My heart's content...

One of the things I love to do is write. Stories, poems, stream of consciousness"... And because I love to write, I belong to 3 different writing "groups". Each one uses "prompts" to get the creative juices flowing. The most recent, Avacado Sisterhood prompt was to write about a first. I thought "A first kiss", but figured that is too personal. Then I thought, "my first pet", but being who I am that would have been Mitchell mouse and there's only so much you can say about a mouse. Then, like a lightning bolt from heaven, this story came back to me like a big hit on the head... So here it is... My first... “I LIED” She dared me. And the necklace called to me. Every time we went into Wassermans, it sparkled at me from the counter. The breeze of customers passing by caused that sparkly necklace to dance. And I wanted it to be mine. I talked about it to her while swinging at recess. The necklace which had my name on it was even calling me during recess. Janet. Sparkly Janet. Again she dared me. Take it she said. They won’t even miss it. Its got YOUR name on it. It should be YOURS. She was right. It should be mine. And so it came to be that she and I rode our bikes to Wassermans 5 and dime, and as I casually walked by she distracted old Mrs. Wasserman. I grabbed MY necklace and confidently walked slowly out of the store, just like we practiced... I was so proud. I had done it. I WAS brave. We recounted our escapade all the way home, the prize displayed around my neck, tapping my throat upon each bump in the sidewalk. Hooting and cheering filled my head. I had passed the test. I was “in”. But that night the hooting and cheering seemed to be more like jearing and accusing. I couldn’t sleep. My blood was like ice in my veins, while my skin was hot and sweaty. The next morning my Mother noticed my necklace. She asked me where I got it. I LIED.
 “I found it on the playground” I boldly said. “How lucky for you, and it even had your name on it” was all she said. She knew. I knew she knew. But she let it go and off to school I went. My stomach hurt all day. A hurt like you want to throw up, but don’t. Tears were close to overflowing. All eyes and whispers seemed to be surrounding me. I knew what I had to do. Confess. And so I did. And my clever Mother never screamed. instead, she asked me how I would feel it someone took something from me, she made me call the Wassermans and confess again. I didn’t end up staying in the “in” group. I wasn’t allowed to go to Wassermans unattended by an adult. And I wasn’t allowed to ride my bike for a month. But my stomach stopped hurting, my smile returned and my Mom and Dad never brought it up again.