New Story

The light was hiding, and mold splattered the walls. The dank smell reminded me of all the times I had spent hiding in our grandmother’s storm shelter in the malicious tornado. The lack of light was due to the fact that the tiny room I was in was window free; no artificial light to even give off an allusion. Cold stone walls surrounded me, and I shivered. Somewhere something fell, sending a bat frantically looking for an escape route. All I wanted was to leave. Yet, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I wasn’t going anywhere for a long time.

I had no idea what time or day it was. Although, guessing by my dehydration and lack of food, it had been at least 24 hours since someone first planted me here, and gave me the supplies and food I needed for my “stay”. No one had been to what I was becoming to know as my dungeon. It reminded me of where the evil witch puts the princess’s less than pretty sister.

Screams began to echo everywhere off of every wall. Nothing I did would shake the torturing please for mercy. Not knowing what to do, I did the first thing that came to mind. Investigate. Crossing the short path from the chair I had passed out in to the door; I turned the knob. And joined the screams.

I woke up in a cold sweat. A feeling of dread hung heavy in the air around my bed. A piece of me would not believe that is was just a dream.

Not wanting to dwell on the subject any longer, I rolled over and surveyed the time. Soothing green numbers stared back at me, four o’ clock. It was too early to do much of anything, but I had to clear my head. A run would have to do.

I tried not to let the shabby house creak beneath my feet, as I tiptoed through the now empty hallway. Mere hours ago this hallway was life. My brothers fighting over who won the last cookie, from the kitchen, while my father paced in his office. Now the house was silent. Deadly.

Stop being ridiculous. It was a dream. You can handle a little nightmare. The boogie man left the underbelly of your bed years ago. I told myself. So with no further ado, I opened the door and welcomed the fresh morning air that came to greet me.

Even though it was early, the woods before me spit out sounds filled with the creatures among us. With my heighted senses, I could smell the deer that had just taken its last breath, and hear the coyote that had ventured onto our land for a snack. Most predators stay away from our hundred acre woods. They may not be able to see us, but predators have that special sixth sense. The one that says, “Hey, something higher than me in the food chain roams these woods, and I’d rather not become the next victim.”

The deer was not the only one seeing its last light this day.

Birds sang their joyful song, blessedly oblivious to the violence below them. I could hear the river that ran from the peak of our property to the edge of Kentucky. All the beautiful things of nature most people never see, or if they do, they do not appreciate, I have had the privilege experiencing every day and night.

Taking it all in one last time, I turned away, and began to remove what I had slept in the night before. Peeling off every layer allowed a new strip of my bare body to become victim of the chill. Shivering, I dropped down onto all fours and welcomed the agony.

Shifting is never a pleasant thing. Every bone in your body must break for things to grow and regroup in a different form. The process itself is a miracle, if not very pretty. Welcoming the pain tends to make things easier. Especially when you know what the end result will be.