Creative Writing Short Stories

I was busy cleaning the dirty clothes and my daughter came springing around me as she desired to play with me. She was just a year old. She loves to be with me which in no doubt makes me adore her to infinity.

Let’s move ahead with the story I was narrating to you. She was jumping and sliding in her play and my hands were involved in brown water and shabby clothes. My playful girl dipped her hands in the tub of water and soaked all her clothes. I had to change her clothes as I was afraid that she won’t become the victim of high temperature. This scene repeated thrice.

I was unable to carry my task further, so I decided to shut the door. The little girl banged the wooden door and bewailed in pain. I assumed that she carried the pain of being separated from her mother but after 5-7 minutes I got the real picture after unbolting the door that my little was crying harsh because her minutest finger got stuck in the door. I repented at my negligence.

Blood was shedding at a faster speed than her tears. I tried inserting my finger while I closed the door. It hurts. It gave me an immense pain. If such a well built grown up person can feel this much pain in fraction of seconds, then what about my poor daughter?

I left all my chores and sat sobbing with her. I couldn’t keep her away from my chest as I felt guilty about my laxity. My small princess’ finger was continuously hurting for such a long period and I couldn’t do anything about it. I wish I could take that pain from her.

I am sorry my little girl. I am guilty for my carelessness. Wish, I could suffer the aches you were suffering.

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