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She
couldn’t account for the emptiness she felt here in the heart of the beast.
Success, bright lights, noisy friends music, something always happening,
happening all so fast, but something was lacking, she yearned for something
solid, something that was always there, unchanged.
The decision was made, all
had been arranged, she was going
home.
Outside
the window the scenery changed quite suddenly, where before all stood shoulder
to shoulder, now all was quite isolated. The
winter evening drawing in made it seem all the more desolate, cut off.
She felt her first tingle of panic.
She
got off the train deriding her foolish imagination, how absurd, feeling quite
thrilled now and looking forward to the short walk from the station to her home
through the woods. Ahh the woods,
how exciting, she was already feeling that she was embarking on a small
adventure.
Standing
at the mouth of the woods looking down it’s long black throat she took her
first steps in and was slowly consumed. It
was dark now, with the moon making brief appearances through the branches,
serving as a tease not a comfort. It
would be fine if she could focus her sight to tunnel vision, but all to the side
and behind was alive. The next
tingle of panic and this made things worse, the path narrowed, the branches
closed in and the sound of a thousand flick knives echoed,
the trees had their claws out, not just a tingle of panic now, run.
She
escaped, spat out as it were, out of breathe, she stood outside her own front
door. Then she was inside with the
family, disappointed, well yes. It wasn’t the fanfare welcome she expected or needed.
Oh it was very warm, and they were very eager to hear about all her
tales, but she felt ill at ease, she imagined herself being suffocated, what
with all the plans they were making for her to stay for not just a few days, but
maybe a week or two or more, ignoring her protestations like she wasn’t there,
and all the while watching her with those greedy possessive eyes.
When
it was time for the good hearty meal she was relieved, she was hungry, um umm
her mothers cooking, the meat had always had a unique taste to it, she must ask
her for the secret.
Seated
at the table opposite both her sister and her mother she watched them, heads
down, they were so intent on eating, such concentration, she herself took a few
bites but found inexplicably that she had lost her appetite.
Every now and then they would look up and catch her eyes, making her feel
embarrassed, guilty, but she couldn’t stop watching them, it was fascinatingly
ugly, from fork to mouth then back to plate never ending, the meal was over.
That
night the silence was unbearable, her sleep disturbed by the door being opened,
or was she still asleep?, all so confusing.
Opening her eyes she looked up to see a figure hovering at the foot of
her bed, was it her sister? All was still silent, her fear stopped her from
calling out and the figure floating out.
She
was beside herself now, she flunk the bedclothes off and ran down the stairs
turning on lights as she did so. Something stopped her in her tracks at the door to the front
room, she heard the hushed bickerings of a tug of war, “It’s mine, it’s
mine, give it to me”. She opened
the door and there was her mother on all fours with her sister pulling at
something raw and dripping red. They
both looked up and caught her with their eyes, pinned her to the spot, they were
coming closer and closer, “Take me back, take me back”
Look
to where you have arrived not to where you have come from
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