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I wrote this bit(not sure what to call it) to lighten the mood after I wrote a bunch of darker poetry (and to keep the teacher from calling in the school therapist) Apparently he loved it and laughed.



The knife was there, on the table. All I had to do was grab it. Good, he was turning away. This was it, the final match. He's talking, I knew, but I couldn't hear him. There had been so many battles before, and each time it came to this. Who has the knife? Who gets to feel the power and the control? Who gets to lift it and watch it glint in the light? Now! I lunged for the knife. It was there, my fingers brushed it. Pain exploded in my side as I felt his fist connect with my ribs. I was falling. The room spun slightly but I was more concerned with the knife. He picked it up and walked towards me. His breath was hot on my cheek. "I won," he said. He took a step and raised the knife. I inhaled sharply as he plunged the knife downwards, burying it to the hilt. He pulled it towards himself, slicing as it went. He yanked it out and wiped it clean on the cloth. "I win," he repeated. He slamed it in again and riped it sharply out. Putting the knife down, he kneeled beside me. He laughed as he pulled me up off the floor. "I always win," he said, "you should know that by now." I sat and sulked on the couch. "Just think of it this way," he said amiably, "I cut, so you get the first piece of cake." I accepted the cake, smiling, but my mind was already thinking ahead. There would be a next time, I decided, and I would win.







This story came about from quite a few different life experiences conglomerated and added to liberally with imagination. When I was a kid, in order to share properly me and my sis had to follow the rule that 1 person cut, the other picked. Growing up with a boy for a best friend, we saw nothing against pushing each other out of the tree during a race to the top. And finally, I considered how when you're younger, these simple little things can take on a life of their own and become a monumental battle.