"This image represents punching holes and rage, the desperation and feelings of ‘I can’t take this anymore’. The open door just about still hanging on its hinges represents the acceptance of opening up to hope for the future."
Amanda Young is a Recent graduate BA Art/Design currently studying MA Illustration. Instagram: @amandayoungart
Spinning Fiction by Marie-Louise McGuinness CW:Abuse
The air was heavy with anger and bitter, raised voices that scratched at my ears. I tried to tune them out, my teeth clenching, grinding to powdered chalk. I ran to my red plastic bag, the one dotted with garish yellow flowers I was gifted as a baby. This bag was the one constant in my life. It was my haven and my friend. I grabbed the snow-white polyester rope that served as both handle and clasp, and began to spin. The weight of the thick rope cut deliciously into my palms, and, with increasing speed, the red and yellow and light and dark mingled together in one muddy soup. Deafened by my buzzing blood, and cocooned in this cacophony of light and sound, I was happy and protected. But, as always, they needed me to adjudicate and I was dragged from my bag to be judge and jury in the kitchen. How did I choose whose side to take? I was only eight, yet the expectation fell hard upon my shoulders and my small back bucked under the weight of responsibility. How could I say that I loved them both but they hurt me like they hurt each other? I wanted them to be happy but knew that they were not, I wanted them to be apart but they wouldn’t slice the cord in the mistaken belief this situation was better for me. So, I smiled and took both of their large hands into my small ones and reminded them that I was late for school.
Marie-Louise McGuinness comes from a wonderfully neurodiverse household in rural Northern Ireland. She has work published and forthcoming in numerous magazines. She enjoys writing from a sensory perspective. Twitter: @mlmcguinness