Prompt: Darkness

Constructive criticism is always welcomed!

Raveek tried not to show his impatience as his younger sister, Lareen, looked at herself in the mirror. She brushed her hair yet again and pursed her lips.

“You look fine,” he told her.

“Today is a big deal. I want to look better than fine,” she countered. She put on more makeup and then appeared to take it off with a small rag.

He sighed and sat down on her bed. Today may have taken him an extra five minutes to get ready. Maybe. “We’re going to be late at this rate. You look beautiful without the makeup. If you look any more beautiful, people will think you’re a goddess.”

She smiled at him in the mirror. “Won’t you make your future wife happy?”

“Yes, yes, now can we go?”

“Help me put my necklace on first.”

He stood up and went to her. She lifted her hair up as he put the necklace on from behind. He was surprised to see that the top of her head was now at his chin. “When did you get so tall?”

Laughing, she turned to face him. “This country is doomed if you are to ever rule it. You’re so oblivious.”

“I’m not oblivious, I-”

She raised her hands in defeat and motioned to her new shoes.

“Ah. See. I noticed things were a bit off.”

“The people shall thank you.” She laughed and made her way to the door. “Are you coming? You’re going to make us late just standing there.”

He hated how she always made it his fault somehow. He escorted her down the stairs and to the main hall. Passing the windows, they could hear the cheering outside from those who could not make it inside.

“How many people do you think are out there?” Lareen asked.  

“Sounds like a lot. I didn’t think there were this many people this far north. Maybe they haven’t let anyone in yet.”

“There you two are!” their mother said. “I was starting to think you were going to miss the announcement!” She swooped in on them and began messing with their clothes and hair.

“We look fine,” Raveek muttered before catching his sister’s glance. “I mean, better than fine.”

“Yes, we do. I’m just … it’s all so exciting, isn’t it?” Her cheeks were flushed.

Raveek glanced at his father. Was he sweating? It wasn’t that hot. Autumn was here, and there was a definite chill in the air from the wind blowing through the open windows. “Are you nervous?” he asked his father.

“Well, son, I have to say, it’s not every day this happens to me. I guess maybe. Err, I’m fine.” He cleared his throat. “Are we ready?”

Raveek nodded, and since everyone was in agreement, his father gave notice that they were ready. His father took his mother’s arm to escort her. Raveek turned to his sister to do the same only to find her chewing on her lip. It was a nervous habit of hers. “My lipstick!” she realized before searching her pockets.

“You look beautiful,” he reassured her. “It’s not smudged.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

The crowd in the next room began to cheer as the door opened. His parents exited the hall, leaving the two siblings alone.

“Okay,” Lareen said. “We can’t keep them waiting.”

Taking her by the arm, Raveek escorted her into the next room. All around them were various neighbors and people who had come to see the ceremony. Today was a significant day, one that he knew would be written in the history books. His father had just become the first elected official in his country. The people were no longer stuck with dictating families ruling for centuries; finally they had a say in it all.

Raveek and his sister took their place beside their parents as his father addressed the people.

“Today is a glorious day. We, the ordinary people, have decided who rules this country, and we have decided that it is a joint effort. We will no longer have to bow down to the elite aristocracy that once tried to destroy us. Instead, we will move forward, together, into a new age of peace.

“Make no mistake: this day did not come easily. We all know many suffered to get us here today. We lost many wonderful individuals in our fight for freedom. To those who knew them personally, I apologize for your loss. I wish you peace in knowing their lives were not sacrificed blindly. I fought alongside some of them and knew a few personally. It’s in their memory that I am here today to oversee this country in a way that keeps us all united as one. I learned from the mistakes of those who came before me, and I will continue to learn from all of you standing with me. Let’s take a moment to remember those who now watch over us.”

Raveek bowed his head. He remembered the nights that his mother and sister cried after his father went to war. He had consoled both of them until his father returned. While Raveek did not complain about being the man of the house in his father’s stead, he was relieved when his father returned to take the position. It had been far more strenuous than he had ever imagined, and it gave Raveek a new appreciation for him.

“Thank you,” his father said to the crowd. “Today is a celebration for our country and our people, both living and dead. To freedom and the brighter days ahead!” He raised a glass to the crowd. They had glasses too, though Raveek hadn’t noticed any of that when walking into the room. Someone handed him a glass, which he raised before taking a drink.

The crowd began to cheer again; it didn’t seem real. Raveek had never imagined a fate such as this for his family, especially once his father went to war. But here they were.

His parents were dancing, people were celebrating, and Lareen was talking to her friends. Raveek noticed a pretty girl staring at him. Was that a blush? Perhaps he should go see for himself. He made his way to her with a large smile on his face. She was smiling too. She opened her mouth to say something.

And screamed.

“Are you okay?” he asked. Was he that repulsive?

She screamed again and ran.

Suddenly everyone seemed to be screaming at once. People were running away. He turned around. His father was lying on the ground in a puddle of blood. His mother was at his side screaming and trying to hold him.

“No…”

The man behind her stabbed her with a sword before Raveek could say anything else. The surviving bodyguards were in the middle of a sword fight with individuals that looked as though they could have been friends in different circumstances. Why were they fighting?

Lareen!

He searched the area where he had last seen her. There was no body. That has to be a good sign, right? He rushed outside where more bodies laid on the ground. “Lareen!” he shouted. “Lareen! Where are you?”

His mind began to conjure images of her sprawled out on the ground covered in blood like his father or stabbed in front of him like his mother. He heard metal against metal somewhere behind him. His mind started picturing a sword plunging through his chest or severing his head.

Stop, stop. This isn’t helping. Pull yourself together! Dad would expect better of you!

He rubbed his face. Were those tears? Snap out of it, Raveek! He tried to tell himself that in his father’s voice, but it only sounded like a scared little boy. He wished he had a weapon.

“Lareen!”

She’d go home. She’d know to meet me there. Right? Unless she-

No. Don’t go there. She’s alive.

He didn’t remember walking, but somehow he had covered some distance from the newly reclaimed castle where his parents had … had what?

What if they weren’t dead? The thought sickened him. What if I just abandoned them to die? Do I go back? What if Lareen is still in the castle too?

He turned towards the castle. “No, no, no!” He watched helplessly as the lower level of the castle began to burn. The flames claimed the wood just as they would claim his parents and his sister if they were still alive inside.

He vomited.

Now what? He forced himself to clean off his face with a handful of leaves. People still shouted and screamed in the distance. Somewhere someone was defending themselves with a sword. He wanted to shout Lareen’s name again, but he realized now that it was too dangerous.

The fire at the castle had swallowed up the darkness around it. Without it, it would be difficult to see. He looked up at the empty sky. Had the moon turned on them too? Fireworks began to explode in the sky above the castle. The fire had found them too.

He had no clue what those responsible would do next. If they found his sister… He stopped the thought before it could completely form. He watched the fire burn higher for a moment before slipping into the darkened safety of the forest. If Lareen had headed home, it was only a matter of time before someone found her.

He only hoped he could reach her first.

Prompt: The Walking Dead ‘Say the Word’ – “Rick struggles to cope.” @ Brigit’s Flame

Rick could feel the predator staring at him in the darkness. He wasn’t sure where the monster was, but he knew it was stalking him. He had been trying to fall asleep when he felt its presence, and now he was worried about moving in fear of provoking the beast into sinking its teeth in his vulnerable flesh.

What was he going to do?

He looked at his girlfriend sleeping beside him. He envied her ignorance to the lurking danger. He was so exhausted – if only the monster would kill him instead of toying with him like this night after night. How long had it been since he had a full night’s sleep?

He shifted his leg to get more comfortable and instantly regretted it. The sharp pain from teeth piercing his leg made him jump up from the bed.

“Chester, no!” he snapped as he tried to pry his girlfriend’s annoying cat from his calf. As if in spite, the tabby gripped his leg with his claws and bit down harder.

He managed to pry the cat loose as quietly as he could and hoped he wasn’t bleeding as he got back into bed. Chester had been attacking him constantly every night since he had moved in with Maria. He looked at the clock. Eleven pm. Tomorrow he’d be going to work with no sleep again, joining the walking dead who fed on caffeine.

This was ridiculous. He needed to tell Maria her cat had to go or he would!

What was he thinking? He couldn’t say that! She’d pick her stupid cat and kick him out faster than he could say Chester. He wasn’t about to tell her that he couldn’t handle a fluffy tabby cat either. He was a man. He could figure this out.

Maybe Chester was just trying to be the alpha male and was fighting to defend his territory. Did cats even work that way? He wasn’t sure, but he knew Google would know. He reached for his phone on the end table, but Chester grabbed hold of his arm and began biting. Rick jerked his arm away, and Chester seized it again, holding on with his teeth and kicking at it with his back legs.

“Damn it, you stupid cat!”

He tried shaking him free, but Chester tightened his grip. Rick grabbed one of Chester’s toys with his free hand and tossed it. Just like that, the cat vanished. Rick sat down on the bed and sighed. Why did she have to have a cat?

“Rick?” a groggy voice said.

“Hey.” He glanced over his shoulder to his girlfriend and felt the mattress shift.

“What are you doing up?”

“Had to go to the bathroom. Go back to sleep.”

The mattress moved again, and Rick felt Maria put an arm around him. He lied down, and she snuggled up to him before kissing him.

Now would be a good time to tell her. “Maria-”

“Hmm?”

No there had to be a better way. He was a man. Chester was a cat. He could outsmart the stupid thing. He just needed a plan.

“What’s wrong, Rick?” She gave him a gentle kiss on the cheek.

That’s it! The plan was so simple! Why hadn’t he thought of it before?

He kissed her back, letting the intensity grow until neither was thinking of sleep. She began to remove her shirt. Time to begin phase two.

“Your cat is staring at us,” he said.

“What?” She started to laugh.

“He’s staring.”

“The lights are out. How can you tell?”

“I feel him staring. Can’t you kick him out?”

She laughed. “I never kick him out of my room.”

“I can’t focus with him staring.”

“Focus? I’ve never known you to get distracted when it comes to this.” She laughed again.

“Just kick him out so I can completely focus on you.” He gave her a long, passionate kiss. It must have persuaded her because she quickly put the cat in the hallway and shut the door afterward.

Rick couldn’t help but grin. He managed to get rid of the annoying furball and he was getting laid.

It was the best sex he’d had in a long time. When they were finished, he lied down on his back and closed his eyes. Finally, he could sleep. And after all that exercise, he had certainly earned it.

Creak.

The door! He quickly sat upright. “You let him back in?”

“Of course I did. Chester always sleeps in here with me.”

The tabby meowed and rubbed up against Maria’s leg before glaring at Rick. Stupid cat knew exactly how to push his buttons. He was surprised it hadn’t stuck its tongue out at him. He continued to stare at those golden eyes until Maria turned off the light and lied back down.

“What’s wrong sweetie,” she asked.

“Nothing,” he muttered before lying down. She snuggled up to him again and quickly fell asleep.

Rick strained to listen for Chester in the night. That monster always managed to stay so quiet and caught him off guard every time he attacked. Maybe this time it’d be different; maybe he would leave him alone. Maybe Chester had already had his fill of blood for one night.

Maria rolled over and away from him. He felt the cat jump onto the bed. The moonlight shining in through the window provided just enough light to make out the dark form climbing over her.

The predator was stalking its prey. Again. Rick knew then that his wish for sleep was pointless once more.

No! He couldn’t take it anymore. He was exhausted. He wanted – no craved – sleep. His boss and some of his coworkers had started to notice him dozing in the office. He was determined to win this round; no cat was going to control him. He was a human; surely he was more superior. He contemplated his next attack, but he was too late.

Chester pounced on his foot. Rick pulled away quickly, but the cat was even more determined now. They wrestled. and at one point, he stood holding the tabby in his arms.

Enough was enough!

He somehow freed himself from the beast’s jaws and claws and hurried to the door, shutting it forcefully behind him. Maria could deal with Chester’s fury for once.

He collapsed onto the couch exhausted and perhaps bloodied and scarred. He didn’t care though. He was finally going to sleep in peace. Not even the light shining in from the moon and the street could keep him awake. He closed his eyes, already half dreaming of sleep.

“MEOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOW!”

Rick rolled over and tried to cover his ears.

“MEOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOW.”

How could something so little be so damn loud? “Shut up, Chester!” he yelled through the door.

“MEOOOOOOOOW!”

There was a thump against the door. Rick opened his eyes as his heart skipped a beat. Was Chester trying to open the door? No cat could do that, could they?

“MEOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOW!” Thump.

No. It was impossible. Cats didn’t have thumbs. Maria would get him to shut up eventually; even she couldn’t sleep through that sound. He was safe. He shut his eyes again.

“MEOOOOOOOOOW!” Thump. Thump. 

The cat was scratching her nice wooden door. Rick didn’t care. Sleep was coming. Everything was getting darker, his thoughts were fading. He had finally won!

Creak.

Rick opened his eyes. He picked up his head and looked over at the door.

It was open.

Disclaimers:

No cats or humans were harmed in the making of this story.

All characters are fictional and any similarities to real people, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

I hope you enjoyed this short story. I love feedback on my writing, so please don’t hesitate to point out anything you like or think needs improving. I don’t watch the Walking Dead so I took the plot elsewhere.

Don’t forget to check out the other entries and vote for your favorite by Thursday at 11:45 pm.

Your Turn

What are your thoughts on this story? In particular, how did you feel about the ending and pacing? Are the pictures distracting or do they add to the story?

Do your animals bug you when they sleep?

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Prompt: 

Word Count: 399

Constructive criticism is always welcome.

You hear the sound of an incoming text message and look down at your phone for no more than 30 seconds, but it’s all that it takes to crash into another car. You see the woman you hit passed out against the steering wheel with blood pouring from her head.

You’re rushed to the hospital and learn you will need to stay a few days. You lie in your new bed and watch the news. You see the woman’s face from the car and turn up the volume. Reporters say she’s unconscious and has a traumatic brain injury; the doctors don’t think she will survive.

The guilt begins to overcome you; how can you make this right? You ask for a mirror to see your own injuries, but you don’t recognize the face looking back at you.

Days later, a friend drives you home from the hospital because you can’t stop picturing broken glass and the eighteen-year old you hit long enough to sit behind the wheel. You start taking a bus or asking for rides whenever you need to leave home.

You see a doctor for anxiety. You consider speaking to a therapist. Weeks pass, and you still can’t get behind the wheel without seeing her face.

You go on like this for months, the guilt never vanishing. You sell your car because you’re certain you’ll never be able to drive again. You tell everyone you meet not to text and drive. You wish that you could stop feeling so guilty.

It’s nearly half a year before her face is on the news, but this time it’s because she’s finally going home. She’s learning to walk again; she’ll be okay. You are relieved that she survived, but you still feel guilty. You should have been in that hospital bed all this time, not her.

You imagine apologizing to her, and she pats you on the shoulder as she says, “I forgive you.”

Even in your daydream, you don’t believe her.

Before bed, you look into the mirror again. You acknowledge that it was an accident. Thankfully she lived, and it ended as well as it could. You realize now that you don’t need her forgiveness so much as your own.

“I’m sorry,” you say to yourself, and a little bit of the guilt fades away. It’s a small step, but it’s progress. Perhaps you’ll learn to drive again too.

Read the other entries and vote for your favorite until 11:45 PM EDT on Thursday, August 6th.

Constructive criticism is always welcome!

Four years, eleven months, and twenty days
since my life has been on pause.
Seven days until I can push play
I’m not sure I’ll make it.
The other prisoners know it’s coming,
and they’re doing their best to provoke me into a fight
“Stealing my time” they call it.
If I fight them, I’ll be punished
put into solitary confinement
and my seven days will be replaced with months.

Four years, eleven months, and twenty-one days
I’ve made it this far, I can make it six more days, right?
“What are you looking at, bitch?”
everyone seems to ask at every turn
No one is supposed to walk away from that word
I’m meant to fight them and show them that I am a man
but I’ll forfeit my time.

Four years, eleven months, and twenty-two days
since my life was stolen
A year since my girlfriend took our kids, sold the house,
and moved in with her new boyfriend
so there’s nothing left once I leave here
There’s no one waiting for me at home
no home to even speak of

Four years, eleven months, and twenty-three days
they’ve been asking me “What will you do when you leave here?”
and I promise never to steal again
even though I’ve never stolen before

Four years, eleven months, and twenty-four days
when my attorney finally tells me that the courts know I’m innocent
“A computer glitch or human error” he says
“We’re sorry” “so sorry” “oops”
Apologies left and right as if each sorry could remove a day

Four years, eleven months, and twenty-five days
when they give me my things from day one
I barely remember the clothes I wore here
but I see the stain on my shirt and
recall the ice cream my daughter spilled on me
as we walked through the park.
I remember her laughter.
She’s not waiting for me at home
No one is.

Four years, eleven months, and twenty-five days
for this?

If you enjoyed this story, consider voting for it and the other entries at Brigit’s Flame starting on Monday, July 27th.

If you enjoy this story, consider voting for it at Brigit’s Flame & reading the other entries!

Three, six, nine
The goose drank wine
The monkey chewed tobacco
On the streetcar line

I remember my little girl singing those words when she jumped rope outside. I would watch her from my spot on the steps, and I wished I could jump too.

But dolls can’t jump.

I watched her as she slept. I smiled as she dreamt and wished I could dream too.

But dolls can’t dream.

I stayed by her side when she was afraid of the monster under her bed and the shadows in the room. I tried to whisper comforting words.

But dolls can’t whisper.

I wanted to scream when he came. I wanted to wake her as he snuck in through the window and pressed his hand down on her face to silence her.

But dolls can’t scream.

I want to tell you now, officer, that he was 6 foot 3 with a long beard and red hair. It was the man we saw at the park two days ago. Her mother will remember him.

But dolls cannot speak.

The line broke
The monkey got choked
and they all went to heaven in a little row boat.

Word count: 145

Constructive criticism is welcomed!

I put the car in park and walk up to my childhood home that’s now for sale. The tree in the front calls to me. I stare up at the knothole that I used to think was the gateway to Narnia. It reminds me of To Kill a Mockingbird and summertime and the tree house I wanted to build but never did. As a sapling, this tree walked all over the yard while my mother tried to find the perfect place to plant it.

I remember the sweet neighbor who gave me this tree, too, and how she was more than a neighbor; she was family. She was also the first person I lost to death. As my fingers brush against the familiar feel of oak, I can almost see her face and hear her laughter again.

If only I could uproot the tree and take her with me.