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Ripped from within her.
Monica L Sprague
46 year old wife and mother who is trying to put her past behind her.
|AUTHOR'S OTHER TITLES (13)
Alien Within (Poetry) What comes with self examination. [15 words]
Angel Of Death (Non-Fiction) A corrupted childhood contaminates the present-writing purges, but just slightly...*Caution, could be considered graphic* [706 words] [Horror]
Dark Anger (Short Stories) A follow up, sort of, to Darkest Fairytale, sort of. [815 words]
Darkest Fairytale (Short Stories) A story written out of the depths of confusion so it's a bit confusing to follow. *Could be considered graphic* [1,571 words] [Drama]
Ending (Poetry) Just a few questions I asked once upon a time ago... [21 words]
Escaping Reality (Short Stories) This is an account of a real event that has a fictional ending...the ending that I know she wanted. [981 words]
God's Retribution (Short Stories) A follow on story written in early January. God is displeased and one child suffers the consequence. [425 words] [Spiritual]
Remember...Do You Remember? (Genres) A long prose that asks tough personal questions which require deep internal self-examination to find the answers...if answers can be found. [271 words] [Mind]
Seeking God (Short Stories) This story was written in December when a vision of the god from my childhood came crashing into my present. [767 words] [Spiritual]
Tempest: Calming The Storm (Short Stories) Inner turmoil ... can it be calmed? *Caution, could be graphic* [771 words]
The Frustrating Switch (Short Stories) What happens when stress takes me beyond the breaking point? This is glimpse into my world... [667 words] [Psychology]
Washed In The Blood (Short Stories) During a particularly depressing time and trying to find a way to cleanse myself of shame...well this story came to be. *Caution, could be graphic.* [631 words]
When I Was Eight (Genres) A long three part prose about a dark desert night when a child was scared into submission. [501 words]
Monica L Sprague
the thunder crashed as the lightening split the midnight sky. the cold surface of the table made her heart shiver. she was confused, afraid, she was spent. stiff and raw, the ties rubbed to an aching burn. fighting was wasted-calmly now she waited, for what she hadn’t a clue.
he grabbed each knee and pulled up and apart, exposed, gaping and vulnerable, embarrassed by her nakedness, she tearfully whispered “why?” concentration clouded the witch’s face as she grappled the long knitting needles; the greater devil looked on with evil intent.
sharp pain stabbed through her vagina and deeper, gone almost instantly as she clenched her jaw as tight as she could, fists clenched as tight as she could near her head, hair wrapped firmly around each finger. she watched the horror unfold. orders were barked at her-“be still!” “don’t squirm.” “lie quietly.” “quit your moving!” and she did, lie as still and quiet as she could while the long needle poked and prodded deep within her, as if searching with orders to seek and destroy.
the greater devil commanded, the witch obeyed-the knitting needles drove into her with such furious force that she almost flinched-almost. she could feel the movement of the giant tool, every twist and every turn as it sought its goal. she lay there, tears streaming down her face, pooling onto the table below her.
the needles were withdrawn and a large crochet hook was inserted into her vagina, deep it thrust-a turn and a twist, she thought she felt a tearing deep inside her abdomen. when the hook was removed she saw blood and what she thought to be tissue; vaginal or other? she did not know. her head was swimming, her mind whirled-what was it that she had done so wrong; this wrong?
a second hook, long but not as large, was hastily inserted-deeply driven. she buckled from a stab of pain deep within her abdomen. as quickly as the hook was inserted, it was just a quickly removed. upon the tip of the hook, barely caught in the crook of the hook, was … something; she didn’t know exactly what it was. she imagined that it was a piece of her vaginal wall or worse. fear swallowed her as the witch pulled the crochet hook from within her.
*section added for dramatic effect*
the littlest hook inserted finally barely moved. the hook went deep within her womb, up into her uterus. with the slightest of twists, the little hook caught upon its prey and carried out upon the crook the gruesome target. as it withdrew, slowly dragging its catch, she saw it had impaled into the placental sac of a small fetus.
*end of dramatic effect*
she closed her eyes tight and she screamed and not even the greater devil could squelch such a scream. his hand clasped over her mouth and her nose and yet she screamed terrifyingly, unbidden until at last she passed out from lack of air.
she awoke in her bed the next day, pain gripped her momentarily. she closed her eyes tight and sent the pain deep within, far away from her. she winced slightly as she tried to rise. she was hot and damp; her bedding was bloodied as were her clothing. she had just sat up when the witch rose and stood beside her. “why”, she asked the witch, seeing the greater devil walk up behind the witch, “why did you destroy him?” “because”, said the greater devil, “because god was a fool to have chosen you.” he sneered and a slight snicker escaped his throat. the witch looked up at him and then back down to the bed. “you?…the chosen? you carry the son of god?” she laughed as well. “he chose poorly, you are unfit…you are unworthy to carry the son of god.” she looked up at them blankly, the understanding of their words not totally forming in her still foggy brain. “here,” said the witch, handing her a small white pill. “this will help some.” she swallowed the pill and lay back down upon her pillow. but i was chosen by god, she thought, he thought i was worthy to bear his son. why? why was he so cruelly taken?
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© 1998 Monica L Sprague
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