White
Chalk
by
Pavarti K Tyler
Published:
July 2013
Word
Count: 65,000
Genre:
Literary Fiction, Coming of Age
Content
Warning: Adult themes and sexual content
Age
Recommendation: 15+
Synopsis
Chelle isn’t a
typical 13-year-old girl—she doesn’t laugh with friends, play sports, or hang
out at the mall after school. Instead, she navigates a world well beyond her
years.
Life in Dawson, ND
spins on as she grasps at people, pleading for someone to save her—to return
her to the simple childhood of unicorns on her bedroom wall and stories on her
father’s knee.
When Troy
Christiansen walks into her life, Chelle is desperate to believe his arrival
will be her salvation. So much so, she forgets to save herself. After
experiencing a tragedy at school, her world begins to crack, causing a deeper
scar in her already fragile psyche.
Follow Chelle’s
twisted tale of modern adolescence, as she travels down the rabbit hole into a
reality none of us wants to admit actually exists.
Excerpt
Morgan huffed and turned her back on
me. Just as she stepped toward the door to retrieve her bag it swung open,
revealing my father swaying in the sunlight. His glazed eyes looked her over
and a crooked smile appeared on his lips.
“What’re you doin’ ‘ere?” He
slurred, lumbering through the door and closing it behind him.
“Hi, Mr. Whitney.”
“‘ey there pretty thing. ‘R you ‘ere
to visit my Chelle? Michelle ma Belle? But she’s not nearly as pretty as you
now, is she?” He leaned against the dining room table, letting his weight
settle to one side of his body. With one hand he reached forward to touch
Morgan’s face, but she drew away before he made contact.
“Dad, this is Morgan. Remember?”
“Nope.” He popped the “p” at the end
of the word and winked his blue eyes at her. A smile spread across his face, a
look that probably got him any woman he wanted when he was out.
It made me throw up a little in my
mouth. “My friend Morgan?”
I stepped in front of him, blocking
his laser focus on her chest. She slunk behind me. Her discomfort vibrated from
her body, joining my embarrassment until the air around us crackled with
tension.
“You ain’t got any friends,” he
sneered, craning his head to see behind me. “Certainly ain’t got none that look
so sweet. Come ‘ere baby, tell me what yer doin’ ‘ere.”
“I’m....” Morgan shook her head,
silently pleading with me for help.
“She’s just leaving, Dad. Leave her
alone. Why don’t you get another beer?”
“You think you can tell me what to
do?” He lumbered toward me, stopping close enough for me to smell the
cigarettes and beer on his breath. “Just like yer Ma, always thinkin’ you know
best.”
With his focus off Morgan, she was
able to sneak past and grab her bag. “See you later,” she blurted before
whipping open the door and rushing out.
“She’s a pretty girl,” Dad muttered,
staring after her, his eyes distant.
I grabbed my snack from the coffee
table and hurried toward my room.
“A real pretty girl.” His words
slurred, his heavy lids began to lower, and the couch groaned when he flopped
down to pass out.
My door was heavy, but I held the
handle so it would close without a sound.
Award-winning
author of multi-cultural and transgressive literature, Pavarti K. Tyler is an
artist, wife, mother and number cruncher. She graduated Smith College in 1999
with a degree in Theatre. After graduation, she moved to New York, where she
worked as a Dramaturge, Assistant Director and Production Manager on
productions both on and off Broadway. Later, Pavarti went to work in the
finance industry for several international law firms.
She now lives with
her husband, two daughters, and two terrible dogs. She keeps busy working
with fabulous
authors as the Director of Marketing at Novel Publicity, and by penning her
next novel.
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