Short Story ~ The Flowers ~ NL ~ 18

The Flowers

Friday mid-mornings were usually slow at the downtown café. Everyone was at work and the staff took the time to wash the glass windows and doors, sweep the front walkway, and tidy things on the inside. The plants in the café were well looked after. Kate, took the time to regularly water and prune so that they happily thrived amongst the coffee lovers who regularly visited.

The theme was homey. The furniture didn’t match, but it was comfortable. There were padded sitting chairs, and a cushioned bench that ran along the wall with tables accompanying them. The orange begonias sat on a mid-height shelf and overlooked the room, right next to the geraniums. A young couple walked in and sat on the purple sitting chairs with their coffee. “What a sweet couple,” said Begonias, “They must be here on holiday for I don’t believe I’ve seen them before.” “Wow, you remember everyone that comes here, Begonias!” said Geraniums. He was easily impressed.

With a proud chuff, Begonias replied, “Well, I have been told I’ve got a good memory and can tell many things about folks that come through.” A friendly, gruff chuckle came from the ceiling where a fluffy old Boston Fern hung in a basket. “Now, Begonias, whether what you say is true or not is another story,” he said playfully. Begonias huffed her petals a bit and said, “I will have you know, Mr. Fern, that everything I say is absolutely true! My opinions are based on my pure, unfiltered thoughts without any influence or outside alteration!” Hibiscus in the corner said in a calming voice, “Oh Mr. Fern, must you tease her so? She really is one of the most honest blooms to ever grace us with her company.” She was always conscious of everyone else’s emotional status; a sort of mothering peacemaker.

“Heh heh. Now, you know, Miss Hibiscus, I was just ruffling her leaves a bit, no harm intended, of course,” said Mr. Fern in a slightly more apologetic tone, but still with a hint of jest. Begonias was indeed ruffled and let out a little quiver of annoyance. The white Calla Lilly sat quietly in the corner. She rarely spoke much anymore. Geraniums, being the curious young fellow that he was, noticed it. “Mrs. Calla Lilly, ma’am. Why haven’t you been speaking much these days?” he asked her. Calla Lilly drooped a little in response, but she didn’t have the energy to respond. Begonias, Hibiscus, and Fern seemed to droop at her lack of response. Geraniums, not understanding why the mood turned somber, asked, “What’s wrong with her? Why is everyone sad?”

The plants quietly drooped even more at the question. After a few moments, the Boston Fern broke the silence and said, “You see, young sprout, there comes a time in a plant’s life when-“ “She’s withering!” broke out Begonias in sobs, “She’s going to leave us, our dear Calla Lilly!” Geraniums was horrified. He had only just sprouted himself, and he had never experienced withering. How could the Calla Lilly leave them? She was part of their family! The Boston Fern shook his fluffy leaves and groaned at Begonias saying, “Begonias! You don’t have speak so to the little fella!” Begonias, huffy again, retorted, “Hmpf, I see no reason to coddle him. This will happen to all of us at some point!” The Fern quipped back, “But you didn’t have to be so dramatic, woman!”

Hibiscus, being the natural peacemaker of the group, tried to placate the two plants when Geraniums exclaimed, “Her petals, they’re on the ground! She’s… she’s…” At this point everyone fell silent. Geraniums, shaken in surprise, said quietly, “We never got to say goodbye.” Hibiscus and Begonias did not respond but looked towards the Boston Fern.

The plants remained quiet that day. They did not talk throughout the afternoon as the café goers came in and out, drinking their coffees and teas, admiring the plants on the shelves but looking forlornly at the old pot in the corner with the withered Calla Lilly. As she was closing up the shop, Kate found the pot it its state and said, “Oh dear. She’s gone again. Ah well, we’ll have her back in no time.” Geraniums, who always listened but never always understood, couldn’t help but wonder at her words. Kate carried the pot out with her as she locked up the café.

That night in the dark room, when the moon was high in the sky, Geraniums was wide awake. He whispered, “Mr. Fern… Mr. Fern, are you awake?” There was no response. Again, Geraniums tried to ask, “Mr. Fern, can I please talk to you?” The Fern sighed with a limp swing of his stems. “What is it, boy?” he asked lifelessly. “What did Kate mean today when she said that Misses Calla Lilly would be back?” Geraniums queried. “Ah, she probably meant that Calla Lilly would be replaced with another flower,” said the Fern tiredly. “Really?” asked Geraniums, “It sounded like Misses Calla Lily would be coming back to us!” “That, m’boy, would be really something, wouldn’t it?” said the Fern with a small halfhearted chuckle.

The next morning, Kate came in with the same pot, but it was empty, or so they thought. Hibiscus figured, “Surely Kate wouldn’t just put an empty pot of soil here. There must be a bulb or seed planted. We’ll have a new young sprout soon!” Everyone, even the Fern, cheered up at the news and everyone felt enlivened. The days passed, and a small green shoot began inching out of the soil. As the time went by, a small white bloom appeared and one day, when Begonias and Hibiscus were commenting on a café customer’s hat’s floral arrangement and the Fern and Geraniums were deep in discussion of soil moisture levels, a small voice spoke out, “Hello all! Great to be back, isn’t it?” Everyone turned towards the little open bloomed Calla Lily in shock.

Geraniums was the first to ask, “You came back? What do you mean?” The little Calla Lily giggled and said, “Oh you all, it’s what Calla Lilies do! We come back! As long as we’ve got good gardeners, we never really go away, we bloom anew!” Everyone looked at the old Fern. He laughed and said loudly, “Well, Calla Lily, you could have told us! Instead you just let us moan and groan over you somethin’ awful!” The Calla Lily laughed as well and said, “Oh, Fern, you know I wouldn’t leave you without saying goodbye. I knew I was coming back. We’ve been the longest of friends ever since Kate started bringing plants in to the café.” “Indeed, young lady, as I can now call you,” said the old Fern, “But next time you feel yourself about to be absent for a bit, could you please give us a warning?”

“Oh, you old green basked of fluff, can’t you just be happy that she’s back?” asked the huffy Begonias. The Hibiscus chimed in, “Yes, Mr. Fern! Let’s just be happy our dear Calla Lilly is back!” Contentedly, Geraniums looked around at his fellow plants and said, “I’m glad everyone is back.” As the plants continued their conversations, and the café people continued to come and go. Kate wiped the tables as the left and took the orders of the new comers. They admired the fresh orange Geraniums, the stately Boston Fern, the vibrant Hibiscus, the luscious Begonias, and the renewed Calla Lily slowly growing tall and strong yet again.

By: Naomi Lea

Short Story~Climbing out the Nursing Home Window~~AF~17

                “Medley.  How are you holding up dear.”  Stanza asked handing her a tissue.

                “Fifty-five years.  Fifty-five years of caring for this man and he’s gone.  Just like that.”

                The girls pulled her into a hug.  By “the girls” I mean Stanza, Capella, and Carol.  They met in college.  A bunch of band girls who had become fast friends and somehow managed to stay close throughout the years regardless of where their careers and husbands took them.  They kept talking about moving in together all their lives, but it never worked out.  It always seemed like someone was getting married, someone didn’t want to quit their job just to have to find another, someone was in the wrong country…..  Then when they all got married all their husbands thought it was kind of a weird idea.  But now, everyone was widowed except Carol.  Ironic, because Carol used to joke about killing Medley’s husband when she became a widow so they could grow old in a nursing home together.  Medley would always tell her that her kids would love her entirely too much to ever put her in a nursing home. 

               

                A few weeks after the funeral, Medley’s children broke it to her that they were going to have to put her in a nursing home.

                “You can’t put me a nursing home George!”  She shouted.  “I fed you!  I clothed you! I paid for your education!  You ungrateful little chicken s***!”

                “Mom.  I appreciate all those things and you know that.  But I have a wife, two kids, and I’m working on my Ph.D.  I can’t keep driving two and a half hours for your so-called emergencies.”

                “So-called?  My emergencies are real!”

                “Mom, you called me down here to open a pickle jar.”

                “Well, I was working on a recipe that called for pickles!  Your dad used to open those for me.”  She started tearing up again. 

                “I would just feel better if you had some people near that could help you.”

                “You can’t make me!  I will go in kicking and screaming!”

                Well,…she couldn’t really kick as she was in a wheelchair, but she did go in screaming.  “George you ungrateful wretch!  You were supposed to love me enough to keep me out of one of these places!” As she snatched a little old man’s walker out from underneath him and hurled it at George’s head. 

                “Mother!  Stop!” 

                “Take me home!”  She said as she grabbed at a lady’s cane.

                “Oh no, you don’t.”  He steered her away and up to the front desk. 

                He smiled at the front desk lady who looked horrified.  “I’ve come to offer you a new resident.”

                “No, he didn’t!”  She went for his neck, but it was just out of reach.

                “Oh well, of course, we would love to have her.  She seems darling.  Let me just check and see if we have any rooms available.”  She fiddled around on the computer a little.  “Oh.  We are all full!  I’m sorry.”

                And the pattern continued.  Until they finally found one that would take on the challenge.  George was pretty sure they took her because they were desperate for residents.  The place was absolutely depressing.  The walls were this ugly yellow.  You know the darker yellow that kind of looks like it wants to be gold without any of the beauty that comes with gold.  Yeah, that color.  There was no art on the walls.  There was a small TV in the lobby area, but it was an old black and white TV.  George momentarily felt bad about leaving his mother there.  Then he remembered the man with the walker that she tried to kill.   He shook it off and drove away.

                Medley remained in her room alone, all day every day.  They sent in a nurse three times a day to give her a tray of food that she threw across the room.  Once a week a scared looking nurse would come in and give her her sponge bath.  It was never the same nurse.   And so, Medley was forced to be alone with her thoughts, day after day with very little human interaction.  She was absolutely miserable.  She often thought of a time when she wasn’t miserable.  In college, she was never miserable.  The shenanigans of her, Stanza, Carol, and Capella were enough to make sure she didn’t have time to be miserable. 

After about three weeks of this madness, she hatched a plan.  She was going to get the girls back together again.  They were all retired so their jobs wouldn’t miss them.  The only thing standing in their way was that pesky Jacob!  Carol’s husband.  So naturally, her first order of business was to get rid of him.  The trouble was, he was as fit as a fiddle and twenty years younger than all the girls!  So poison would be suspicious.  But the more she was left alone with her thoughts, the more refined her plans became. 

Finally, at midnight, she opened her window, used her bedsheets to lower her wheelchair down to the ground, while supporting herself on the windowsill.  She then threw herself down into it.  Surprisingly she stuck the landing!  This alone gave her hope that her plan would work!  She hotwired one of the night nurse’s cars, rigged up a system to work the peddles and drove to California!  Switching cars along the way to avoid two things, running out of gas and getting caught.

When she reached California, she watched him!  Everywhere he went.  Work, home, kickboxing with Carol, taking Carol on dates.  It seemed that the only place he went that Carol wasn’t with him was work.  So, that settled it! 

She waited for him at an intersection one morning.  Angry cars kept honking at her to go every time the light turned green, but she had to be patient.  He finally got there!  And when his light turned green, she hit the gas and crashed into him, when she was certain he was dead, she sped off!  She switched cars again in the parking lot of some apartments she found.  Luckily, her fingerprints were on none of these cars!  She was smart enough to wear gloves. 

Once her Jacob problem was solved.  She waited for the funeral to be over so that Carol could have her time of morning.  Though of course, she couldn’t go to the funeral.  Because no one knew where she was.  Besides, George might have been at the funeral.  Medley did appear however when Carol went to the bathroom. 

“Carol.”

“Medley!  Where have you been?  George has been looking everywhere for you!”

“I broke out of that awful nursing home he put me in.”

“Well, now where are you living?”

“I’m on the run.”

“That’s silly Medley.  Just come with me.”  And she looked towards the door.   “George is here.  We will figure out a solution.”  But by the time she looked back.  Medley was gone. 

But of course, she wasn’t just gone!  She was sitting on the commode in the handicapped bathroom being very quiet and still.  She was hoping Carol wouldn’t think to check under the stalls because she couldn’t lift her wheelchair off the ground for that long.  But to Carol, she seemed to be gone. 

“Medley?”  Carol looked around.  “I always knew I’d go crazy eventually.”

The next step of the plan was a go!  She robbed a bank.  Of course, she was very careful.  She picked one in a small town where no one knew her, wore a ski mask, colored contacts, and gloves.  After the bank had placed all the money in the bag, she rolled out of there, stole a teller’s minivan and was off. 

Now that she had money, she could hire her favorite hitman, Lance!  Lance was to kidnap all her friends but specifically instructed him not to hurt them!  

He kidnapped Stanza under the cover of nightfall right after a bowling tournament.  Capella, he took after Bible study and Carol was easy.  He just broke into her house as she now lived alone. 

The great thing about hiring Lance as your hitman was, he had a helicopter!  So when he had successfully kidnapped everyone, he flew them to Norway.  There he gently placed them gently in recliners in the living room of a house.  He untied their hands and disappeared. 

Soon after they had taken off their blindfolds, Medley came in the house. “Hi girls!”

“Medley.  What is going on?”  Capella asked.

“I got the girls back together.”

“Ummm did you have to kidnap us to do that?”  said Stanza.

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because all of our plans to live together again have failed!  Something was always getting in our way.  This way none of you could back out!”

“But we’re all retired, and all of our husbands have passed so what would have stopped us?”  Stanza argued.  Carol started to tear up at the thought of her husband.

“Nothing!  That’s why this is the perfect time.”  Medley was all smiles.

“I don’t know what I would have done anyways…”  Said Carol, “now that Jacob is gone.  I can’t believe he was the one to die first.” 

The girls all came over to comfort her. 

“Okay.  Well, we’re already in…,”  said Capella.

“Norway.”

“Norway.  We’re already in Norway.  We might as well make the most of it.  I was sad and pitiful all by myself anyway.” 

“So you’re gonna stay?”  Medley said.  “You’re not going to turn me into George!”

“Well it’s not like you gave us much of a choice you crazy old bat!” said Stanza.

“Yay!  Now we’ve gotta go exploring!  What are we going to see first?” 

They went on discussing what to see and when to go for hours.  They lived out the rest of their lives blissfully running around Norway like tourists and Carol never figured out who killed Jacob.  Said she didn’t have the energy, besides God would take care of them for her.  They were happy until they started to pass away.  Capella went first, then Stanza.  Carol stayed alive until there was only one day til her hundredth birthday. 

When she passed…Medley was again left alone with her thoughts….

By: Acacia Faye 

Short Story ~ Awake ~ NL ~ 17

Awake

By: Naomi Lea

     She sat in a relaxed posture without any tension in her limbs. From behind her closed lids, the blackness became splotched with fuzzy whiteness and melded together into an image. There he was, just as if it were real, Johnny’s face smiled at her. She wanted to ask him where he was and why he was not there waking up with her that morning. 

     Slowly, the image of his face hazed out into the fuzzy white, then into complete black. Olivia was back in her room on the edge of her bed with her toes still dug into her shag rug. She stared at the ground, still thinking of the image she had just seen.

     Suddenly, a noise and buzzing sound emitted from the bedside table. Her mobile phone was ringing. She unfolded her phone and answered with,

"Hello?"

"Hello, Mrs. Berril. It's your nurse, Elisa.  Have you had breakfast today? Remember, you need to take your medicine with your first meal."

"Oh, breakfast?"

"Yes, ma'am. I'll be dropping by around noon, so make sure to have a little breakfast and take your medicine before I come."

"Alright, thank you Elisa, dear."

"Okay, ma'am. I'll see you soon."

     Olivia put the phone back down on the bedside table and stood up. She stepped off the shag rug and slid her feet into her worn slippers. She then shuffled to the hallway and towards the kitchen. She needed to take her medicine. She turned on the kitchen light and squinted her eyes, getting used to the brightness. As she squinted her vision blurred slightly, but as she opened her eyes, the scene around her refocused and the outlines of everything became more defined. She thought of something else she wanted to see.

     She sat turned the lights out again and sat at her kitchen table in the dark. Her feet rested lightly on the hard floor. She traced the outline of the small, four-inch tiles with the tips of her slippers. With eyes closed and body relaxed, she breathed slowly and steadily. This time, when the white splotches came into focus, she was still in the very same kitchen, but light was shining through the windows. Johnny was there at the stove making breakfast with his back toward her. He turned his head over his shoulder and gave her a grin and said, “Honey, do you want your eggs this morning?” Before she could answer, the sound of pattering feet approached at a rapid pace and she felt arms hugging her legs and heads upon her lap. Two little faces looked up at her and excitedly cried, “Mommy! Mommy! We’re up! We’re up!”

     She laughingly gathered them in her arms saying, “Well, I can see that!” and smothered them in kisses, which they heartily returned. Johnny finished transferring the scrambled eggs from the pan to the plate and walked over. He put the eggs in front of her and then picked up both of the six year old twin boys, and snuggled them close. Then he put them down and kissed Olivia on the cheek, to which Olivia replied, “That’s exactly how I like my eggs.” Johnny looked over at the plate and asked, “Scrambled?” She shook her head smilingly and said, “No, silly, with a kiss!”

     Then, when Olivia opened her eyes, she was sitting at the kitchen table just as before, but not in complete darkness. There sunlight was now streaming in through the windows, brightly illumining the room. Remembering that she was supposed to be having breakfast, she decided that she would have some scrambled eggs.

     As she made her breakfast, she heard a knock at the kitchen door. She looked up and saw a friendly face in the door window. Elisa came inside and greeted her with, “Good afternoon Mrs. Berril. I see you’re still working on breakfast. Have you taken your medication yet?”

“No, not yet dear. I don’t much care for that medicine anyways. Do I need to take it? It keeps me from remembering things.”

“Well, Mrs. Berril, I think it would be best. You’re scheduled to have visitors this evening, and it would help if you stayed in the present while they are here.”

“I see. I suppose it would be rude to do otherwise.”

“Yes, perhaps so, ma’am. Let me get your dose for you.”

     Elisa set down her equipment bag and went over to the cabinet where the medicine was usually stored. She took out the pill bottle and shook out three white capsules and handed them to Olivia with a glass of water. Oliva received them and, doing her best to mask her reluctance, took them under supervision. She then asked, “So who is schedule to come see me this evening, dear?” Elisa smiled and said, “The same folks that come as usual, ma’am. Your family.”

     Olivia closed her eyes and sighed. She opened them again with questioning furrowed brows and replied, “Them? Again? Will they always keep coming around? I’m not sure how much longer I can keep up the game. I understand they are grieving, but we are not true family. Wouldn’t it be wrong to continue in this way?”

     Elisa returned the sigh, but hers was quieter. She then looked at Olivia and said, “I think it would be best to continue, Mrs. Berril. You are doing wonderful things for this family. You lift their spirits ever so much whenever they see you. And from what I’ve heard, there will be a new visitor this time, too.”

     That evening, Olivia and Elisa waited together in the kitchen. It was Olivia’s favorite room since the windows let in the most light in the day and had the best view of the moon at night. The sky was turning dusky when they saw a vehicle pull up into the driveway. A man, woman, and two young girls got out of the car. The man went to the backseat and pulled out a car seat and diaper bag. One of girls took the bag for the man, and the other girl helped her with it as they walked up the drive to the house.

     They arrived at the kitchen door and Elisa was there to meet them before they could knock. She ushered them in, girls first, then the woman, and then the man with the car seat, which he put down on the kitchen table in front of Olivia. She looked under the retractable shade of the car seat and saw an infant in a light blue onesie, complete with blue hat, socks, and mittens. When she saw the baby, it reminded her faintly of someone, but she could not recall who.

     The man spoke saying, “Hello, mother. I want to introduce you to our son, Johnny.” The mention of the name startled Olivia. The man could see that it made an effect. His face became hopeful. “Mother, do you remember that name?” He gave a widened glance at the woman, who returned it with equally largened eyes and a smile. He then gathered the girls to him, putting his hands on their shoulders.

     “What a sweet name for a baby boy,” said Olivia with a warm smile. “I think I knew someone with that name, once. And I’m sure he was a lovely person,” she continued. “Unfortunately, I can’t quite put the name to the face from my memories.”

     The man, unwilling to let this opportunity go, tried with, “Well, do you remember my name? I’m Harry. Your boy. Johnny was my father’s name.” He searched her face for a response. She squinted her eyes and examined the man’s face. After a few moments, she shook her head saying, “I’m sorry, I can’t remember ever having a boy named Harry.” The man’s eyes twinged with disappointment as he replied, “That’s alright. Anyways, we’ve come for a little chat. The girls have been looking forward to seeing you all month,” he said as he nudged them forward.

     The girls sat down at the kitchen table, one on either side of Olivia, and looked up at her with sparkling eyes. The taller one spoke first saying, “Violet has a loose tooth that’s been wiggling all week! We’re thinking of how we’re gonna pull it!” Violet, who was only seven and two years younger than her sister, interjected with, “Well, you’re not gonna do it for sure, Ellie!” Olivia laughed and looked at Violet with excited eyes and asked, “So how would you prefer to do it, dear?”

     The girls and Olivia, engaged in their conversation, kept themselves occupied for the next hour while the man, woman, baby, and Elisa spoke at the edge of the room. The man asked Elisa,

“How has she been?” “She’s been alright. She keeps drifting off more, though. She’s on her medication right now, so there shouldn’t be any problem for now,” Elisa responded. The man and woman looked at one another worryingly. The woman finally spoke asking, “Do you think it would be better if she were to stay with us? I’m sure she would find it much more comfortable than staying alone. She seems to enjoy the girls.”

     Elisa shook her head and said, “I’m sorry, Mrs. Berril, but I don’t think that would be a good idea. She can’t remember who you are. To her, you’re not really her family.” The woman nodded her head in acceptance, figuring it was worth a try anyway, though this was not the first time the suggestion was rejected. The man put his arm around the woman and said comfortingly, “I know, Helen. That’s what I want, too. But until then, we can’t stress her out and cause a breakdown. She’s in a pretty precarious place mentally, right Elisa?”

     “Yes, Mr. Berril,” replied Elisa, “The best thing we can do is keep her where she’s comfortable, and that’s right here. I have her latest brain activity reports now. I’ll show you.” Elisa went over to her equipment bag, took out an electronic tablet, and brought it over to Harry and Helen. She showed them an image of a colorful span of a brain outline. Elisa indicated, “This is Olivia’s brain when she is either sleeping, napping, or any activity in which her body is greatly relaxed. That releases her consciousness and her memories. However, this,” Elisa displayed as she showed them a new and moving image, “is her current brain activity. As you can see, it is less colorful and some areas are completely dark. This means she has consciously shut off those areas of her brain and thus her memories. I believe it is a deliberate defense mechanism to shut out mental stress.”

     Harry bowed his head into his hand and softly groaned. Helen put her arms around his and hugged it in support. He knew exactly what his mother was trying to shut out. He did not blame her for not wanting to remember. “So, she only has these memories in dreams. She doesn’t remember anything when she is awake?” he asked Elisa. “That’s right, Mr. Berril. When she’s awake, she’s safe. But, when she is asleep or in her mind’s world, she can see and remember anything,” said Elisa warily. “I try to give her stimulants to keep her awake and active throughout the day and not leave her on her own for too long so that she doesn’t drift off. Unfortunately, she’s trying to block off more and more of her brain functionality. At this rate, she might not be able to remember anything while awake.” Harry, eyes set and hand clasping his wife’s, said, “Well, then, we’ll make sure that she’s as happy as can be while she’s with us.”

     Together, the three watched Olivia and the girls chatting away about school, what they had seen during the car ride, and anything that popped into the girls’ heads. Olivia seemed to enjoy herself, talking as expressively as the children, encouraging them and giggling with them when appropriate. Helen even brought little Johnny over and when Olivia held him, he gurgled happily at her and reached for her long grey hair that shaped her face in wavy locks.

     When it was time to go, the girls hugged Olivia and kissed her cheek saying, “Goodbye Grandma! We’ll see you next time. Love you!” Then they skipped out the door to the drive yelling behind them, “Daddy! Did you unlock the car?” Their father chuckled and beeped the car remote to let them in. Helen gave her a side hug while toting little Johnny and followed the girls out to the car. Harry then went up to her and gave her a hug saying, “I miss you, Mother. I love you.” Then he walked out towards his family without looking back.

     Olivia was exhausted by the time they left, but she felt content. She believed she did a great job of helping that family by pretending to be the grandmother that they lost. She could not even remember when she had first met them. It had been so long since they had been coming every month. At least now they were gone. She could relax alone.

     After she got ready to sleep, she sat on the edge of her bed just like that morning, massaging her toes into the shag rug. Then she got under the covers and went to bed. Once she shut her eyes, she quickly drifted away, sinking deeper into her mind.

     The same blackness enveloped her, but then the white splotches came back and formed images. Johnny was sitting at the kitchen table with his head in his hands and his shoulder shaking. Immediately Olivia rushed over and put her arms around him, caressing him and rubbing his back. She asked him urgently, “Honey, what’s wrong?” He didn’t put his hands down from his face, but she could see the tears leaking out down his cheeks. Again she asked him, “Johnny, why are you crying?” He could only say the words, “Teddy… Teddy… Our poor Teddy…” She heard wails coming from another part of the house. It was Harry sobbing at the top of his lungs, “Teddy! Why did you have to go?!” His undulating cries rang through the house and as he continued his lament.

     Olivia rushed to his room and scooped him in her arms asking loudly with tears welling in her own eyes, “Harry! Where’s Teddy? What happened?” Harry buried his face into shoulder and clung to her, barely getting out the words through his gasps for air, “The car… Daddy didn’t see… no moving…” Olivia froze as the reality of what had happened hit her. The pain started creeping in, slowly infiltrating her entire body, wracking her with constriction that she could not handle. She began to breathe a little faster, then she scooted her grieving son off her lap and darted out of the room. She was filled with this fiery, raging pain coming from her heart that felt like it was exploding like an atomic bomb. She wanted to punch holes through the walls and kick the doors down, but then she also wanted to crumple up in a corner and never come out. She started pacing the hallway outside Harry’s room, then she ran to the kitchen.

     Johnny was still there. His head was now in his arms on the table. “Johnny,” she began, “Did you do this to our boy?” Johnny didn’t move. Again, she asked in a louder voice, “Johnny, did you do this to our boy.” Silence ensued. Increasing in volume yet again and stepping closer, she asked, pleading for an answer, “Johnny, did you do this to our boy?” She grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him, escalating in pitch sounding almost manic, “Johnny! Did you do this to our boy?!” His body was unusually heavy and as she shook him, he slipped from her grip and he fell on the floor. His head hit the tile floor and there was a crack. Blood oozed across the white tiles into the grout from his temple. She stood and stared at the ground, swaying as the blood drained from her head and dizziness overtook her. She felt her legs give and down she went, following Johnny to the cold, hard, reddening floor.

     Olivia opened her eyes and awakened, as usual, without the sound of any alarm. She arose out of bed and swung her feet out from under the covers. It was brighter out, almost mid-morning. She had slept longer than usual. The phone at her bedside rang. It was Elisa who greeted her with, “Good morning, Mrs. Berril. Did you sleep well? Have you had your breakfast and taken your medicine yet?” Olivia smiled and replied, “Quite well, dear. I’m just about to head to breakfast now.” “Alright then,” Elisa said, “I’ll be by around noon to check on you.”

Prose~Coveting Blindness~AF~16

I found her in the kitchen, doing dishes and listening to some old black lady sing about wanting to be blind on repeat.  She had tears in her eyes.  I had never seen my jolly little curly headed roommate cry before.  I didn’t know what to do.  I just stood there for a few seconds and watched her wash dishes.  “What’s wrong Bliss?” 

“I’ll be fine.”  She says.

“Okay.” I sat down for a minute, because you can’t really give a crying woman a hug while she’s frantically cleaning. But I couldn't just sit there so I got up abruptly.  “I’m going to the store.”  I realize that this wasn’t the time to go to the store, but my thought process was, Ice cream fixes everything.  I got chocolate because this seemed like an emergency.

          

  By the time I got back with her ice cream, she had the living room and the kitchen spotless.  I found her in the bathroom scrubbing the tub. “Bliss.  I got you ice cream.  Come sit down, eat some, and talk to me.  This excessive cleaning doesn’t seem to be helping.”

            “No. I’m not done with the bathroom yet.  I still have to finish cleaning the tub, then there is the sink, and the mirrors and the drawers need to be organized and....  I just.  I need everything clean!”

            “It can wait Bliss.  Tell me what’s wrong.”

            “No!”  She snapped.  “I have to clean it.  I needs it to be spotless!” 

            There was a long silence before I spoke, besides the sound of scrubbing and that sad lady singing the song. 

            “Well let me help you.”  I grabbed a disinfectant wipe. 

            “No no no.  You go sit down and watch T.V. in the nice, clean living room.”  She said ripping the wipe out of my hands and shoving me away from the bathroom. 

            So I put the ice cream in the freezer, sat on the couch, and turn on the T.V. like a good girl.  I was starting to think Bliss was catching O.C.D. so I started googling O.C.D. symptoms.  I didn’t know what to do, but I didn’t want to leave her to deal on her own, so I just sat there and pretended to be interested in some documentary about cannibals. 

The song she kept replaying over and over again was officially on my nerves.  It was some old black lady whining, I mean uhhh singing about how she would rather go blind than see her significant other leave her.  I looked up the song, I’d Rather Go Blind by Etta James.  The song made me think Guy trouble?  But I knew it wasn’t guy trouble because Bliss didn’t even date.  I don’t even think I have ever heard her say a guy was cute. Maybe she had a crush on someone for like years and he just got married.  I thought up a million different scenarios while she cleaned the bathtub, the toilet, the mirrors, the walls, the floor…. She even took down the shower curtain and scrubbed it too; this made me more nervous than anything.  Who scrubs a shower curtain?

            A couple hours later, she comes out of the bathroom, red face and sweaty, with hair flying everywhere.  She sits down beside me and sobs.  “There is nothing else to clean.”

            I got up, got two bowls of ice cream, sat back down and handed one to her.  “Bliss.  What are you trying to scrub away?”

            “Dad’s blood.”  She says.

            I was quiet, so she could explain.

            “I dropped by today and he was…he was….  He shot himself.”

            I tried to pull her close to comfort her, but she just sat stiff.  She hadn’t touched the ice cream, but her eyes shifted back and forth between it and the floor.  After a few minutes of uncomfortable silence, she slowly poured the ice cream on the floor and set the bowl and spoon neatly next to it.  She pulled her knees up to her chest and starred at the mess.  

By: Acacia Faye 

Short Story ~ "An Rogha" ~ LbtS ~ 5

An Rogha 

By: LadybytheSea

      There once was a desperate young woman. Stranded on an island after her fishing boat was caught in a terrible storm, Sivney spent her days walking the storm torn beach and across the heathered hilltops hoping to find another soul.  It was on the other side of the island she found traces of people. It gave her hope, but, alas, it was dashed as she found abandoned rotting boats, decaying stone huts full of strange clothing, and dust covered bottles of drinks. It was on that day she knew she was truly alone. The days passed slowly, even with all her busy work of restoring one of the stone huts, walking the isle, and gathering food from the sea. Nothing took away the ache in her.

     Though Sivney began to see the beauty of the island, the isolation was killing her. She tried talking to herself, praying, and even tried talking to the birds and the seals. But, without another human to connect with, she felt it was a pointless endeavor. 

    On the stormy days when she sat idle, her hut became such a horrid prison that even sleep couldn't bring peace. After several days of being held captive indoors, Sivney ran to the beach hoping she could find salvageable wood to make a boat. However, all the things she found were useless. She broke down weeping on the shore letting the tide soak her borrowed clothes. It was when her weeping calmed she heard a strange sound: silence. The island had never been silent before. There was normally the constant sounds of the wind and the waves and the calls of birds and distant seals, but the silence was overwhelming. She looked toward the sea and saw a single seal making its way toward the far end of the beach near the large rocks.When it reached the rocks, she began to wonder. 

      When she was a young girl the elders in her village shared stories of strange creatures called selkies. These selkies were half seal and half human. When the times were right, a selkie would shed its seal skin to be human for a time. The elders claimed there were legends of men who came across female selkies and if they were able to steal their seal skin without its knowledge, they would be able to control it and make it their wife. As long as the seal skin was kept locked away the selkie would stay and love the one who held their skin, but if the selkie were to ever find it, nothing could stop them from taking it and returning to the sea. Not the love of their lover nor the love of their human children could hold them back from their true love and home. Though the elders never said anything about what would happen if a woman stole a female selkie skin, Sivney had to hope it could save her from her fate. With all this in mind she made her way for the seal. As she crept along the dry sand toward the beast her eyes grew as she saw it shed it's skin. The woman who came from the seal hide was beautifully fearsome with a warriors frame, and old scars covering nearly every inch of her brown skin. She moved swiftly, never letting her hide leave her grasp, and took off stark naked in the directions of the huts.  

       Sivney took in a large breath, held it, and let it out in one large huff. She would be completely daft to steal anything from that selkie. She rolled onto her back to look at the blinding blue sky, drinking in the salty air in deep gulps. "I'm completely daft," she said aloud, and then made her way towards the running creature. 

       Luckily for Sivney, she was able to catch up to it, though it had a large lead.