teddygit
I browsed my closet to look for decent pants. It's been three weeks since my last visit to our house, and I was running out of pants to wear. Sighing, I grabbed a pair I last wore three years ago--still intact with that hideous four-inch hole on the crotch area. In its pocket is a patch of fabric unpatched--a work my girlfriend never finished.
"You've come to the wrong place, boy," the man says, picking up a hammer.
"What? You are the rafters, aren't you? You'll travel to Long Island." He walks in a circle, opening and closing his mouth. "Going away from this place." His eyes beg.
The man glances at him with disbelief. He scoffs and drops his gaze. "No."
I feel quite lethargic today.
O dear Lord
how I wish mosquitoes were away
how I wish their needles won't prick my skin
won't look for blood
won't sniff for me
How I wish them their deaths
their extinction,
which would be followed by imbalance
the tipping of the scales,
deaths upon deaths
toward an Earth so alien.
O Lord, how I want their throats slit
but maybe if I learn how to swat
then the nature would continue its beauty
as the world spins and spins
until no more.
7 minutes until zero. Glinda glanced at her watch, then to the closed door, then back at her watch. In seven minutes, she would finally meet her soulmate.
5 minutes. The store was starting to close, but she begged her boss to stay open for a bit longer. Reluctantly, he agreed.
3 minutes. She rubbed her wrist impatiently before remembering that she still has her apron. She took it off, dusted invisible dirt on her shoulder, and sighed.
1 minute. Only a minute left. Glinda began pacing. What would he look like? What would she do? What would she say? What if it wouldn't work? What-
"Hey sis, your ride's ready!" A woman from the backdoor called nonchalantly.
"Are you still open?" A man hurriedly opened the front door.
The atmosphere froze. Glinda looked at both of them, confused.
"Did your clock just-" started the man.
"Yeah. It did." The woman smiled.
The two stared at their eyes, corners crinkling, then they laughed. They closed the gap between them and hugged.
Glinda stared, eyes wide.
"'Stairway'?" She held the paper above her head, peering at me questioningly.
"Apparently. Stop using adverbs in sentences; they feel awkward." I snatched the paper back and readied to write.
"Still the uptight little bitch, eh? When will you learn that writing is freeform--there are no rules."
"Like that got you any further."
She snorted. "Please. You think adhering to the rules will get you to the top?"
"Further than you, probably."
She gave a little smile--tight, maybe forced, but a smile. "Just do your goddamn work, kid."
"You declined it?"
"Yeah. Yeah, I did." Lizzie gave a sheepish smile. "Did that surprise you?"
Heather huffed quickly before breaking into a hesitant grin. Two seconds later, her lips turned downward and Lizzie found herself on the ground, cradling her chin.
"Idiot. You--just--you fucking idiot."
Lizzie stared at her, then laughed. Heather's eyebrows shook trying to keep a frown. She failed.
"Dress up, we're going to the church."
My sisters looked up from their iPads and scurried, poking each other and laughing.
"Go take a bath first, I'll finish this up." I told them and forgot about it.
An hour later, they emerged, all colourful tank tops and skimpy shorts. They drowned themselves in their iPads again.
I sighed, then grabbed my towel.
"Our Father, who art in heaven, holy be your name--"
It was a whisper in the empty hall, barely the ghost of a breath. No sound could be heard, not even his walking knees, not even his rustling clothes.
"--thy kingdom come, thy will be done on earth, as it is in heaven."
He shuddered, feeling the heat of light pushing down on his shoulders and the windows watching. The hair on the back of his neck stood up, prickling him.
"Give us today, our daily bread and forgive us our sins--" there was a choked sob, then hurried steps-- "as we forgive those who sin against us.
"Do not bring us to the test, but deliver us from evil--"
He looked up to the face of the man delivered upon him. His body is tainted with whips and scars and faded paint, blown eyes teary with the lack of pupils.
He looked up, eyes equally blown and white, and sighed.
"Amen."
Behind him, he heard a click and felt a light press to his head.
He closed his eyes, slumped and sobbed.
"I bring you salvation."
Then, nothing.
"Go to sleep, little Ann--go to sleep my sweet darling,"
Her soft soothing voice didn't kill the dull sounds of gunfire, the loud wrecking noise made by torn barriers, the blood-filled screams that were everywhere, and the firing of cannons.
Her little lullaby didn't help ease the pain that racked her entire body, didn't stop the blood from oozing from her leg, didn't quell her shaking hands from twitching.
"Close your eyes, my dear Ann, see the stars smile to you,"
Her pleasant song didn't prevent her from gasping when she heard raging footsteps above her, the muffled voice of the shouting commander, and the almost non-existent cries of many soldiers.
It also didn't stop them from kneeling into position, guns held in one hand and a rosary in another. She still heard the little pleas to God--the one that hung above them to be blown away or shot by a bullet.
"Go to sleep, go to sleep, paradise is upon your reach,"
The crying Ann didn't halt the commander from yelling "Fire!", didn't prevent the thunderous gunfire, didn't help them with their uneasy worries and shuffles of doubt.
Nothing she did prevented anything from stopping.
But she kept singing, anyway.
"Go to sleep, go to sleep, tomorrow awaits for you."
It didn't cease her hot tears that slid down her cheeks, the silent sobs that kept her from breathing normally, and the thud of men falling to their knees, one after another. It didn't stop her mind from thinking of the men and their families--the dead and the dying.
The lullaby didn't stop anything at all.
So she tried once more. "Go to sleep, little Ann, go to sleep my sweet darling..."
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