This is my attempt at the weekend free write.

The weekend write is a little different, it has three parts that serve as a start, middle and conclusion.

Technically it is a

First sentence

Interference and

Dramatic twist

I'm not sure that my contribution is quite up to the claim of dramatic twist just yet, but that second sentence definitely felt like an interference. I am enjoying the challenge, but for me, Start, finish and post, is my goal at the moment.

I have identified my sections sentences initalics.

If you are keen to have a go,

STOP NOW AND CLICK THIS LINK TO START AND AVOID THE SPOILER / CHEATING REVEAL OF THE SUBSEQUENT SENTENCES.

Be sure to click back and check out my post though and the other free-writes. I always find the different varied ways people interpret a prompts intriguing.

Otherwise, please proceed with reading my humble offering. I am quite new to writing. I have tried my hand at a spot of poetry here on Steemit, and am currently working my way through some reading of great November mad novels.

I am a bit late to the 50,000 word party, but that is the beauty of the blockchain, it is all there waiting for me.
I have read @felt.buzz, @improv and am now reading @carolkean. All amazing writers who have inspired me to have a go at writing too.

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Mother was dead. I sat up startled and leaned against the pine headboard of our bed.

As I hung up the phone I could hardly make out Charlie's questioning voice behind the whooshing in my head.

My long endured tinnitus seemed to have shot up an octave and a decibel, and had combined with the pounding of my pulse in my ears.

My head began to swim. Charlie's face in front of me wavered with every beat, as though the image along with the entire scenario were tethered to one of those old projector screens they would tether in the class room at school to watch a boring movie. I was observing it all like a bad movie, just like in the lucid dreams I have where I am back at school and failing everything.

The colours were too bright, the colours on the curtain behind him swirled brighter, his eyes through the haze too blue, and although the window was closed the curtain too swayed with each beat of my heart. Everything is slow and I can't move.

That's it, this is just a terrible dream, yes this is the part when I realise it's a dream, I'll be in school in a minute, or a hideous public toilet with no doors. This is the part when even in a dream sequence I become questioning and sensible and fall from the sky into my bed because I realise I'm dreaming, because I remember now that I can't fly.

Come on fly then, fly away fly away! Fly you fucking idiot, fly so you can fall back to reality, and wake the fuck up and call your damn mother. Fly! She can't be dead, she isn't. Wake the fuck up! We just got her back this is not happening.

However, after living with Steve for three years, she wasn't sure, she didn't know who she was for a good while. He had stripped her of herself, her identity, her worth. We almost lost her to that bastard, but we didn't, she got away and now she is okay, she is safe.

She, we, had worked so hard to restore her life, her purpose, to find that light behind her eyes again, that spark that lit the room with near madness. She had a spirit that is not extinguished so easily. Had! No not had, has, she has spirit, she is fine.

She was just here she was happy, she held me, she told me she was happy now, told me she loved me and always would. She looked right into my eyes, holding that moment for an eternity it seemed. Then she left with less weight on her shoulders than she had had in years, no, she was happy, I saw her happy.

It didn't work, I didn't fly away this time, I didn't materialise back in a class room, and I didn't will my mother back into being by falling out of the sky, or by furnishing her an apartment with matching ikea flat packs and a pair of toy poodles.

She had tried to go on, to pick up the pieces of herself after he shattered her life along with her jaw. She went through the motions did her best to make it real, make it true.

I should have known when she left the damn dogs here for babysitting. When has she ever needed her dogs watched while she went shopping?

I don't know how much time had passed or what I had even said to Charlie, but I find myself in his arms, rocking, and what ever I have said, he seems to have pieced together the conversation I had with my sister.

"A terrible accident, I'm so sorry honey, it's okay, it's okay."

"No it wasn't an accident and it's not okay, but we can make it okay can't we? How do we make it okay? I should call some people, we need to get in touch with some people, make arrangements, get things sorted. I need to get things in order, then they will be okay. There are thing that need to be done, organising I mean, things to organise! That's what you do isn't it, in these situations? Make arrangements, yes let's do that.
Do you still have Steve's number?"

"Steve? Do you really want to call Steve? Now? Are you sure you want to call him at all? Perhaps wait until..."

"Yes I need to find fucking Steve, I need to make this okay, I need to make arrangements."

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Thanks for stopping by, @girlbeforemirror.