Brain Broad), or another organization, person, or media that you feel comfortable with. By all means, feel free to contact me. I don't know if I can help but I know I care.

_______________

Dirty Old Town

"Dirty old town, dirty old town," I sang drunkenly, motioning to the dirty old town that was my basement bedroom.

I recognized the grey body that sauntered out from her cozy nest in my pile of clothes on the floor (dirty? clean? dunno, who cares?) and watched as she headed to the food and water bowls I had placed on the floor under my window. A window up high that looked onto grass and, often, the naked feet of my family. Shoes were for fancier folk.

"Hey, psst. Misty! Wanna drink?" I splashed a little of my Vodka, stolen from a friend's pantry, into her bowl. "You were there when it happened. I bet you need it like I do."

Next Page  1  |  2  |  3  |  4  |  5  |  6

(Note: You can view every article as one long page if you sign up as an Advocate Member, or higher).

 

Must Read 1   Touching 1   Valuable 1  
Rate It | View Ratings

Tsara Shelton Social Media Pages: Facebook page url on login Profile not filled in       Twitter page url on login Profile not filled in       Linkedin page url on login Profile not filled in       Instagram page url on login Profile not filled in

As the mother of four wonderful teenage boys Tsara spends a lot of time figuring out who she is so she can teach her sons to do the same. She also hears herself holler, "Stop Eating!" an awful lot! As her boys get older, she gets louder while (more...)
 

Go To Commenting
The views expressed herein are the sole responsibility of the author and do not necessarily reflect those of this website or its editors.
Follow Me on Twitter     Writers Guidelines
Contact AuthorContact Author Contact EditorContact Editor Author PageView Authors' Articles
Support OpEdNews

OpEdNews depends upon can't survive without your help.

If you value this article and the work of OpEdNews, please either Donate or Purchase a premium membership.

STAY IN THE KNOW
If you've enjoyed this, sign up for our daily or weekly newsletter to get lots of great progressive content.
Daily Weekly     OpEdNews Newsletter
Name
Email
   (Opens new browser window)
 

Most Popular Articles by this Author:     (View All Most Popular Articles by this Author)

Because My Mom Was Autistic, Our Answer Was Autism

You See, to me, it's all about Value

Being Me

What I Was Thinking When I Raped You

No Means No - And Even More You Need Permission

To View Comments or Join the Conversation: