I know this daily prompt asked for a work of nonfiction, but fiction was inspired.
She walked to the fence separating innocence and experience. Her shoulders fell. She reached out to the chain-link barrier and grabbed hold. Her back slouched. Her forehead fell forward to meet metal. A smiled nearly surfaced. She sighed deeply. Man, what a life, being one of those kids, she said to the fence. Horns honked as lights turned green. Go already, came out from one open truck window. Parents arrived to pick up their morning-session kindergarteners: Sweetie, hello! Mommy missed you, said a mother to her daughter. Lunchers whizzed into parking spots. Glad you could make it, greeted a businessman to his client. Outdoor tables filled. Welcome to Town Grill. I’ll be your server. What can I get you to drink? asked a uniformed server. Glasses clinked against glasses. Forks scraped faux-china plates. Registers rang, changed dropped. The world was silent to her.
The limitless dreams of childhood held her, made her; crushed her when they were crushed.
She played catch with her younger brother in their backyard. Their lab ran back and forth, following the ball, jumping to catch it, and running to the back of the yard before bringing it back. Don’t throw it so hard, she demanded. Don’t be such a girl, her brother commanded. Play nice or go to your rooms, Dad screamed. Dad had a headache, again. The dog hair wasn’t helping. The children’s bickering intensified the pain. Sorry, they shouted in unison. You will be, Dad remarked. Ball and gloves fell to the ground, in Dad’s way, not put away. He poured a drink. She and her brother disappeared down the street on their bikes.