A Confession

I have a confession to make. I didn't write last night. Oh, I wrote at writer's last night, we did 3 exercises out of Take Ten for Writers by Bonnie Neubauer, but I didn't write a prompt last night. When I got home (after 9) I was tired so I sat and watched the skaters with Durwood, finished a little crocheting project, and went to bed. I hardly even read before turning out the light. So, I'm going to give you the production of one of last night's exercises. It's just not about an island. Let's see, which one to choose...

February 25--The sun was just setting when I got lost at the carnival. Mama told me to stay close to Aunt Frannie. "Greta, you keep an eye on her all the time. I don't want you wandering off. Pay attention to what's around you for once." She bonked me on the bottom like a promise of what would happen if I didn't do what she said, and now I was lost. Oh man, I was gonna be in so much trouble. I craned my neck looking around for Aunt Frannie's carrot red and frizzy hair but it was getting too dark and the carnival lights made things look the wrong color. I called out, "Aunt Frannie, where'd you go?" but no one answered. I twirled around and around but all the people were too tall and there were a lot more men around than there had been in the afternoon. I had turned myself around enough that I was a little dizzy and I didn't remember which way I had been walking when Aunt Frannie got lost. My chest felt tight and I could feel tears choke me. I hated to cry but I had to. I sat down on the edge of the Ferris Wheel ramp and just wailed. A man who smelled of motor oil and cigarettes crouched down beside me. "What's the matter, honey? You lost?" I nodded my head but kept my eyes on my hands in my lap. Aunt Frannie was gonna kill me and then Mama would kill me again when we got home. "Come on. Let's see if we can't find your mama and daddy," the man said as he stood up. He put his hand on my arm and raised me up to my feet. He led me down past the Ferris Wheel and into the shadowy aisle between the tents of games. He kept his hand on my back to keep me alongside him. I thought I heard my name and turned to run but, opening my mouth to call out, but he pushed me along, his fingers digging into my shoulder. It was darker now and the sounds of music and people was far away. "I wanna go back," I said, but quietly. I was scared. Mrs. Hooper had talked to us in school about stranger danger and how we shouldn't go off with people we didn't know but she never said what to do if we were lost at a carnival.

Nothing good can come of this. Nothing. I don't want to finish it to find out the end.
--Barbara