Leaving Home

“Be careful Charlie, my dear” his mother said to him, giving him a slimy smooch on his forehead.

“Yes mama” he replied, slowly turning and inching out into the grass.

His mother, who was a very open-minded woman, couldn’t shake her maternal instincts of wanting to keep her son as close to home as possible. “My sweet little boy, off to be his own man” she murmured to herself, turning around and slipping back into the house.

She took in her surroundings, the melodic sounds of water dripping from the ceiling into metal buckets, the musty smell, almost like she was living in a senior home; she quite liked that smell. The kitchen needed to be cleaned, those poor pots and pans that had made their home in the sink had seen better days. The carpet was beginning to come up at the corners of the living room.

A small, somewhat pained sigh left her as she entered Charlie’s room. Her eyes hovered around the room, not wanting to miss a single detail. The bottom of her mouth began to quiver as she fought back tears. She tightened her lips, flattening them out in an attempt to stop her chin from shaking. The lump in her throat made it feel like she couldn’t breathe.

Several tears slid down her stalks. “Oh my sweet boy” she choked out.

The Ritual

They held me down with their grotesque and swollen hands. I struggled against their grasps but to no avail, these things were massive and definitely weren’t human.

I could hear chanting start to swell within the darkness of the cave. Out of the corner of my panicked vision I saw torch-light, fire causing shadows on the walls to dance around.

Another, much skinnier being came into view. It stood in front of me and had a large, feathered, wooden mask on; I could make out that the things was littered with intricate carvings.

I heard it say a command in a language that I didn’t understand, it’s raspy voice echoing off of the stone walls. Three more of the brutes came towards me, one gripping my ankles and putting it’s weight down, I winced. Another stopped at my head, and used it’s disgusting fingers to pry my mouth open. I wriggled and fought against the beings restraining me but to no effect. The third monster held a bucket in it’s hands. It looked like it could crush it like a soda can if it wanted.

My breathing became more spastic and my eyes darted around the dark, always unconsciously locking onto the orange glow of the torch. Grunts of defiance rose up out of my throat as the bucket came closer to my open mouth. I could see the thing tipping it over. I let out a scream, tried to violently pry myself away from my captors; my struggling didn’t seem to faze them at all, nor move them.

The bucket tipped more and finally it’s contents oozed onto my skin. A heavy, thick, black tar-like substance plopped into my mouth and continued to flow slowly. I arched my back, trying to do something, anything. My jaw was on fire from being held open. I coughed and choked as the black goop slid down my throat. I panicked. More of the black liquid was poured onto my face, covering my eyes and nose. I couldn’t breathe. I choked, gagged, gasped for air that I couldn’t suck in, only more of the “tar” went down.

My head felt like it was going to explode, my muscles ached from trying to escape, I couldn’t breathe and now I was blinded. The crazed chanting grew louder and louder, I could still hear it through my goop covered ears. It swelled, became louder and louder until I couldn’t hear anything but that, not even my own desperate attempts at taking breath.

A scream echoed through the cave and the torch-light was extinguished almost instantly.

I jolted up in my bed, sweat running down my entire body, the back of my t-shirt soaked. I felt sick. I swallowed, thank god I could swallow. I breathed in deeply from my mouth, letting my lungs expand to their capacity before I let the air out with a quick huff. I gripped my sheets with my… shiny, jet black hand.

My heart sank.

My bedroom door creaked.

It Hurts Every Time

They’re gone! They’re all gone! Mary, Johnny, Phillip, everybody, they’ve all just ceased to be; I don’t know what to do. Do I run? Do I gather up everything I can carry and go somewhere new? I can’t do it without them. I have to do something, I have to keep moving or I’ll be dead next.

I gather up what little supplies was left at camp into my pack and slip the straps over each shoulder. I can’t bear to think of them. I want to leave, that much is for sure. I turn and start jogging away from camp, into the woods.

Minutes pass, then an hour; finally, I stop and rest by a tiny stream, allowing my pack to slip off of my shoulders and sit next to me. I take a moment to drink in my surroundings, the forest used to be such a peaceful place, now, most people avoided it, especially when it got dark. The leaves in the trees rustle and sound like applause as the wind blows through them. I look up, the orange evening sun peeking through the wood and green. None are left, and the thought really hit home.

I could feel a lump forming in my throat, my chin starting to contract and loosen as I attempted to hold back the tears. It’s no use, I’ve always been a crier. I feel my body start to tremble as I grip the grass at my sides. I feel so pathetic as the salty tears begin to slowly slide down my cheeks. I close my eyes, causing more to trickle down and pitter pat against the ground. My chest hurts, my heart aches. I’m gritting my teeth and white knuckling the ground so fiercely that I can already feel the soreness building. I draw in a shaky breath and let it out quickly, it was getting harder to swallow. Whimpers escape me.

I don’t remember how long I have been sitting here, grieving for my lost friends; it must have been a little bit, the sun was almost gone and darkness was creeping up. I can faintly make out some of the stars through the branches; everyone could see the stars more clearly now, but the forest had the best view.

I exhaled and grabbed my pack, stood up, and slipped the straps on my shoulders. None are left. It’s time to start over… again.

via Daily Prompt: None

Liberation

The sky is filled with a pale, grey blue cement. A cool breeze gently flows past me. I can feel the hard asphalt on the bottom of my bare feet with each step I take. This place used to be my home.

I pass by several now abandoned houses. The windows are boarded up and the doors have a heavy metal device latched onto them, it looked like a government issued full door lock. A large, two-handed turner sat in the middle of the metal door cover; it made me think of a bank vault. From the street, I could still make out that it needed a large key to operate; I could only imagine that this was the case for the rest of the homes, all of them had these locks.

It’s strange how quiet the world really becomes when we’re out of the picture. No more cars, no more moving cars I should say, no more businesses with people walking in and out, no more cellular phones to hold our attention.

We now know the pain of being endangered.

It Was a Dark & Stormy Night…

I’m alone.

I hope the place doesn’t come down around me, the rain is really coming down. I poke my freshly lit fire with a stick I found before the rain came. The warm energy in front of me dances and crackles as embers flutter about.

I can hear the wind blowing outside. Sometimes I will glance out of one of the windows and take a peek of nature; she seems angry this evening, I wonder who upset her. I can only assume that the weather will worsen as the night comes closer. Now, I don’t want to sound like a chicken but, inclement weather and the dark don’t mix well for me; I’ve never been a fan of either one, much less so when they join forces.

The rain patters atop the wooden roof as I raise my head to look up, then back down to my fire, the lighthouse in this storm.

I watched too many horror films before I came out here. In the back of my mind, I feel as if an axe wielding murderer will burst through the cabin door, having seen the faint glow of my fire through the black of night. I push the thoughts out of my mind and try to focus on the positive aspects of rain and storms.

For one, I thought, rain washes things away and helps plants grow. That’s a pretty good thing last time I checked. I think of storms as a cleansing type of weather. Lightning strikes create fire which destroys but also can provide the atmosphere for growth. Rain can also bring things together, make people feel more at home and caring. Some people wouldn’t think twice about bringing a stray animal into their home, but put that poor puppy in the rain and we can’t help ourselves.

A low rumble of thunder interrupted my thoughts, followed by a brief flash of lightning. The windows of the cabin seized white and black for a moment. I let out a breath and leaned back, allowing myself to lie and stare at the wooden ceiling. I interlocked my fingers and rested my hands atop my abdomen. The floor felt hard and made the back of my head hurt.

I shivered uncontrollably for a moment, as if my brain was upset with me for making it take a theoretical backseat to the lighthouse. The fire continued to crackle and warm my feet. I had to make sure to put it out before I fell asleep; knowing my luck I’d probably set the whole cabin ablaze.

The rain was coming down harder now, the wind causing some of the nearby tree branches to flick at the windows. Goosebumps ran up and down my arms and back as I sat up to another flash of lightning shining though the windows. I’ll admit, that one got me. Almost instinctually, I scooted closer to the fire, enjoying the warmth it was giving off.

I just have to wait it out.

Thunder roared again.

Relationship with the Stars

The night is upon me, funny, I must have missed it sneaking up.

The air is cool and crisp, I feel it every time I take a deep breath. My feet lightly pat against the pavement as I walk. The streetlights ruin the night sky as I pass underneath them.

I stop and look around for something to throw. Half of a brick presents itself and I pick it up. My eyes focus on the light above me as I take aim. A small grunt escapes me as I chuck the brick at the light, hitting it and causing sparks and glass to fall from the source.

I back away quickly so not to get cut and soon after, I lift my head to look at my beautiful night sky once more. Even the killing of one of the streetlights have made her look all the more stunning.

I could stare at it forever.

A Nice Night Out

The music blasting out of the bar speakers thumped against my body. It was a dimly lit place and wooden floors that one would hear creak as one stepped, if the music hadn’t been so loud. My eyes remained forward as I made my way to the back room. I passed several young people standing around, having a drink, and bouncing to the song. Young people annoy me.

Two large wooden doors stood between me and the larger back room of the bar. It seemed to be the source of the music being broadcast throughout the rest of the bar’s speakers. I leaned my head to either shoulder, cracking my neck before I pushed the doors open, casually walking into the party room.

The song had finally changed, however, it was to something worse, I don’t know how that was possible. One thing stayed the same though, the beat was still heavy enough to feel it in my bones, it almost made my teeth hurt.

A good amount of annoying young people were present in the room. It was almost the same atmosphere as the rest of the bar except several party spotlights swiveled on the ceiling, creating a flash of color on the ground and along the walls. How people can stay in an place like this for more than five minutes is amazing to me.

I scanned the crowd as best I could, the flashing colored lights made it harder to make out anyone’s face. My target: Male, late twenties, short brown hair, thick mustache, thin build, brown eyes, scar from a dog bite on his right arm. I started to make my way into the crowd as they grinding and pressed themselves up against each other. I grimaced.

As I eased my way through the small army of hormonally fueled young people, I tried to look at a few faces. No one that matched my guy, not yet anyway. I eventually reached the other side of the mob and came upon the counter of a bar that was stationed in the back. Two bartenders were on duty, running back and forth to either side of the counter, frantically trying to get everyone the correct drink in a timely manner. I stood just behind the small crowd of people who were order drinks, looking at the backs of their heads as I tried to find brown hair in the moments of flashing primary colors.

My eyes locked on to short brown hair, check. The person had a thinner build, check. I walked to my right a few steps, a small group of three young adults bumped into me as they made their way back to the dance floor. I looked down at his arm, I couldn’t tell if he had a scar or not, the flashing lights made it difficult. Back up to his face, mustache, check. I had to make sure he had that scar, that was my win condition. I moved in closer, using the people standing at the bar as a means to blend in, I still felt like I stuck out like a sore thumb.

As a stroke of good luck, he seemed to rest his arms up on the bar. Even with the dimness of the room and the pulsating lights, I could make out that he had a scar, a bigger one than I thought, must of pissed off the wrong dog.

He had a cup filled with some type of alcohol sitting in front of him, the liquid almost vibrating within. I turned and leaned my back against the counter, crossing my arms and allowing a tiny pill to gently slide out of a secret holding compartment in my sleeve and into the palm of my hand. Once he had turned to inevitably talk to someone else, I opened my hand and dropped the pill into the drink, it dissolving quickly.

I pushed myself up off the counter and began to walk towards the exit. Again, I had to make my way though the mob, I let out a frustrated groan as I pushed my way past all the drunk dancers. Once I finally reached the large wooden doors, I looked back at my target. He must had taken a big drink, he was already looking worse. I watched him lean heavily against the counter as the bartender came to his aid. He collapsed backwards, the bartender rolling her eyes as she seemed to think that he had just had too much to drink.

I turned and pushed the doors open, making my way through the main area of the bar and walking outside into the cool night air once more. I brought my watch closer to my mouth. “Target down, send me the next one.”

Crying with No Umpf

I feel my back hit the wall as I slowly start to slide down. I sit on the floor and bring my legs up to my chest. My arms wrap around them as I turn my head to the side and rest my cheek atop my knees.

I feel stagnant and heavy. My eyes stared to the wall to my left, a few pieces of furniture in my peripherals. I don’t feel like blinking. My eyes don’t seem to be drying up. I feel a tear roll over the bridge of my nose, I hate the small itch that sometimes comes with crying.

I hold my legs closer. I can feel the muscles in my arms and shoulders contracting. Moments later I try to relax them, feeling more tired as the stress left.

I lean up, letting the back of my head rest against the wall. ‘Stupid, stupid, stupid’ I lift my head and knock against the wall with each thought.

I let my legs extend outward again, looking at my socked feet and the small wet spot that had appeared on the knees of my jeans. I don’t know what to do with my hands. Eventually, I bring them to each other, using one to hold the other’s wrist.

My brown eyes look up to the ceiling as I feel that small pain in my nose, the kind that shows its face when tears are about to show up. I extend my jaw to one side, trying to hold them back, I don’t know why I even bother. Before I know it, drips of water slide down my cheeks, my vision blurring until I blink the bastards out.

My mouth hangs open a bit, my heart is beating solidly and the hand that’s hugging my wrist is using its thumb to try and comfort me.

My body feels numb and honestly I’m glad.

Rainy Skies and Fluffy Pancakes

“I’ve never seen it rain in the morning before, dad, it’s so pretty!”

He glanced down at her, then to the outdoors and replied “Yeah, it sure is huh? Do you like how the sky looks?”

“Yeah! It looks so yellow” she replied excitedly. She bounded over to the threshold and stared out in awe.

He slowly followed, only having to take a few steps in order to reach her location. He too looked out at the world, at the yellow sky, as the light rain shower continued to cause ripples in the puddles it had been forming on the ground. He gave her a soft pat on the head, then proceeded to sit down next to her.

She looked over at him, a giant smile on her face that only seemed to grow larger when he lowered himself. Moving her tiny body, she sat between his legs, leaning back against his chest.

He took notice to how much longer his legs were than hers. A small smile showed up on his face as he leaned back on his hands.

“I hope it rains every single morning and I hope that it is the small rain like this and not the thunderstorm kind. I don’t like those kinds.” She fiddled with her long dark hair as she spoke.

“But what if you wanted to go outside and play in the morning time? What if it’s raining and you wanted to go play with your friends?”

“Then we would just play outside dad” she replied, shrugging her shoulders aggressively and smiling a toothy, open mouth smile.

He nodded in response “Mmmmmm!”

She turned around, now starting to mess with his white t-shirt. “Do you like rain in the morning daddy?”

“I do indeed” he replied, matching her enthusiasm as best he could. “I like it when the sky is a really pretty orange color. Have you ever seen the sky when it looks like that?”

She shook her head, making her brown locks swish. “No! But now I wish the sky wasn’t yellow anymore! I want to see it when it is orange!”

“Well maybe it’ll be orange tomorrow kiddo.”

“But I want it to be orange now” she persisted, getting a little upset that the sky wasn’t bending to her will.

“I know I know but sometimes we have to be patient to get the things we want.” He waited for a moment, seeing that she was taking that advice and processing it in her little mind.

She let out a huff and backed away from him, standing back up. “Daddy I’m hungry. Can we make pancakes, pretty please?” The please at the end was very drawn out, a child’s way of trying to persuade an adult to do something they want.

“Sure kiddo” he replied, standing up with a bit of a audible groan. “You want blueberries in yours?”

“Yes yes! Please Please blueberries are so so so soooo good!”

He chuckled a little. “Hey, maybe when this rain goes away we can go to the park? You feel like walking around with daddy and looking at trees and squirrels?”

She gasped rather loudly, he had learned that that noise was a solid “yes!” in her vocabulary.

“Daddy can show you where he and mommy used to walk around too, how about that?” He pulled a pan out of the cabinet, setting it on the stove.

She just wiggled around excitedly, both for breakfast as well as the outdoors. She was her mother’s daughter that much was certain. “Park park park park park” she chanted, bouncing around, lifting her knees up with each hop before bringing her feet down on the linoleum floor with a bang.

“Settle down now kiddo, I can’t make pancakes if you’re going to shake the whole house.”

“But I’m just so excited for. the. PARK!” She jumped one last time and landed on her feet before falling over and making snow angel motions on the kitchen floor.

He had mixed together the pancake batter in the time it had taken her to get some of her excitement out. The pan was getting nice and hot and he was just about ready to start pouring.

Mornings like this are ones that he would probably remember forever.