Chairs and Pears, Pairs of Gears, People Upstairs

One of our weekly writing prompts.

Granny’s house is a strange place. The main floor seems normal. There’s a rocking chair in the living room with an orange and gold afghan draped over the back and a sofa that has ugly flowered upholstery. The kitchen is tiny and there is always a bowl of yellow pears in the middle of the miniature table. Her bedroom is also on the main floor and not too interesting except for the cuckoo clock on the wall that ticks and grinds and makes all sorts of noises, and then on the hour, the little wooden cuckoo explodes through the painted doors and screeches its mechanical coo.

But these are the normal things. It’s the people who live upstairs who are strange. The first thing that’s strange about them is that Granny tells me they aren’t there even though she has pictures of them in frames on the mantel. The second thing that’s strange about them is that they never seem to sleep. When I visit Granny I sleep in a bed upstairs, but even when I wake up in the middle of the night the people are awake and staring. They don’t talk much, the people upstairs. That is the third strange thing about them. When they do speak their lips don’t move. I think that is also strange.

There’s also a cuckoo clock upstairs, but there are two cuckoos in it, one is white and one is black. The white one cuckoos on the hour, but the other only cuckoos when someone dies, like when cousin Emma was sleep walking and fell down the stairs. I only heard it cuckoo then.

The Sensation on My Skin was Unbelievable

Part 4 of 4 of a multipart prompt dealing with the senses.

It wasn’t as if I didn’t know that Yellowstone was dangerous. Hell, just a few weeks ago some guy got eaten by a bear. But what doesn’t make the headlines like the bear attacks are all the people who are horribly burned each year by the thermal features. Even with warning signs, imbeciles still step across barriers and jump over railings and scald their fingers sticking them into boiling pools. I heeded all of the warning signs. There weren’t even supposed to be any thermal features where I was hiking, but I guess I found a new one. Hiking off trail isn’t forbidden in the park, but they do assume that any idiot who does it at least half-way knows what they’re doing, and I did. Bear spray, rig to hang my food, spade to bury my…well you get the picture. Doesn’t matter. If the park has it in for you, you’re going to die. That’s what they tell you anyway, in the park orientation. Everyone scoffs, but it’s true.

I’m walking along, shouting “bear, bear, bear” and then I’m burning, the sensation on my skin was unbelievable, incredible heat, like embracing the sun, and the pain, oh God. It was only later they told me I’d stepped into a thermal pool. Guess the park had it in for me.
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A New World (Part 1)

It was my first day on earth, and so far so standard. The sky was blue the ground was solid and the intelligent spices was bi pedal and civilized, for the most part anyway. I looked back at my second, Alex, who was trudging along behind me, resigned to our new existence on a back-water no-name world that had been thrust upon him after he refused to let me leave our home world on my own.

I was excited to see the place that Alex had scouted to be our new home and cover story. It had been a bar and restaurant for a long time. Then one of the sons took it over and drove it into the ground as his gambling problem had gotten worse. His brother now owned it and seemed eager to get it sold off, bad memories or some such.

I saw the man and waved as we walked up, ignoring Alex glare of disapprove at my obvious excitement.  The old man shook my hand and offered to show me around the inside of the building, but I declined, saying that I thought better when I was on my own, asking Alex to collect the details on the place while I did an in-depth scan of the underlying plumbing and structure.

A Heart of Gold

A Heart of Gold

I am Eina. I have been hunting a prey over the days of my life. Not wolf's prey. One of my own kind. I will repay to him what he had done to me and my family. I will give to him all which he deserves

 

It had been months since I last saw him, watching him walk away in the flurries of snow and ice. He had been younger then, though to me he was the same.

I had searched for him, enduring the cold and evils of the wild. 

I was a pup, not some wild wolf; what I did not know I quickly learned through blood and scars.   I can now hold my own against a lone wonderer or even a pack of five; I know the hunting places and wildlife to eat; I am in essence, the angel which grants life and death to those whom find themselves before my jaws.

He lies before me, bloodied as I am; one eyelid cut and swollen shut.  We had fought moments before; blood and fur covering angles of the cave in which he lived.  I, having the element of surprise, had the upper hand.  Then his instincts took over and he used his strength and greater size to balance the fight. 

Snapping of teeth and slashing of claw, our dance seemed like an eternity before we finally broke apart and he saw his opponent with one clear eye.  Perhaps that was what made him fall or maybe his wounds.  Either way, he had taught me well.

“Eina,” he growled.  “You’re…you’re…”

“Alive?” I snapped back, angrily, “Surprised? Given it was a lifetime ago, I’m  not surprised. I was but a pup then.”

“All grown…up,” he coughed up blood.  His wounds were deeper then it appeared.

I felt my heart waver.  No, remember!  Remember what he did to us!  What he did to Ariel! What he did to mother!

Mother…I had loved her deeply.  A daughter’s love for her daughter knows no bounds.  She had been hunting, taking my brother Ariel to teach him the skill.  Father and I followed, he too was to teach me.  Suddenly a clash of thunder and mother was thrown off her feet and into a thicket.  A second roar of thunder and Ariel was also thrown off his feet and into the same thicket.  Father grabbed me by the scruff and hid me in an abandoned barrow. 

“Stay here.”

“Father! Mother, she—”

“Stay here until I return!” he growled furiously.

I had coward and obeyed, and he disappeared into the surrounding forest.  Long did I wait, but never did he return.  I called to him, he never answered.  I called for Mother and Ariel, their blood on the wind was the only reply.

Almost two days I waited until I left, hungry and knowing if I did not eat I would die. 

I left the hiding spot.

So I lived and learned from my own accord, learning from scars earned and living a loner’s life—all the while, remembering my father who had abandoned me, Ariel, and my Mother.  I swore I would find him and give to him what he had given to them!

 And now, he is before me.  Older but still the same.

  He had fought savagely—was it for his own life?  Of course it was. He had run from his mate and only son and daughter.  He would run if given the chance.

Except this time he will not.

“Eina,” he croaked as he tried to stand. 

He had croaked when he spoke.  He was dying.

I leaped upon him, he braced his forepaw upon my breast.

I bit it and he growled in agony.  So he would not die screaming?  At least he has dignity in the end, of all things.

“For Mother and Ariel,” I said, peering into his yellow eyes—eyes I knew I got from him.  I hoped he could see the coldness within them; so he would know: no mercy was in my heart.  “The family you could’ve saved!”

“Eina…I,”

My teeth flashed once.  I tasted his neck. Then felt his blood as it gushed from him. A death rattle echoed in the cave. I watched him sag in my grasp.  I let him fall.  He hit the cave floor, his body moving feebly.  I watched as the life faded from his eyes.

My father was dead.

I did not see the attack coming.  I had barely walked into my family’s cave when I was bawled over and viciously set upon.  But was no dog to easily be set upon.  I was a wolf, once alpha of the greatest pack of land.  I had my share of fights and leadership coups.  This was nothing.

Darkness of the cave was a set back.  Though wolf and we can see in the dark, I had just come in from the light of day—even the mightiest of eyes weaken to adjust.

The female—I know female when I feel it—had surprise but I had experience and huger mass.  I used it. 

We fought like savages, I for my family.  This female, I know not.  In our exchanges in our dance—a paw set there, a feint put there—all her moves seemed to echo my own.  Realization came when we broke apart, after she wounded my good eye and I saw through my remaining eye.

Eina.

My daughter.

She was alive.

I was astonished and shocked.  “Eina, you’re…you’re…”

“Alive?” She snapped back, angrily, “Surprised? Given it was a lifetime ago, I’m  not surprised. I was but a pup then.”

“All grown…up,”  I felt blood come to my throat and mouth.  I coughed it up.

I remember when I last saw her.  She had been a pup.

The day when her mother and brother died.

I saw her mother with Ariel, walking to the hunt as they had always done.  I heard the sky splitting thunder of Man’s rifle.  I saw my mate and my love’s breast burst in a shower of blood, before she was thrown into the bushes.  Shock had not registered when a second roar thundered. 

Ariel.  My son.  The shot found him where it had found his mother and threw him into the same thicket.

Eina.  I reacted on instinct.  Instead of running to my mate and son to see if they lived, I grabbed my daughter and ran.  I took her to an abandoned barrow and forced her to stay until I returned.  When she questioned and I snapped my jaws at her and she complied. 

I then walked slowly into the forest—to lure Man away from my only family living and to bury my mate and son. 

I found them, their bodies undisturbed, where they had been killed.  Though their bodies were still warm, I knew the life within them were gone.  I buried them, alone, and then returned to the barrow, to my daughter.

To find her gone.

I searched for her, knowing she had to be close.  She had to be.  I could not find her scent.  My mate’s and son’s blood was what filled my nose.  I called to her but I heard no reply.

I mourned for Eina, thinking her dead as well.

And now she was here, in my family’s home.

Attacking me.

“Eina,” I tried to explain, but I gagged—a croak came out barely audible.  I tried to get to my feet but failed, I had lost too much blood.

She moved like lightning then, shouldering me to the ground.  On my back, neck exposed, vulnerable.  I tried to push her off with my paw.  She bit.  I growled.

“For Mother and Ariel, the family you could’ve saved!” she cried.

I tried to speak.  “Eina…I,”

I felt my neck rip open.  Pain did not come until blood fountained.  My blood.  I felt my body convulse as it tried to save itself from death.  I knew it was fatal.  I was dying. 

I could feel Eina’s teeth on my neck.  She dropped me and I fall to the cave floor.  Though my body seemed far away, I found my last strength to look at my daughter. 

She had her mother’s eyes.

Moonlight

Warning: Sexual Content, Mature Themes

This is a scene that may contain content which may make the viewer uncomfortable but I write in memory of a beloved friend.

Often in writing, we write to create a new reality, an illusion so we may help ourselves and the reader escape. With this, I hope to break that illusion to shed light on what some people must face on a daily basis...

...and what people are unable to see... or choose, pretend, to stop in favor of their view of reality. 

This was written in response to a prompt with the genre of Tragedy.

The story follows two high school students, two long lost childhood friends.  After ten years of separation, high school draw the two together. Yet. Mark carries the loss of his twin sister, her shadow hanging over him; she had died in a car accident. Sana had lost her parents from the same car accident. Both orphaned, though Sana was soon adopted by a teacher at the high school they both attend.