Bodies in Resistance

Bodies in Resistance

Short Stories

Smoke Signals

Excerpt 1: Memories Haunted Her Dreams.

Sep 06, 2024
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Among the Reeds, 

woman sits on grass during dawn
Photo by Rainier Ridao on Unsplash

She wistfully gazed across the field. Her dark eyes moved quickly, darted from one direction to another and back. 

Nothing but tall reeds, all around, towering over her head. This was her fortress. No one would look for her here. 

A lean 11-year-old girl, she caught her breath as she glanced back toward her mother’s house. Even as the winds whisked through the field, with a whispered brush against the sky, she struggled to find any comfort. 

Beyond the soft scuffling reeds, she could still hear her mother’s screams. It’s as if they followed her, as if they ran behind her only to catch up and pull her ears open, infecting her with echoed vibrations, inside her body. 

Her little brother’s eyes, they followed her like a phantom. Those beady eyes, watching her, in the corner of a dark room, terrified and alone. 

How could he ever understand? 

The sleeping man who hung from the ceiling would never wake up again. They had a name for him once, they would never call him that again. 

And now, her brother —gone. Sent away to another family. Her mother wept every night with the weight of death on her shoulders. 

Cen lowered herself to the ground between the tall grasses. She pulled her knees to her chest and held on. Tears slipped from her eyes and she prayed, “Meré Marie,” she whispered, “I don’t know what to do. Help me be strong like you.” 

She’d heard her own mother say those words with a Rosary in her hand. She thought even without one, maybe, the Mother of Heaven would take pity. 

She sighed and let the sobs escape her chest. After awhile, when she’d had enough, after what felt like hours, she dusted off her sun dress, turned toward the house and made her way back.


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Her frail mother sat at the kitchen table. She stared out the window with a wistful look in her eyes and a cup of coffee in her hand.

Cen leaned in and kissed her mother on the check, wiped a tear under her eye, grabbed her back-pack and slipped out the back door, determined to get to school on time.

She steadied her chin and took a deep breath. She was going to be brave today. 

The Boy

man in blue t-shirt standing on green grass field during daytime
Photo by Devon Daniel on Unsplash

At school, Cen sat on a bench at a nearby playground. She kept to herself and ate apple slices while she watched the other kids. 

On the other side of the playground, a group of bigger boys were laughing at another boy in the center, with holes in his shoes. He stood quietly and looked afraid. His little head hung low and he tried not to show the tears in his eyes.

“Leave him alone, it's not his fault.” She shouted at the boys. She jumped off her perch and walked over.

Surprised, they swung around and stared at her as if to burn her alive with their bullied eyes. She stayed steady and stared back at them, “Go on! Leave him alone.”

A few seconds felt like hours. Finally they backed down. One of them spat in her direction, “Lil’ fucker has to be saved by a gurrrrrl.”

They laughed and walked away from the boy.

He lifted his head. Tears welled up in his eyes. He looked at his lost sister with gratitude. She nodded but said nothing more.

They parted ways to their classrooms. 


Cen woke up, startled by flooding memories that haunted her dreams. She leaned over the bed, grabbed a bucket near the side table and vomited. Her stomach turned. She sat back against a pillow, slipped in and out, she was exhausted and fighting her own mind. Back to sleep.


An older boy, shaggy blond, snarky, a gangly teenager, took a swig from a flask, cackled a laugh to himself as he walked into the building. 

A Kalashnikov was slung across his shoulder, he opened up the back door to his high school.

The hallway narrowed. 

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