Arlene Lagos's Blog, page 12

Blink Once

Blink Once

Into you I glare with eyes wide open

Colors fade and shadows fall behind

Weathered and aged passed expiration

Hope flickers but pain remains, resting behind tired eyes

Blink once, then twice, then close them hard

Avoiding truth, a reality that has seen better days

Recalling what was once a flower in bloom

Now in its place a wilted weed

Into you I glare with eyes half-open

Color has gone, shadows fall behind

Who are you looking back at me?

With sad eyes and haunting past

I do not recognize you

Blink once, then rub the eyes

In hopes the illusion will fade

Leaving the wilted weed behind

Showing only the once young flower within

Into you I glare with determination

Colors? This time a rainbow shines behind

Not weathered, dignified. Not wilted, just at rest

Still blooming inside, I have not died, just changed my form

I see you glaring back at me what once was there for all to see

I’ve been with you through it all you see, for you are me.

“Underneath”

Two weeks have passed since the quake first hit. Our neighborhood of forty houses was brought down to ten in a matter of minutes. Then came the volcanic eruptions. Lava rocks raining from the sky torched another eight, leaving just two houses standing: The O’Connor’s house and ours. Both made of brick, it made it harder for the lava rocks to burn. Our neighbors were living on the streets, or in cars, fighting each other for food.  Mother told us to barricade the doors and not to let anyone in. I didn’t understand; if they were starving then why couldn’t we help them?

“We don’t know how long we are going to be in this situation.  If we share what we have, we might run out and then we’ll be the ones dying in the streets,” she explained.

Staring out of the crack in the blinds, I see Timmy; a friend of mine who lives a few houses up. He’s crying and looks hungry and alone. His parents are probably dead by now. It seems wrong to not help. I have to do something. Sneaking downstairs, I fill my bag with canned food and bottled water from the cabinet. It seems odd that we have so much still. We haven’t left the house in weeks, yet we’re feeding four mouths and never seem to run out.

Slipping out a nearby window, I crouch down behind one of the few trees in our yard still standing and whistle to get Timmy’s attention.  He looks around and finally spots me. Running in my direction as fast as his little legs can carry him, a smile crosses my face as I feel a sense of elation in knowing that I might be able to ease his suffering. Walking out from behind the tree I extend my arm to hand him the bag, when a shot blasts out of nowhere. Blood splatters on my shirt and face, Timmy’s eyes roll back into his head and his legs collapse beneath him.  A bellow of screams by my mother ring through the air as she bursts out of our house towards me with my father close behind.

Paralyzed with fear I stand staring at my parents running towards me when I hear two more shots ring out. My father falls instantly and I feel my chest cave with uneasy breath. Mother has also been hit and now I can see the shooter. It’s our postman, Mr. Conlin from up the street. Reloading his gun and walking at the same time, he quickly moves towards us. My mother manages to crawl to me. Throwing myself on top of her I start screaming in agony.

“Ssh! Listen, you need to protect Toby,” she squeezes me. “Take this,” she whispers, handing me a pistol.

Mr. Conlin’s gun is at his side. He reaches out his arm signaling for me to hand over the bag of food I had packed for Timmy. Mother closes her eyes and lays very still, but I can still feel her breath on my hands.

“Give me that food kid and show me to the shelter. I know your parents have one. I guess they weren’t crazy after all! Ha ha, the joke is on us!”

I don’t know what he is talking about, but I know what I have to do. I can’t let him inside. I have to protect my little brother Toby at all costs. Slowly I stand up, knees shaking, heart pounding and throw the bag of food in the air. Mr. Conlin raises his head to look as I fire my pistol. Ripping through his skull, he falls backwards, water bottles smashing on the ground around him. Looking down at my mother now, her eyes barely open, I see her arm slide out from underneath her body and she opens her hand. Inside her palm is a key.

“In the basement. There’s a door in the floor. Save yourself. Save…Toby,” she said, exhaling her last breath.

Panic sets in and I sprint inside the house in search of Toby. Luckily, he’s still sleeping and didn’t witness the recent neighborhood horror. He’s small for a seven year-old, so I just pick him up and carry him down into the basement. As I search frantically for a secret door in the floor of the basement, Toby begins to stir.

“Is the storm over? Can I go out and play yet?” he asks, rubbing his eyes.

Too overwhelmed to answer, I ignore him.

“Where are mom and dad?” he asks, tears forming.

“Mom and Dad…they went to help some of the other families. They gave us a mission to find a door in the floor. Can you help me look?” I said.

“Okay!” he says excited.

In the corner of the basement, I see part of the carpet rolled up and walk over to examine what might be underneath. Pulling it back, I see a steel door with a heavy chain through the handles and a lock. Twelve years I’ve lived in this house and played in this basement, how did I not know this was here? Opening the lock I release the chains, pull it open and descend a staircase with Toby behind me.  There’s a long hallway and then another steel door.  As I approach the second door, a light above me comes on, a sensor light I can only guess, and the door opens automatically. Unprepared for what is inside, I fall to my knees in pure awe.

Mr. Conlin was right. My parents did have a shelter. A very large, underground bomb shelter filled from ceiling to floor with enough food to feed hundreds of people for weeks. Or four people for a year. Or two people for even longer. My parents were preparing. They were like…doomsday preppers! There’s food, water, and clothing to the left; to the right shelves of toys, books and games. In the back there’s at least a dozen commercial generators. Instructions hang on the wall on how to use everything, when to use it, and when not to in order to survive as long as we can.

“We’re going to make it,” I breathe a sigh of relief.

Suddenly a surge of pain bursts through me. Grabbing my side, I fall to my knees.

“Why are you bleeding Jenna?” asks Toby.

Soaking through my sweatshirt is blood from the bullet that must have grazed my side after it went through Timmy. Quickly I pour water on it to wash out the wound, find a first aid kit and begin placing gauze and bandages on it. While choking down painkillers and antibiotics, I hear something above us.

“Stay here and don’t make a sound,” I warn Toby. I run up the stairs and peak around the wall in the hallway.

Out of the corner of my eye I see someone sneaking around the kitchen searching for food. Holding onto my side, I realize that I still have the gun in the front pouch of my sweatshirt. Slowly I watched as the shadowy figure opens cabinets, grabbing

food and water out of them. Stepping slowly behind him I pull out the gun and point it at his head.

“Don’t move or you’re dead,” I said.

“Jenna? Is that you?” said a shaky voice.

Backing up, I lower the gun and spin the boy around. It’s Brian O’Connor. He lives in the other brick house still standing in the neighborhood.

“What are you doing here?” I said.

“They killed my parents. I’m alone. I have no food. Please don’t kill me!” he pleads.

Brian O’Connor, biggest bully in school pleading for his life. He and his friends would tease me about my weight because I was heavier than the other girls. His parents were the neighborhood snobs- so much better than us ‘cause they were doctors.

“Why should I help you?” I said, gun still pointing at his head.

“Because…we’re friends,” he said hesitantly.

“Friends! What a crock! You have never been my friend. I should kill you right now!”

“Then kill me! I’m going to starve to death anyway. If you don’t shoot me someone else will. There’s nowhere to go, we won’t survive this, none of us!” he cried.

“I will survive. Toby and I are going to be just fine. Can’t say the same for you,” I laughed.

Brian slid down onto the floor and began to cry. He rocked back and forth holding his belly, hungry, tired and fed up.

“I want my mom and dad,” he cried.

Then a little voice spoke out from behind me.

“Jenna, what’s wrong with Brian?” said Toby.

“Toby go back to the shelter now, I’m busy,” I yell.

“Why do you have a gun Jenna? Why are you being mean to Brian?” he said.

“Because he’s a bully!” I scream.

“You’re a bully!” Toby screams back.

He stars crying. He’s scared and confused, I thought.

But he was right.

Lowering the gun I look at my reflection in the microwave.

“What have I become?”

“That looks bad,” said Brian pointing to my bloodied side.

“My parents have books and tools at the house. They are…they were surgeons. I…I could stitch you up,” he offers.

“We have a bomb shelter,” I shout out suddenly. “You can stay with us, it will save us all, keep us alive for at least a year until the storms stop.”

“Okay,” he said.

“Okay,” I replied back.

“Go to your house and pack up any medical tools and books you can find then meet me back here in twenty minutes. Take this gun to protect yourself,” I said.

After handing him the gun, he holds it in his hands for a minute and instantly a horrible thought runs through my mind. Did I just seal my own fate? Can he be trusted? Will he kill me now and save himself? He puts the gun in the pocket of his coat and looks back up at me.

“See you in twenty,” he said.

Watching through the window I hold my breath as Brian sprints down the road towards his house, avoiding lava rocks, burning cars and hungry stray animals. Now feeling the effects of the painkillers, my legs give out from under me.

“We should get you in the shelter now,” said Toby.

“Not without Brian. Without him, I’ll bleed out and die,” I said.

“Mom and Dad will be home soon, they can take care of you,” said Toby.

Tears roll down my face as I realize for the first time that they are never coming back. They were dead, I had seen it, I just hadn’t accepted it yet, not until now.

“Mom and Dad are…dead,” I said.

Toby begins to cry as I rock him gently in my arms, drifting in and out of consciousness. The sound of music causes me to stir and when I open my eyes, I’m inside of the bomb shelter laying on a bed with a blanket over me. Too my right I see Brian and Toby playing a card game. Pulling up my shirt and pulling back the bandage I look at the stitches where my wound was once before. Running my fingers over the stitches I’m in awe at the precision that came out of a mere twelve year-old boy.

“You’ve been out for almost six hours. I figured you must be starving, so I made you some soup,” said Brian.

“Thank you,” I said.

To think I almost shot him. He saved my life even after I was ready to take his. This world we live in now, what had we become? We’re so violent. Maybe we deserve the wrath of the quake and the fires. Maybe we’re being sorted out, tested to see who’s worth saving.

“I’m really glad you are here,” I said to Brian.

“Me too.”

“Just for the record, I never thought you were fat. I always thought you were, um…are…beautiful.”

Call of the Sirens

Call of the Sirens

Water fills my lungs as I plunge further down into the frozen waters. The shore is but a few hundred yards, but I am no swimmer. Accepting my fate I stop kicking and let it take me to my watery grave.

Suddenly, I feel something wrap around my waist, then hands, then a huge tug. My head rips through the top of the water and I’m dangling from a human fishing pole several feet in the air; beside me floating in the tide is a ship.

“Not much o’ a swimmer be you?” said a man.

Blinking the water out of my eyes I focus on his face. He’s tall, muscular with dark black hair that flows sweetly in the sun. Covered in tattoos and armed with a sword, I knew right away he was a jack tar.

“You saved my life,” I gasp, coughing water out of my lungs.

“It would be rude o’ me t’ let a vixen like you wind up in Davey Jones Locker”

Pulling the rope towards the boat, he lowers me gently onto the ship, and then puts out his hand.

“Name’s Marcus. This be me ship and that man thar, climbin’ up t’ boat is me mate Angus”

Slowly spinning me around, he stops, then points to the island behind me.

“And that starboard thar be our island”

“You’re island? Impressive.”

“That’s right. Just me and me bucko Angus livin’ off t’ spoils o’ this place since t’ rest o’ t’ crew went t’ Davy Jones’ locker when t’ second ship capsized,”

“How awful. So you are here all alone? Just the two of you?” I asked.

“Aye, just t’ two o’ us. So, little lady, what might be yer name and what you be doin’ out here, bravin’ these waters?”

“My name is Anna. I’m a scientist. My crew and I were on an expedition to find raw materials, when we heard this enchanting music. It drew us right in, like we had no say in the matter.”

“Ah aye, t’ siren’s call. Always drawin’ men in and sinkin’ their ships just before they reach shore. Them beauties be devils.”

“I don’t remember seeing this island on any of my maps,” I said.

“No you won’t find this island on any map. It be t’ secret island o’ lost mates. Years ago all t’ rum runners, treaaye hunters and jack tars o’ t’ high seas stored their riches here. Now it’s just me and Angus port t’ inherit it all.”

Leaning in closely, pressing his body against mine, he whispered in my ear.

“Nobody will ever find ya here. It will be nice t’ have a beauty around t’ keep me warm at night.”

Playing along, I slide my hand down the small of his back until I feel the bottom of a revolver buried in the belt of his pants. Continuing to kiss my neck, I don’t move, but my eyes follow Angus as he strolls away towards the other side of the ship.

A gun goes off. Marcus pulls away at the sound, just in time for me to relieve him of his weapon.

“What was that?” he reaches for his gun.

“Looking for this?”

I point the gun at his head and watch as Serena appears on the aft of the boat.

“The fat man’s dead” she said.

“Who be you, Anna?” asks Marcus.

“Actually, you might know me better as Avielle, Queen of the Sirens.”

Eyes wide, Marcus gasps.

“I can see by the look in your eyes that my reputation precedes me.”

“I thought you were just a legend… A ghost story made up by other jack tars t’ keep us away from the island… No, you can’t be real!”

Sticking the gun in his groin, I lean in, grab his hand and place it on my bosom.

“Does this feel real enough to you?”

“What be my fate here?” he asks.

Leaning in again even closer this time, I press my hips into his, running my fingers through his soft black hair.

“Me and t’ lasss will be takin’ your ship, your island and your treayes…and maybe if you’re a real good lad, I’ll let YOU keep ME warm at night.”

With his hands now behind his back, I tie off the rope, leaving him to sit as Serena approaches.

“Serena, call the other sirens, let them know that it’s safe to come back home…and that I have a present for them.”

“Little Angels”

Dedicated to the victims of the Sandy Hook Elementary shooting.

Little Angels

Walking to the mailbox, a gust of wind passed by

Three little voices giggled and then whispered to me, “Hi”

Their names were Charlotte, Olivia and Jessica;

they were making the wind blow

“Make sure you wear your hat and gloves to work,

we are going to make it snow!”

As the snow picked up so did traffic, and I hoped I would not be late

Then I saw two more little angels, throwing snowballs by the lake

I pulled over and watched them play in the snow with a smile on my face

Three little boys started a snowball fight with me, Dylan, James and Chase

Now an hour late, I noticed ahead a truck had hit a pole

Would that have been my fate, had these angels not touched my soul?

Standing in line to pay for breakfast I heard some chatter at the tables

I looked around and before my eyes sat six more of those little angels

They sat with me as I ate blueberry pancakes, two eggs, and a banana

Their names were Emelie, Jack, Noah, Caroline, Avielle and Anna

We laughed and laughed all morning and on our way back outside to play

We noticed a woman at the breakfast line who had no money to pay

“She forgot her wallet” said an older voice, so I stood up and said, “It’s on me”

It felt good to help, so I thanked the angel, her name was Anne Marie.

In the parking lot an older man had lost the keys to his car

A few others walked by, not offering help, as the man looked near and far

Then I saw more little angels whisper into the old man’s ear

“They’re inside your jacket pocket, remember you put them there?”

“I remember now,” exclaimed the old man, with a smile on his face

Those angels were named Daniel, Madeleine, Josephine and Grace

“Come on kids, its snack time!” called out Victoria, Lauren and Rachel

The kids lined up behind them and disappeared into a snow squall

Deep inside my heart grew heavy, wondering if I’d ever see them again

Those beautiful angels who had lifted my spirits and grew to be my friends

Night came fast as I tucked myself in, but my mind was still awake

Tears rolled down, my stomach turned, and my heart began to ache

Four more appeared at the edge of my bed, and began to sing to me

Their names were Benjamin, Allison, Catherine and Jesse.

Then they kissed my head and giggled as they floated towards the sky

Selfishly I begged them all to stay, I wasn’t ready to say goodbye

Then two more appeared, older ones, who came to ease my pain

“You can find them in the snowflakes and in the wind and rain

The angels will always be by your side in the stars, your heart, your breath

Their love is stronger than ever now, they are more powerful after death

They are behind every act of kindness to help the living move along”

Then the angels blew a kiss and floated away, their names were Mary and Dawn.

The world can be so scary and the struggles awfully tough,

And sometimes just believing isn’t quite enough

But for me I rest more easily now, knowing the little angels are in place

To teach the living what it is we need to become a better human race.

 

Olivia Engel, 7/18/06, Charlotte Bacon, 2/22/06, Ana M. Marquez-Greene, 04/04/06,  Dylan Hockley, 3/8/06, James Mattioli , 3/22/06, Chase Kowalski, 10/31/05, Emilie Parker, 5/12/06, Jack Pinto, 5/06/06, Noah Pozner, 11/20/06, Caroline Previdi, 9/07/06, Jessica Rekos, 5/10/06, Avielle Richman, 10/17/06, Anne Marie Murphy, 07/25/60, Daniel Barden, 9/25/05,   Josephine Gay, 12/11/05, Grace McDonnell, 12/04/05, Madeleine F. Hsu, 7/10/06, Lauren Rousseau, 6/1982, Victoria Soto, 11/04/85, Rachel Davino, 7/17/83, Benjamin Wheeler, 9/12/06, Allison N. Wyatt, 7/03/06, Catherine V. Hubbard, 6/08/06, -Jesse Lewis, 6/30/06, Mary Sherlach, 2/11/56, – Dawn Hochsprung, 06/28/65- RIP Angels

Waking

It feels like I’ve been running for hours. Surprisingly, my feet don’t hurt even though their covered in cuts and bruises. Stopping to check my left side where I hit the road after jumping from the moving vehicle, I see a large gash and some dried blood. Shock must be setting in because I feel nothing at all. Sliding down the side of a large maple tree beside a muddy swamp, I hold my head in my hands trying to put the pieces back together.

We had been arguing in the car; Jake was driving, swerving, drunk. He struck me in the jaw; I was rolling down a hill and into the woods.  Jake wasn’t perfect. He drank a lot and sometimes he got loud, and sometimes I got hit. I knew when to keep my mouth shut. But this time was different, this time he seemed unable to control himself.

Staring into the swamp I see something move and distance myself less I be eaten. The wind gusts up a cyclone of leaves that surround me. Frightened, I walk fast in the opposite direction. A few minutes later I find myself back at the swamp.

“How on earth?”

“You can’t leave,” says a voice.

Spinning around I find a young man in his teens standing in front of me. His face is pale and lifeless. Darting as fast as I can in the other direction, I try to outrun him, just to find him standing in front of me.

“How did you do that?” I gasp

“I’m dead. I died here a few years ago. They still haven’t found my body, so they probably won’t find yours either.”

He points to a small area near the edge of the swamp where I see my hand jutting out of the leaves, my favorite bracelet dangling off the end of it.

“I don’t…”

“You don’t remember, but I saw the whole thing. That man beat you in the side of the head with a rock and buried you in the ground just a few inches from me. That’s why you can’t leave. You’re soul is tied to your body,” he said.

“Jake…killed me?”

“Jake! I can’t believe I forgot his name. I’ll never forget that face though,” he said.

“Did you know Jake?”

“Hah! Jake was my neighbor. He’d always harass my mom and one time I told my Dad and he laid Jake out with one punch! My dad was awesome! That pissed Jake off and he hated me after that. For months he wouldn’t come near our house, even look our way. Then one day he got drunk and kidnapped me as I was walking home from school. He took me out here and drowned me in this swamp,” he said.

“You’re that missing boy, Daniel?” I ask

“Yes, that’s my name, Daniel! I almost forgot,” he said.

“You’ve been out here this whole time?” I ask

“Yes. My body was never given a proper burial, so my soul is stuck here until they find me,” he said.

Walking over to the area where our bodies were buried I try to move the leaves but am unable to. Daniel walks over and puts his arm around me but it falls through not making contact.

“That’s impossible!” he says.

“What?”

“I can’t touch you. If something’s dead I can usually touch it, but you…are… fading!”

“What does that mean?”

“It means you’re still alive!”

“We need to wake me up! I have a cell phone in my pocket, I can call for help! Help me wake up Daniel!” I beg.

He starts walking in circles scratching his head.

“The animals! They can hear us, they can help!”

Running towards my body, Daniel sounds a loud battle cry. Creatures emerge from the swamp and surround my body making loud animal sounds. The sound eventually stirs me. My hand begins to move. My body lifts from the ground. Fading fast I find myself back in my body, but I can no longer see Daniel. Pulling my cell phone out of my pocket I dial and patiently wait as the phone rings. The pain is setting in fast. I don’t have much longer. Dizziness sets in and I fall back. What if I can’t get through? Blood pools around me. I might not survive this. But I have to hang on, for Daniel.

“Sherman County Police, what’s your emergency?”

“Daniel’s body… by the swamp…”

I can barely speak.

“Route 23… Jake Samson… mur-der-er…”

My hand releases the phone and I can hear talking on the other end as I fade away.

“They’ll find us now,” said Daniel, holding my hand.

Moments later the sound of an ambulance siren blares in the distance, and the animals sound their sound right back, calling out in our direction.

Coming Soon…

If you’ve come to my sight to take a look at some of my short stories you are too late! They are gone!  But, they will be coming back soon to a book shelf/e-reader near you! More details will be posted in the coming weeks. In the meantime, keep your eyes peeled for my December short story, it has a swamp theme…can’t wait to write it! Thanks for being a reader and have a wonderful holiday whatever you may celebrate!

 

 

They’re Coming

Jogging along the auto-track that runs where the sidewalks used to be years ago, my eyes are quickly drawn to an object half-buried in the ground below. Jumping off the track, I almost twist my ankle. The ground is dusty, dry and grassless. I backtrack to find the object I spotted. This part of town hasn’t been kept up in years; it’s intriguing to find anything here at all.

Pulling on the dark black object protruding from the ground, almost falling over, I use my fingers to burrow the dirt surrounding it, setting it free. It’s a gun. It has been many years since I have seen a weapon. They were all banned over thirty years ago by the Women’s Republic of States. Not even our police women are issued them anymore. They weren’t necessary as there is rarely an event that would cause a need for such a violent invention.

Still, this gun looks in good condition. There’s powder on the handle and three bullets in the chamber. I examine it carefully; recalling my days at the academy training with them before they became outlawed. My nose picks up a smoky scent suggesting that the firing of this weapon occurred recently.

A rustling in the bushes a few hundred feet away catches my attention. Someone is watching me. Instinctually, I pull the gun into my chest, closing the bullet-filled chamber and ready it. Whatever is preying on me is moving in fast. I spin around aiming the weapon in their direction but there is nothing there. Suddenly I feel the gun being ripped out of my hands, my body pushed gently against a tree and my hands tied behind it.

Helpless and unable to see my captor, I wrestle to tap the emergency help button that’s latched onto my ankle in hopes to send out a signal to a local authority, but I am pushed to my knees and my ankles separated.

“Who are you? Show yourself?” I scream.

Suddenly, three men appear in front of me out of thin air.

“My apologies Alexis, but we had to take precautions to ensure you didn’t run away or alert the authorities. My name is Crandos and these are my brothers. We come from the planet Aconia,” said Crandos.

“I’ve never heard of it. What are you doing on Earth and what do you want with me?”

“We’ve come here because we need your help,” said Crandos.

“How can I help you?” I ask.

“Our world is under attack by an army of vigilantes who want to take over our planet. We managed to capture all of them but one. His name is Joffer and he’s a very dangerous man. We followed him throughout the galaxy and found him here on Earth.” He said.

We’ve been trying desperately to seek audience with you. There’s nowhere on your world where there is privacy anymore except out here. We knew we’d find you here on your daily jog,” said Crandos.

“So you’ve been stalking me?” I ask.

“Seeking a private meeting with you,” he corrected.

“Then why am I tied to a tree?” I ask.

They untie me and sit themselves down on some nearby tree stumps.

“We need you to find this man and seduce him.”

“Why me?”

“We scanned our database and you are an exact match based on his tastes; his perfect woman to be blunt. You’ll get his attention,” he said.

“Then what?” I ask.

“Once you gain his trust, his defenses will be down and then you can kill him,” he said.

“Kill him? That seems extreme. What do you have that he wants so badly?”

“We have an unlimited amount of natural resources that other planets are running out of, including Earth and he wants them,” said Crandos.

Sitting myself down on the ground, I quickly grab the nearby gun, aim it and shoot all three of them point-blank in the head.

“All clear Joffer,” I said.

“See baby, I told you we were meant to be. Even the Aconias think so,” said Joffer.

“You’re such a romantic,” I said.

“Now lets go find us some oil, shall we?” said Joffer.

The Wish

The Wish

When I was a young, all I ever wanted was to fall in love. I couldn’t wait to grow up and meet my husband. Would he have brown hair like me? Would he like animals and rollercoasters? Maybe I already knew him. I’d watch the boys in the halls or in the lunchroom and try and figure out if it was one of them. I’d write their names down on the left side of the paper and their characteristics on the right then rate them. Funny and kind were the most important. There was only one boy in my entire school that fit all my criteria- Timmy Madden. It had to be him.

I wanted to talk to him, just to be sure. I needed to get close to him and our field trip to the pumpkin farm was the perfect opportunity. I sat as close to him as I could on the bus and watched as he interacted with the other kids. He told jokes that were funny. Check. When Jenny dropped her bag, he picked it up and handed it to her. Kindness-check.

Walking past the pumpkin patch and the flower garden, I followed Timmy around the farm. Then something out of the corner of my eye distracted me. The sun’s glare off the sunflowers was powerful. Walking closer, I noticed something on the ground giving off light. Lying there, in the middle of the sunflower patch, was a gold covered book, drawing in the sun and bouncing it off the sunflowers.

The inscription on the front read, “The Wishing Book”. I picked up the book and flipped through the pages, but they were blank. Confused, I shut it and started walking away when I heard a whisper.

“Write your wish in the book and it will come true,” said a voice.

“Who said that?” I jumped.

“Don’t you want to know if he’s the one?” said another.

It was coming from the sunflowers. They were chanting for me to write a wish. Excited, I grabbed the book off the ground, found a pen in my backpack and wrote my wish.

-I want to know everything about my future husband-

As soon as I finished writing, my words jumped off the page and spun over my head like a tornado. The sunflowers began to laugh and bend inward towards me trapping me there. Scared, I tried to push through, but they blocked my way and then a puff of yellow smoke shot out of the sunflowers and covered my face. When I finally rubbed it off with my sweatshirt they were gone, along with everything else. There were no sunflowers or pumpkins. The children and the teachers were gone too. The farm looked old and dilapidated.

I quickly ran into the farmhouse and tried to find help but nobody was there. Running back out the front door I tripped over a pile of newspapers that were sitting on the front porch collecting dust. Unraveling the paper I read the date October 4, 2062. Directly beneath it was a story about a local man named Ted Daniels who died leaving behind three children and his loving wife, Adele.

“That’s my name,” I gasped.

The article was filled with accolades of his achievements and how much of a dedicated family man he was, a thoughtful leader in the community. Below it was a picture of me, but much older. One arm was wrapped around him and the other placed gently around my children.

“This wasn’t what I wanted,” I cried.

“But that’s what you asked for,” said a voice.

I turned around and there was an old woman sitting behind me in a rocking chair.

“Who are you?” I asked.

“I am you,” she said.

“I don’t want to know this, send me back!” I screamed.

“You can never go back. You wanted to know about the future so here you are,” she said.

“Yes, but, I wanted to live it, to experience it, to know this great man that everyone knew. I didn’t want this!” I cried.

“If you spend your life only looking forward to tomorrow, you’ll miss today, everyday”.

She was right. I spent so much time thinking about the future, that I missed all the stuff that led up to it.

“It’s the stuff in between what you have and what you want that makes a life worth living,” she said and then vanished before my eyes.

I spent the first couple years of my new life searching for that book, so I could write a wish to bring me back to the past. Then one day I realized how blind I had been spending so many years stuck in the future hoping to get back to the past when all this time, I could have just been enjoying the present.

House Guest

October Short Story Contest Entry

House Guest

Two months ago I lost the love of my life to a car accident. Jason was

struck head-on by a drunk driver, dying instantly. Since then, I haven’t

been the same. Food is tasteless and dull- when I can manage to keep it

down -and sleep has evaded me. My weight has dropped considerably and my

head is constantly spinning.

I can’t keep lying here day after day, forcing myself to eat; dragging

myself out of bed just to try to stay awake so I can stare out the window,

hopelessly wondering how I’m going to continue without him. Nothing seems

to numb the pain. I feel it all day long, followed by a sleepless night,

and then do it all over again. Sometimes I think about just ending it all.

Just walking into the ocean as far as I can, putting my head under, opening

my mouth, and letting the salt water fill my emptiness.

But, I’d have to sneak past Constantine, the head shrink my mother hired to

keep an eye on me. He just showed up one day without notice and moved in!

What kind of doctor does that? He’s always here, but never says anything. I

feel like a prisoner in my own home.

The sun has set now and I am still staring out the window when a flicker of

light coming from Constantine’s room catches my attention. With a triple

knock, I announce myself; but there’s nobody there. Where did he go? I was

here all day surely I would’ve seen him leave? There’s a blue light glowing

from his private bathroom so I walk in to see what it is. The door shuts

behind me, frightening me and suddenly I hear music playing. It’s the sound

of children singing lullabies which I find very creepy.

Looking in the mirror, I stare at my reflection. I look tired and sad. My eyes are puffy

and my face is pale. In the background of my reflection I am certain I see

Constantine, but my eyes deceive me because when I turn to look, nobody is

there.

A chill runs up my spine as I tug on the handle and realize that I can’t

open the bathroom door. Suddenly, I hear the shower knobs turning and the

water start pouring into the tub. Picking up the plunger I jam it into the

shower curtain but there is nobody there. Am I going crazy? Where is

Constantine and why am I locked in this bathroom? Who is doing this? White

with anxiety I begin to cry, pounding my fists against the wall as the

bathroom fills with steam. I slide down the wall onto the floor gasping for

air when I look up to see a word forming on the mirror through the steam;

M-A-R-C-U-S. Clawing at the walls I start screaming, hoping someone will

save me from this nightmare.

“Please don’t kill me, I don’t want to die!” I scream.

Everything goes dark and I am certain I am nearing death when I hear a

voice.

“Ariana, are you alright?”

When I open my eyes, I am lying in a hospital bed with my mother standing

over me.

“What happened?”

“You fainted,” she said.

“Oh.”

“The doctor ran some tests; he said you were very dehydrated.”

“It was Constantine, mom. He was trying to scare me!”

“Who’s Constantine?” she said.

“The shrink…the one you hired to live with me?”

“Honey, I never hired anyone to live with you. Are you sure you’re

alright?”

The doctor came in with a chart and walked over to me.

“We’ve put you on a drip to get you hydrated and gave you a little

something for the nausea. I’ve scheduled the OB/GYN too visit this

afternoon.

“For what?”

“To make sure everything is okay with the baby.”

“I’m…pregnant?”

“Yes. You didn’t know?”

A shimmer of light from the hospital window suddenly catches my eye. I turn

my head to look out and instead of my own reflection I see…Jason’s. He is

smiling, surrounded by a glowing blue light. I smile back.

“Adriana, what are you smiling at? Are you okay? Who’s this Constantine?”

I look down and place my hands on my stomach, take a deep breath in and

exhale. Jason was Constantine and Constantine was Jason. He left me one

last thing before he died; a piece of himself, someone to love, a reason to

live.

“Marcus,” I said proudly.

Women of the Night

Women of the Night 

Nobody knew about the hidden tunnels underneath our houses. Nobody, except my best friend Janet and me. She lived next door and late at night when my parents fell asleep I would sneak down to the basement and squeeze through a crack in the rock wall to where the tunnel was. Janet would meet me halfway and we’d sound out a quiet but distinctive “caw” if we heard the other coming, just to make sure it wasn’t anyone else. We’d explore the tunnels a few hours each night trying not to venture too far in fear that we might get lost or worse, get caught.

My home life was pretty normal for the most part, but Janet had it real bad. Her father was an abusive alcoholic, which made her mother emotionally unavailable. She drowned herself in wine and Prozac and seemed to resent having Janet. She prayed for the day her mother would take her away from that hell, to a better place. It wasn’t just at home where Janet suffered.

Because we lived in a small town, everyone knew her and her father. He was the town drunk, the one everyone laughed at. It was only a matter of time before Janet started getting the same glares in school that her father got in town. It made me angry when people would talk about her behind her back. They didn’t know her they way I knew her. She wasn’t her father and I hated that she had to take on his burden. Even though I would miss her, I would lay awake at night and pray that her mom would take her away from here. Every morning I’d look out the window to see if her mom’s car was still in the driveway and every morning it still was.

But one night, while exploring the tunnels, something happened that changed our lives forever. We ventured out farther than usual when suddenly Janet tripped on something and fell to the ground. It was a handle secured to a trap door in the floor of the tunnel. Together we pulled it open, flashing our lights into a dark hole with a ladder fastened to the side.

Normally, we wouldn’t let even the most curious of places put us in harm’s way, but on the inside of the trap door there was an engraving that took my breath away. It had two women on it holding hands surrounded by butterflies. There was an inscription between them that read:

The women of the night 

Descend to meet us 

As one we are strong 

They cannot defeat us 

Descend to the clerk 

And if you must, take your share 

Whatever you need to get out of here 

One day to return and put back what we gave 

So another woman of sorrow we can help save 

We had to know what was down there, but it was dark and we could hear something or someone moving below.

“I’m scared Janet,” I said.

“I am too, let’s just go home,” she said.

What kind of home would she be going back too? This was our chance we had to take it.

“I’m going down anyway,” I said.

I descended the ladder until I hit the bottom and walked slowly down the dark tunnel with Janet close behind, gripping my arm tightly. I heard a “clink” and then a creak and I flashed my light in the direction of the sound. I thought I saw someone slip through the wall but I couldn’t be sure. Then suddenly, there on the floor was a toy chest. It was open and it was full of money and jewelry. There had to be millions of dollars, I couldn’t believe my eyes! There was another carving on the toy chest with an inscription that read:

TAKE ONLY WHAT YOU NEED 

So we did. We took off our sweatshirts and filled them up with a few thousand dollars each and took off up the ladder through the tunnels and back to our meeting place. I gave my share to Janet.

“I can’t take this from you,” she said.

“Yes you can and you will. I love you my dear friend, but I pray to God you never have to come back here,” I said.

The next morning I woke up and her mother’s car was gone. It never came back. Years later, when I was home visiting my parents for the holidays, I was sleeping in my bed when I swore I heard a faint “caw” followed by a “clink” in the basement.

The End

Below were the guidelines for the contest:

September Short Story Contest 

Setting: an exotic, private, or long-lost meeting place 

3 Highlights: 

A door that’s locked (an attic, a closet, a cellar, an abandoned ship, etc.) 

A sketch, outline, drawing, or engraving 

Something that is found or discovered 

Theme: COURAGE 

“Courage is a settled disposition to feel appropriate degrees of fear and confidence in challenging situations.” – from Aristotle