Where are you from?
Where are you from?
Kai, a prolific writer that has the keen ability to provoke thought. Two words that best describe her are positive and purposeful. Clear, colorful and insightful are Kai’s writings about the nature of love, human relationships and the human condition. Her words deepen one’s understanding every time they are read. Whether her words are in the form of articles, blogs, poetry, Tweets, or FB posts, they are talked about during the week and are usually great conversation starters. Come and enjoy the world of Kai Kaiology Mann.
Click the link below to read an excerpt from Abandoned Property by Kai Mann.
I will the rain to be the source of life . . .
Rain grapples with memories of a horrific past that leaves her far from unscathed. After witnessing her mothers gruesome murder as a child, she is now left piecing together the fragments of her shattered psyche as an adult. Quickly, she is drowning in years of frustration and confusion with no promise of relief. Sinister visions and undying spirits haunt Rain relentlessly, driving her deeper into darkness and lunacy. Rains grandmother, GiGi, tries her best to help Rain face the truth, urging her to confront her past, but the past is too painful–it’s easier to hide.
As Rain struggles desperately to define herself, she’s forced to brave her live-in siblings: a violent and narcissistic brother, Danny, who resents her weakness and Carmen, her promiscuous and hostile older sister, who wishes Rain would disappear. In her fragile mental state, Rain is ill-equipped to handle the chaos of their ruptured lives. When Rain, Carmen, and Danny are submerged into the horrors of prostitution, drug-addiction, domestic violence, and murder, Rain is left alone to face her internal demons and find her identity, with no one to answer to, but herself.
Twenty Years Ago
A cold chill invaded her bedroom. The windows were closed and the heat was on, but there was still an unjustified frost that nipped at Rain’s skin as she lay snuggled in her twin-sized bed under her Sesame Street blanket. Living in Detroit, frigid nights could be expected in the dead of winter, but this was different than any other chill she’d experienced; it was eerie. That’s what woke her up. It wasn’t the faint sound of screaming in the near distance or the echo of heavy footsteps pounding the linoleum floors. It was the creepy, cold air that bit at her ears, fingers, and toes. Rain rubbed her eyes and lazily threw the covers off her small body. Her tiny feet dangled from the side of the bed as she sat there for a moment, yawning and wondering how long it would be before it was time to eat her usual Crunch Berries and toast for breakfast. It was dark in her room, and the light from the hallway crept through the crack under the door. She could tell it was still nighttime. She opened her curtains and saw the steel moon staring back at her, confirming her initial thought; it was still the middle of the night. Then she heard it again, thundering footsteps followed by a shrill scream. This time she knew—it was her mother.
Rain jumped out of bed and rushed out to the hallway. The light made her squint as her eyes adjusted. She started running down the hall, but quickly slowed her pace to a slow and careful walk. At five years old, she had the senses of a grown woman. She knew her mother was in danger and that she might be as well. Still, her curiosity compelled her forward to find out what was going on. As she got closer to her mother’s bedroom, the noise became louder and clearer. She heard her mother again, but this time she wasn’t screaming. She was talking desperately. Begging.
“It wasn’t me, baby. It was Rock. He forced me. He got the money. We can go get it, me and you. We can get it right now. Please, just let me get it and this whole thing will be all over.”
Rain heard a smack, then a crash. The brash voice of a man bounced off the thin walls of the small bungalow.
“You think I’m stupid don’t you? I told you last Friday if you ain’t have my money, I was comin’ for you. Gimme my money now!” Smack!
To Rain, he sounded like a monster. Like Skeletor, his voice was deep and groggy and sent a cold shiver down her spine. Suddenly, she started to cry. Warm tears staggered down her face, but she managed to remain silent as she kept a slow and steady pace toward her mother’s bedroom.
LET US PROMOTE YOUR WORK
Grand Rapids Region Writers Group
Meetings are held on the 2nd Saturday of the month, starting at noon located at Peppino’s Sports Grille, 1515 Eastport Drive, Kentwood.
2nd & 4th Monday’s of each Month
West Branch Public Library
(Community Room Downstairs)
119 N. Fourth Street
West Branch, MI 48661
3rd Monday. RSVP next meetup
Would you like to add your Michigan Writing Group? Contact us
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