Amid the Jagged Shadows

"Amid the jagged shadows of mossy leafless boughs; " Samuel Taylor Coleridge A little soul. A colorful life. A cliched dream. An old, worn-out drawing. “Is she alright? Is there anything to worry about?” A pale face asked. This is the mother. “What happened exactly?” I asked her. “Her father was angry as she was late at the breakfast table. He started on her, but before long, She simply lost consciousness.” She was breathing heavily. The red wounds on the hand. Knife marks. Attempts of self -injury. Lots and lots of lives. Lots and lots of stories. “What happened exactly?” I asked, pausing for a moment. The couple had a fight. The wife tried to harm herself. Nothing serious, but attempted self-injury. “Please tell me a compliment, Tell me something good What do you see in me, baba?” I asked him softly. The little one looked at me, scrutinizing … “You have a beautiful face!” He assured. I need to write a story from scratch again. I saw the girl who lost her sense I wish I knew the father also. He was holding the girl in his lap. Guilt, agitation, and frustration were written on the face. A face obscured in those shadows. A hazy silhouette. A face. A colorful life. A cliched dream. An old, worn-out drawing. 11-23-2019 Writing Challenge 3, November - Any Form Sponsor, Dear Heart - Wisshkobi Ode