What They Don't Know (351 words)

“What They Don’t Know”



At the Playground

“Stop!” his dad yells.

Daniel doesn’t notice or doesn’t want to notice. He runs after the bouncing ball.

It slows in the grass and Daniel tiptoes to catch it unaware.

The ball rolls to the curb and bounces into the street.

“Daniel!” His dad is running now with the kids chasing after him, wide-eyed.

Daniel doesn’t see the truck coming, but he hears the horn.

He skids in the gravel and hits the opposite sidewalk.

The truck driver yells at the father, but he only shrugs.

Daniel rises with a bloody knee and the ball in his hands.

The kids cheer.



At the Lake



She steps back from the dock. “Mom said no,” she says.

Her brother rolls his eyes. “Mom’s a worrywart. We have to learn how to swim.”

“Can’t we take lessons?”

He puts his foot in. The water’s not that bad, but he can’t see the bottom.

“Are you sure about this?”

He ignores her and jumps off the dock, plummeting to the muddy bottom.

He tries to propel his arms up, but his legs are tangled in the weeds.

Bubbles pop out of his mouth.

Fingers wriggle through the mud. He grabs it and breaks the surface.

She taps her foot while he catches his breath. She was right, he was wrong. Like always.

“Don’t tell mom,” he gasps.



At the In Between

She reapplies her lipstick with a small mirror in her purse and twists her curls around her finger.

He walks back in with a smirk. She tucks the makeup away before he sees and she smiles.

The sheets twist around her body, but her breasts are open to his examination just like he wants. He lays his body on top of hers and grabs her wrists. He pushes them above her head.

The snow falls outside the window in the moonlight. She remembers when she would run outside and catch snowflakes on her tongue. Her parents would bring her in for soup afterwards.

She only winces once when he presses on the burn left from the curling iron that morning.