A Photo & Fossil

by Ennis Welbourne

Content warnings: implied peadophilic abuse, child neglect, dissociation.

A Photo

Play audio recording while you read: press the play button or click on the title to open a new tab in SoundCloud

[Image Description: Text starts on the top left side of the page and slowly veers down to the right. The stanza that starts ‘thin skin’ and ends with ‘on paper’ is contained within a rectangular box.] A Photo– Daddy dearest sees me, baggy eyed, scraggly haired. I have a face always breaking to cry. Tearing down my– Over his– After the shower, he pulls back the misted pane of glass. Pats me down with a scratchy hotel towel, I totter through the steam Escaping to the next room. I curl up on the bed. Daddy takes out his camera, He kneels in his black jeans. I know he’d taking my photo So I present my face, serene To be captured: (thin skin, blue rising veins damp sticking hair pink peaks on my chest dark giddy blushing lips bruises like charcoal on paper) I touch the screen My face like glass Should I remember this?

Fossil

Play audio recording while you read:

[Image Description: A dark oval fills the page which gets progressively lighter, as if carved, until we reach inner section which has the text center aligned.] brain buzzing and hot I squeeze between the mats till I’m in total darkness the plastic is cold and distracts me from my hungry stomach I lift my arms, pretend I’m pressed in amber like a dragonfly two hours later when it’s dark we pack into the car I’m shaken from my fossilised state by the smell of the petrol can and cat piss at home I’m sent upstairs to do my homework I pace around my bedroom scratching my arms tummy twisting I stop now and again and listen for signs of dinner cooking until daddy calls out my name and I rush down stairs, “Where’s Your Homework?” he says I go rigid, my bookbag sits on the floor by the front door and he sees it my mind wipes blank as he rages and all I am is a trembling body I lie on the floor in my bedroom sent to bed without dinner I listen to them eat it hurts to smell the chicken and gravy so I pretend I’m dust trapped beneath the floor boards

About the author

headshot of Ennis Welbourne, a white person wearing glasses and lipstick with a black line rose tattooed on the chest

Ennis Welbourne (they/them) is a marginalised writer drawn to experimental storytelling and writing for recovery. They are currently working on an illustrated memoir, Problem Behaviour, and a speculative fiction novel, Break Tender. Ennis runs peer-to-peer online spaces under the banner Access Narrative for those who are neurodivergent, disabled, poor and who have experienced trauma. You can connect with Ennis via their Substack newsletter or Instagram.

Individual authors retain copyright over their own works.