Posted: 27 April 2005
Word Count: 325
Polly stared in horror at the carnage before her. She should have listened to her mother, her mother was always right, never wrong, this was her lesson she suspected, always do as mother says. But she hadn’t and now she was going to pay the price. Her soul died a little as she silently watched the terrible red liquid spread over what was once beautiful and perfect. Her beloved Caroline lay face down, her pretty white lace dress now stained scarlet. The others had been luckier but their expressions were blank, not even registering the disaster. The day had begun so well, brimming with possibilities, but Polly had insisted she did it her way or not at all and this devastation was the result of her ignorance.
“It’s not a good idea.” Her mother had advised. “I know from experience, you won’t like the result, trust me.”
She began to pant, clutching at tiny breaths like flyaway bubbles. The sobs started deep in her body, rising to her throat – animalistic whimpers that didn’t suit a young girl. They surged through her and dropped her to her knees. Her own voice grew loud inside her head and the word “No!” shrieked mantra like from her throat. It wasn’t long before her mother was beside her.
She grabbed Polly’s arm with her perfectly manicured hands and swung her round to face her.
“Stop it, stop this noise right now!”
For a moment Polly thought she would beat her, slap some sense into, leave a raw mark across her cheek to remind her of the dreadful error that had led to such tragedy.
But instead she surveyed the damage and shook her head with disappointment.
“I told you Polly didn’t I, I warned you.”
Polly looked down, unable to meet her mother’s gaze.
“Don’t use beetroot on the dollies sandwiches, it’ll make a terrible mess and ruin their clothes, oh well, come on, let’s clean it up.”
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