7 Days

7 days
I’m so excited that this novel is finally finished! After years of working on this particular book and having these characters in my head and them waiting for me to patiently tell their story, I’ve finally given them what they wanted (noisy bitches).
 
This book has been a difficult one to write and I wanted it to tell the reality of the pain and scars that domestic violence leaves behind. At times, it’s not pretty to read, but I’ve tried to honestly relate the horrors of abuse.
 
Now onto the long process of editing and then more editing in order to send it away to my publisher! I’m hoping for a release date of early Spring and hope that some of you will be willing to take a chance on it. 
 
****
Because monsters are real…..
They’re still there.
They’ll wait forever.
They know she thinks of them.
They call her name.
 
The monsters hide behind the thin door.
Peeking through the cracks.
The cracks are small.
But the monsters know how easily they splinter.
 
They wait. They are patient.
They know she has her whole life.
They constantly jiggle the knob.
 
****
 
Kate Morgan waits for her mother to return, knowing someday she will. The thought of it fills her with dread and anticipation. She hates and loves her mother, Meg Madison, in equal measures.
 
Kate has been raised by a man who is the only father she has ever known and by a grandmother who will do anything to protect her granddaughter from the evil that she’s fought against her entire life.
 
When Meg finally does return, she has to face her demons and reveal the truth of her family’s history in order to bring her daughter back to her. It only takes seven days to unravel the threads that held their family together.
 
****
*This book is dedicated to the survivors of domestic violence and abuse and to those whose lives were lost in the battles that were waged within their homes. And for mom…the strongest, bravest woman I have ever known.
Other books by Debra Colby:
i heard you amazon
moms eye view
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When a True Friend is Needed

when a true friend

From my poetry notebook…This Ain’t Shakespeare.

She’s beautiful, popular and proud.

Her friends are kids, from just the right crowd.

 

Look how she laughs, talks and smiles.

Her admirers swarm, as they walk the school tiles.

 

She looks in the mirror and winks at the image.

Knowing her beauty will win, in any boyfriend scrimmage.

 

Her clothing is perfect, ensuring that name brand labels appear.

Then tossing them carelessly, when there’s a rip or a tear.

 

I dare to walk up to her and say, “hello.”

My knees are shaky, trembling out of control.

 

She looks at me with scorn and contempt.

I feel as though I’ve fallen, and there’s no safety net.

 

Eyebrow arched, her words like a sword.

I’m not the kind of friend that she’s looking for.

 

Her laughter rings true, behind my back.

I hide in my locker to stop the tears in their tracks.

 

But at the end of the day, once her crowd is all gone.

She sits silent and lonely on the bus ride towards home.

 

Her slender shoulders sag, her head hangs down.

The bus stops at her house, her face wears a frown.

 

Framed in the doorway is a well-dressed man.

An angry expression on his face, a drink in his hand.

 

She pauses, walking slowly to the house.

Visibly shrinking into her expensive new blouse.

 

His loud, angry voice carries to the bus.

She cringes and cowers, afraid of his touch.

 

I flinch when I see his hand connect with her face.

A flaw upon her beauty that even make-up can’t erase.

 

I realize I was wrong about the person I thought she was.

How she hides behind an image because of circumstance and cause.

 

How she likely needs a friend who’ll hold her hand as she cries.

A friend who’ll look past her persona and pride.

 

A friend who’ll see the terrified child within.

Screaming to move away from those hidden sins.

 

I may not be the friend that she’s looking for.

But I can be the friend that she needs, so much more.

 

A Vision of Peace

From my poetry notebook…This Ain’t Shakespeare.

vision of peace

My brother comes to me in a dream

And speaks to my heart

 

The silence penetrates the stillness

A mist-like fog swallows my body.

 

My arms outstretched

But I touch nothing

 

A feathery lightness grazes my shoulder

Then is gone.

 

A quiet whisper and a playful breeze

Gently lifts my hair

But I see nothing.

 

A soft caress trails across my arm

Giving me the sense of something known

But forgotten.

 

A feeling of trust overwhelms

A shadowy face appears

 

A well-loved smile shines

Through the haze.

 

The voice

Tells me my worries

Can be put aside

 

His soul is at peace.

His diseased body

Now left behind

 

His mind is at ease

 

My worries fade away

My brother is finally free.

Final Reflection

From my poetry notebook….This Ain’t Shakespeare.

final reflection

The darkened window, lit only from behind.

Shows a sharp-angled face, etched with anguish-filled lines.

 

As she stares, long suffocated tears begin to flow.

A life built on trust has been crushed in a single, selfish blow.

 

How did she let this happen? Allow her family to be snatched away?

Now all is gone. Even hope that fate would return them one day.

 

She stands, looking unseeingly at the face reflected back.

Her mind sees a young woman whose life was on the right track.

 

The man of her dreams had swept her off her feet.

Promising to love, honor and cherish til’ death they do meet.

 

A child was born, a sweet little boy.

Endless smiles and bliss at this wonderful joy.

 

A home was provided through a business that soared.

A husband who loved her, a child she adored.

 

Another arrived, from out of the blue.

Claiming friendship that was accepted as true.

 

Manipulating and coveting what belonged to another.

That the bond being built was simply a cover.

 

The true motivation was meant to seduce.

Not caring that lives would be shattered, and true love reduced.

 

The other used emotions to bait its catch.

Listening and offering kindness through a rough patch.

 

The catch had been easily tricked by the bait.

More stroking of an ego made it worth the wait.

 

Reeled and then eaten by a prey too fierce.

Unconcerned how the wounds would hurt and pierce.

 

Guilt overcomes, and a confession needs to be made.

Begging forgiveness, making promises, in order to stay.

 

Eyes blink and she sees once again.

The reflection of a woman cast aside for her sins.

Portrait of Lies

From my poetry notebook…This Ain’t Shakespeare.

portrait of lies

Your eyes see a picture of perfection

But buried beneath the beautiful package

Is something outside the truth

 

Secrets, lies and deception

All tumble over one another

In a wildly beating heart

 

A heart panicked

At the thought of discovery

And the inevitable destination

Of a loss of a life

Carefully crafted

 

A smile tricked out at the corners

Speaks of a lover kept secret

 

Eyes gazing into a memory of

Citrusy rooms and paisley bedspreads

Where two bodies writhe in desperate abandon

 

Chasing away lost hopes and daily drudgery

Looking to find a past youth

And forgotten excitement

 

But ends up with guilt weighing heavily

As true love smiles tenderly

From a portrait of perfection

 

Temptation

From my poetry notebook…This Ain’t Shakespeare.

temptation

https://dorinacostras.com/paintings/

Long lashes lowered.

Full lips over a knowing smile.

Flowing tresses that tease with their softness.

Curves that entice with her every move.

Open and willing, flaunting her needs.

Encouraging, suggesting, ignoring his ring.

****

No one will miss it.

It’s just a few dollars.

They have so much.

She has so little.

The children need shoes.

There’s no food in the cupboards and the rent is due.

So easy to slip the money,

From the cash drawer into her pocket.

****

The doctor says no.

Anymore and he’ll die.

But the need is so strong.

The struggle so fierce.

The addiction controls his every move.

****

Temptation is thrown at us from everywhere.

How we respond to it is our choice.

The Monster Under the Bed

Excerpt from my book…Mom’s Eye View.

monster under the bed

When I was a little girl my biggest fear was the “Monster Under the Bed.” Others may have had the “Monster in the Closet,” but either way the monster was there and definitely something to be feared.

My monster lived under the bed only at night, during the day it was never there. Not when I played hide and seek with my siblings or even when I had to retrieve a toy from under the bed. It only made its presence known in the dark of the night. My imagination conjured up a monster with scales, red, glowing eyes, a mouthful of sharp, jagged teeth and a body that slithered back and forth beneath my bed, with only the box spring and mattress keeping me safe from it.

My sister and I shared the same bed and would scare one another with our silly monster stories. When we had finally worked ourselves up into a whispered state of panic we would huddle in the center of the bed, “our safe place,” and stay as far away from the edges as we possibly could. We wholeheartedly believed that if we got too close to the edge the monster would be able to reach up and grab us with its long, cutting talons; ripping us to shreds in a matter of seconds.

When we got too scared we’d comfort one another and provide each other with enough strength to get us through the night.  Upon hearing actual scurrying noises in the walls or in the ceiling, as we did most nights, we never doubted that the noises were the monster duplicating itself over and over in order to surround us and then more easily capture us and turn us into an evening meal.

We never stopped to consider that we lived in old apartment buildings that were notorious for having rat and mice infestations. To us, it was the monster and nothing else.

We’d eventually fall asleep, sticking close to one another, providing one another with comfort and support when our fears were outweighing our common sense.

My sister and I have always been this way though, we stick together and along with my other two sisters, we all can be a formidable force. As we’ve all gotten older and more independent though, we realize we don’t always have to fight each other’s monsters. But it sure is nice knowing that you’ve got someone to cover your back when the monsters decide to sneak up on you.