Morgan, Part Three {Creative Writing}

fiction, writing, young adult fiction, angels, paranormal fictionMorgan, Part Two

Morgan stepped from the tub and rubbed herself dry with the scratchy towel. She got fully dressed in her last clean set of clothes, just in case, and slipped between the sheets. She hoped sleep would come quickly because she was done.

It seemed that while her body could go no more, her mind was wide awake and restless. Now that she was relatively safe, the focus required for survival was absent and her brain was free to wander. Turning over she grabbed the walkman from her pack and slipped the headphones over her ears. She tuned the station to white noise and laid back down.

“Think about tomorrow,” she thought. “Tomorrow I’ll be with Clare.”

Memories of Clare skipped through her mind. It seemed like no matter what happened he was always there. He was the thread that stitched together her life story. She smiled when she remembered the first time she met him, her first day of kindergarten.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Morgan sat in the too big desk staring at the door out of which her mom had just walked and trying her best not to cry. She didn’t want the other kids to think she was a baby. Regardless of what that nasty Jenny Thompson said, she was NOT a baby. Why did the teacher have to sit Jenny right in front of her? Now she would have to look at bobbing blond ponytail for the rest of the year.

A boy slipped into the desk next to hers. Morgan glanced over to see who it was, but it was someone she didn’t know. His hair was close cropped, and his skin was just lighter than chocolate, but the most impressive thing about him was the smile he shined her way. It was the absolute best smile she had ever seen. She felt warmer and safer just looking at him.

“Hi. My name’s Clarence.”

Jenny twirled around, “Clarence? What kind of silly name is that?”

“Well I guess it was the kind I was given,” he responded and then looked at Morgan. “What’s your name?”

“I’m Morgan.”

“She’s got a boy name,” Jenny taunted.

Clarence cocked one eyebrow and focused his attention squarely on the patent leather princess. “Well she looks like a girl to me so I guess that makes it a girl name. Besides, I think it’s cool. At least she doesn’t have a name that sounds like everybody else’s.”

Jenny harrumphed and turned back to face the front of the class.

Clarence glanced Morgan’s way as the teacher called for everyone’s attention and whispered, “you can call me Clare.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Morgan and Clare were inseparable at school. At least they were until she had to move away after her parent’s accident. The day he walked into the foster home was the first time she smiled after her parents died. The day he aged out was the last.

But she would see him again tomorrow, and he would take care of her. He always did.

***

This week the ladies at Write On Edge provided us with a photo of various items and asked us to play “I spy” for our creative writing prompt. I chose thread.

photo credit: saturn ♄ via photopin cc

Comments

  1. Well woven … you presented so much history in so few words. I love the bond that Clare and Morgan had from the start. Visiting from WOE.
    Morgan recently posted…It Always Works in the MoviesMy Profile

  2. Okay, now I can relax. I was worried there was nothing.
    Maggie S. recently posted…Five Random Facts About MeMy Profile

  3. I want to kick Jenny in a bigger place than her ponytail.
    TheKitchenWitch recently posted…Guest Post: Miss D.My Profile

  4. I really like this story line, and I had to laugh that you named the brat Jenny.
    Kmama recently posted…Proud Mommy Moments: A What?!?!My Profile

  5. Aw, like us Jennifer’s don’t have it bad enough! I too thought you did a fantastic job of history building and I was so glad she has someone to look after her (assuming that it works out.)

    The one concrit I did have was that I thought Clarence’s dialogue made him sound much older than Jenny and Morgan, partly because of the cocking of the eyebrow.

    I was left wanting to read more!
    Jennifer recently posted…Industrial BlueMy Profile

    • You have NO idea how happy I am that you caught the whole cocking the eyebrow thing. He IS older than Morgan and Jenny. I feel like I should insert an evil/gleeful laugh at this point. I am now BEAMING because of this comment. Thank you so much.

  6. Glad to brighten your day!
    Jennifer recently posted…Industrial BlueMy Profile

  7. I love his comment about “at least their names aren’t like everyone elses” and of course Jenny would have been SO popular then so it was a perfect insult. It might have come off stronger if Jenny had provided her name…maybe with a touch of superiority?
    Carrie recently posted…Red Writing Hood: The End?My Profile

    • Oh, but Jenny didn’t provide her name at all… See? Huh??? And you are right. This is 70′s time frame so that would have been the most popular name, or a form of it anyway.

      I need to quit providing hints in the comments.

  8. Loved the school scene the best. Nice flow throughout the piece. Someone needed to tug that bobbing blond ponytail of Jenny’s.
    cait recently posted…i spy with my little eyeMy Profile

  9. I like this! It flowed very naturally from her worry to the memories.

    One little thing, I liked this line:

    Now she would have to look at bobbing blond ponytail for the rest of the year.

    but I think it might be beyond the thought process of a kindergartner, the part about the rest of the year. It might read a little younger if you wrote something about Morgan wanting to pull it or something like that.
    angela recently posted…Give the Gift of Books – Read It Then Watch ItMy Profile

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  1. [...] she scrubbed her hands with a nail brush to remove the evidence of what had happened down the hall.Part Three~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~This week the ladies at Write on Edge asked us to incorporate RAIN into our [...]

  2. [...] door swung open, and there he was, with the same smile he wore that first morning of school years ago. Comfort washed over her. She fell into his arms and finally released the tears she had [...]

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