I have yet to share any of my writing with you lovely people, and that is about to change now. This is not a large piece by any means – in fact – it’s just a small flash fiction, but I’m excited to share it with everyone!  I’ve written this piece for the Write – Edit – Publish Blog Hop, this website is a fantastic resource for writers, and the blog hop they host is such fun, and good practice! Visit the site to see other entries that have been submitted to this months challenge – Unraveled Yarn!

So without further ado, you may scroll below to read my piece. 🙂



I thought it was a nice thing I was doing, who doesn’t love an unexpected gift? I knew my father had an important meeting tomorrow morning so I grabbed all my craft supplies, and one of his ties from the laundry basket, then I set to work. As a five year-old girl I thought all my fathers ties were incredibly boring – there was no glitter! As I glued the last gem onto the tie I could hear the shower turn off in the bathroom that was next to my room, so I quickly put my finished product into a gift bag I had stole from the basement. I ran up to my door, and peaked around the corner – bouncing with anticipation. As the bathroom door opened, the familiar smell of my father’s body wash poured into the hallway, “Dad! I made something special for your meeting! Come and see!” He smiled and followed me into my bedroom, the gift bag sat on my table surrounded by glitter, scissors, yarn, and stickers. His back was turned away from me as he opened the bag up, so I was unable to see his reaction. I rocked back and forth on the balls of my feet, waiting for my hug of appreciation.

I have no memories of what happened immediately after that, the next thing I remember is laying on the ground, my body aching. I opened my swollen eyes and sitting in front of me was my ball of yarn, it was almost completely unraveled. I reached out and grabbed the yarn, squeezing it into my chest like it was my savior. I didn’t know what I had done wrong, but I knew I would never make a craft ever again. I still have that ball of yarn twenty years later, I keep it in the drawer beside my bed to remind me that I am never safe. Never safe.