A short work of quasi-fiction
At the first beep of the alarm, Olivia’s arm shot out from beneath the pile of scratchy dollar-store blankets and hit the off button before the shrill sound could disturb the rest of the household. For a moment she rested her face against the hard, bare mattress and listened to the winter wind whistling through the cracks in the window. As she reached for the coat she kept by the bed, she wondered if she could get Mr. Harris at the hardware store to give her another roll of duct tape. Maybe if she could seal the cracks a little better, the room would stay a bit warmer.
She crept quietly past her half-siblings asleep on their own hard mattresses on the floor. Careful to avoid the creaky spot in front of her mother and step-father’s room, she made it to the living room without waking any of her family. She sighed as she looked at the pile of laundry, then carefully settled herself on the floor, doing her best to put as little pressure as possible on the bloody welts left by the lashes she received the night before. Her small body was momentarily flooded with rage at the injustice of the beating. It wasn’t her fault the laundry had not been finished the night before. The clothes dried more slowly when it was cold. It was science!
She quickly silenced the angry voice in her head. She knew the blows weren’t really because of the still-wet clothes. They were for the incredible disrespect she had shown when she suggested that perhaps if Daddy drank less beer they could afford a clothes dryer. She knew Daddy worked hard to support them all. It wasn’t his fault the shoe factory did not pay a fair wage to a loyal and hard working man.
Her jaw throbbed briefly with the memory of the blow she had received the night she offered to teach him how to read so he could get a better job. Mama had explained later that Daddy couldn’t learn how to read, and it hurt him badly when Olivia reminded him of that.
Olivia knew words came more easily to her than to others. That’s why she took special English classes with Miss Judy instead of with the rest of her fifth grade class. But the idea of simply not being capable of reading at all confused and mystified her.
Olivia was just folding the last pair of pants when five-year-old Louisa stumbled into the room, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.
“Is there school today?” Louisa asked.
“Sure is.” Said Olivia. Can you go wake Jack very quietly and tell him to come get dressed, please?”
Louisa looked excited. “When there’s school we get breakfast and lunch. And it’s warm there.”
“Both of those things are true,” Olivia agreed, “but to get them we have to get dressed and make it to the bus stop on time.”
“Okay,” Louisa said, her eyes shining with anticipation of the meal to come. “But we can’t wake Daddy,” she whispered as she turned to fetch her six-year-old brother from his bed.
“No,” Olivia whispered back, “definitely don’t wake Daddy.”
Half an hour later, Olivia quietly shuffled the children out the front door. Their clothes were uncoordinated, and some pieces were too small, but their hair was combed and their teeth were brushed and they looked as presentable as she was capable of getting them without a fight that would disturb their sleeping parents. Olivia helped Louisa and Jack cross the street to the bus stop, then checked to see that their nosey neighbor wasn’t seated at the window yet, spying on everyone in the neighborhood.
“Stay right here, and don’t move at all for any reason,” she admonished the smaller children. “I have to go check on something.”
Quickly she crossed back to their side of the street and slunk around the side of the house to the backyard. There, behind the half-dead willow tree, she had planted the precious hellbore seeds her beloved Miss Judy had given her. It had been hard work keeping Daddy from finding her beloved plants, but she had tended them carefully and the plants were finally showing buds.
As she quietly stepped behind the tree, she remembered the words Miss Judy had said as she pressed the seed packet into her hand. “Some flowers bloom brightest in the cold and the dark, my dear. Always remember that, no matter how bad things get.”
As Olivia rounded the tree, her face split into a grin that would stay with her the entire day. The flowers had blossomed, their colorful petals shining bright against the bleak winter morning. For one beautiful moment, Olivia knew without a doubt that her life would turn out okay.

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