Narrative Prompt

Mrs. Bowles slams the front door, the sound echoing across the bare streets. She starts to walk towards her home with Mrs. Phelps silently crying by her side. She wasn't going to cry. She wanted to remain strong. Mrs. Bowles rests her hands across her stomach. They both quietly walk side-by-side and Mrs. Bowles watches as Mrs. Phelps descends towards her front door. Mrs. Phelps stops at the step and looks over her shoulder at Mrs. Bowles.

"I'm a horrible person." Mrs. Phelps whispers. She looks at her quivering hands just as a slight drizzle falls from the sky above.

"You're fine Mrs. Phelps. Everything is going to be okay." Mrs. Bowles says, her voice remaining monotone. Mrs. Phelps rapidly shakes her head and runs into her house. Mrs. Bowles rolls her eyes and continues walking towards her own home.

"This is why we shouldn't have books, it destroys our sanity." Mrs. Bowles mutters. Small drops of rain fall onto her beautiful, spring dress. She looks off into the distance to see children splashing in the rain puddles. Their parents watching in admiration. Mrs. Bowles  looks down at her heels, "... your children who hate your guts..." repeats over and over in her mind. Maybe Mrs. Phelps was right, she thought. We're horrible people. No it can't be, we follow the rules. But, maybe that was the problem, she thought to herself.

She starts to walk faster along the sidewalk. Bad thoughts running through her mind. She starts to smack her palm against her head as her eyes fill with tears. Her house comes into sight and she starts running towards it. She quickly unlocks the front door and walks inside. She slides down to ground and leans her back up against it. Tears now fall freely down her face. We are all horrible people, she thinks. This was the first time she showed true emotion in years and she hated it. She looked down the hallway and listened to see if her family was home. But she was alone with herself and her miserable thoughts.