I just wanted something to eat. Instead ma’s walking around banging empty pans. The old factory finally closed and da’s out of work. No work means no money. There is nothing in the larder and the baby is on the way. Then da comes staggering in, drunk, which makes ma even more crazy. They start fighting. She’s shouting, and he’s shouting, and then he hits her. She falls against the table clinging to her belly screaming that he’s killing her baby. Ma’s bleeding and da’s still shaking her up. I beg him to stop but he doesn’t hear me. So I grab the pan and smack him with it. All the noise stopped.
Now I’m cuffed and off to prison.
At least I wont be hungry.
In response to the Friday Fictioneers challenge of 29 September 2017 based on a photo by J. Hardy Carroll.