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Writing Resources from Fifteen Minutes of Fiction


The following is a piece of writing submitted by Scribbler on November 29, 2008

Do you love me? Yes or No

Young Anna sat at the big wooden table making a birthday card for her dad. She hadn't seen him for months, not since Fathers' Day when there was that big row and Mum wouldn't let him take her out. She wondered why that was. And she hadn't seen him for months before that, not since Mum got her new boyfriend really.

Anna loved being at her nanna's place. Everything was so peaceful there, not like at home. There were no babies to mess up her games and scribble on her art work, and no big brothers to tease her. Anna was happy with the card so far.  The picture on the front was done. She'd drawn a big green frog, and given him a nice smiley face. Frogs were her absolutely most favourite animal and green was her favourite colour. With a little help from her nanna she spelled out a birthday greeting inside. Now, what to put on the last page? She drew some love hearts, and then copied an idea from some leftover student worksheets her nanna had given her to play 'schools' with. There was some reading, and then questions with little boxes to tick: true or false. She wrote the question 'Do you love me?' and added boxes 'Yes' and 'No'. She finished the whole thing off with some swirls and spots, and her favourite green glitter. 
 

Her nanna wrote the address on the envelope for her and made a little X in one corner so Anna knew where to put the stamp. Together, they walked to the Post Office and Anna poked the envelope through the slot. She thought of her dad getting his card. 'D'you think Dad will like it?'

Mike opened the envelope from his daughter and grinned at the childish picture on the front. He had met Anna's mother while he was still working, and it really seemed as if things were going to work out for them. He got on well with her two boys and they moved in together when Anna was on the way. Gradually Mike became more difficult to live with. He was anxious and irrational, suspicious of peoples' motives, and angry when medical help was suggested. He spent less and less time at home. Anna's mother sought companionship elsewhere, and Mike found solace in drugs.

While Anna gained two baby sisters and a new dad, Mike Baxter gained a criminal record and spent time in jail. He was comforted by the knowledge of having a daughter and proudly kept photos of her where he could see them in his cell. Now the photos were displayed in his room in the house he shared with Karen and her partner. He didn't see Anna as often as he would have liked, but found it hard to admit this was usually his fault. How many times had he missed the opportunity because he was 'too busy'? And Anna's Mum had stuck to her guns. 'Don't bother turning up here if you're stoned!' She wouldn't even let him take out his own daughter on Father's Day when she saw he'd been shooting up that morning. Didn't he have rights? 

Mike read the message inside the card and saw the question: Do you love me? It came like a slap. Of course I love my daughter! Then the anger: who's been suggesting I don't love Anna? Her mother I suppose, telling her I'm no good. Mike paced up and down, a tightly coiled spring of black rage building inside him. His clenched right fist punched into the palm of his other hand. He could have punched anyone or anything right then. It wouldn't have been the first time he'd put his fist through a wall. Maybe he could go and score, that was one way to wipe out the pain.

Just then he heard the front door and the sound of someone arriving home.
 
'You there, Mike?' called Karen. 'I'm making a cuppa. D'you want one?'
 
He stopped pacing and sat on the bed, clenching and unclenching his fists, his breathing heavy and fast. He became aware of Karen standing at the open door.
 
'What's wrong?' she asked. The words didn't come, but Mike indicated the card. 'But it's a lovely card, what's the matter?'
 
'She had to ask if I love her,' he said and with that he broke into deep sobs. Karen put her arm round his heaving shoulders as the tension cried itself out.
 
Over their cup of tea Mike decided to phone to arrange a time to visit Anna. He wouldn't be too busy, and he wouldn't be too stoned. He wouldn't let anger about the new boyfriend and the jealousy get in the way; but most of all he wouldn't disappoint his daughter.

Anna sat at her Nanna's big wooden table drawing a picture. There was a daddy and a little girl and a big yellow smiley sun. 'I'm going to see Dad every two weeks,' she said. 'He promised he would come.'
 
And he did.



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