Page 7 of These Eternal Bones
Why should I not display it proudly?
At least when I’m alone.
My heart gives a blasphemous shudder at my own wayward thoughts as I start off toward the creek. For what, I don’t know yet. It's not until I’m there, shivering and covered in gooseflesh, casting alook back at the cottage but refusing the hit to my pride, that I regret not just grabbing a blanket to wrap myself in.
I truly am a wild animal.
Just like he said.
I bend down, palming a large rock with a severe-looking edge. My Anger bubbling along with the hunger and exhaustion in my gut. It’shimI picture when I pelt it into the water. It cools my frustration an inch to pretend somehow, someway, he felt that. To pretend he knows even that if I am to die and starve out here, I have still won.
My arm trembles as I struggle to track the fish through the water, the daylight a mere whisper in the sky now. I headed back to the cottage a long while ago for the blanket, which now drapes around me like a wrap, its dusty ends dancing in the water. A grunt leaves me as I slam the rock down, hope spiking in my chest for a fleeting moment. “I got it! I think I got it!”
My reddened fingers hover above the water, waiting for the sediment to settle enough to see my rock before I jerk it up, my heart dropping to the pebbles under my feet. “One more try.”
I crouch down, straining my eyes, waiting for another fish, although I’m pretty sure I’ve scared off any fish in the next ten miles with the number of times I’ve cursed and thrown this stupid rock. Nothing screamsevery horror story you were toldas a child like the woods at night. I assure myself I didn’t burst through the ground and spiral to the fiery pits of hell upon leaving the grounds of New Eden, so it’s likely the monsters that featured in my childhood nightmares were lies as well, or exaggerations at least.
Wolves who were also men, that would devour your flesh.
Fae who trick and goad you into their realm, only to make you a slave to their whims.
Beautiful, alluring undead. Their hearts and bodies of ice, who survived on the blood of humans.
They came hundreds of years ago, when God first felt the shame of humanity's sin. He created demons on earth to give us a taste of hell. It’s why our forefather, our first prophet, said New Eden was so special, so important. Desolate in the middle of the desert to keep us safe. To keep uspure. There were endless things that terrified me when I stepped foot outside the walls of our home. My first days were spent sobbing and trembling. I hid, waiting for him to drag me back, for the ground to open its maw and swallow me whole. For my flesh, blood, and soul to be devoured by monsters that lived in the shadows.
None of those things happened.
Because he was everything he preached against.
A liar.
A deviant.
And worst of all, a coward.
If given a choice, I would choose the monsters over the man. At least they are honest in their intentions to defile.
Movement catches my eye, a fish making its way around my feet. My breath stops in my chest, and suddenly the surrounding woods seem louder, even in all their silence. My heart whooshes in my ears as hunger burns in my gut. I don’t dare move until the small fish treads deeper out. I hurl the rock, missing by a long shot. The need to scream bubbles in my throat with the desire to stomp, thrash, and wail. Years of silence keep it there, where it festers, bringing tears to my eyes as I quietly gather my wet blanket and head back to the cottage. Not so much as a whimper lost to the night.
The hours that follow drag on like an eternity; not even sleep is a reprieve from the gut-churning hunger. I toss, turn, sniffle, and grumble. Waiting in the pitch darkness as rain pelts the cottage, I stare above me into the dark, willing every creak and bump to go away. My mind strays to places it shouldn’t.
My marital dress that had nearly dried has long been re-wet by the downpour. I couldn’t even bring myself to go get it. Let the wind take it far into the woods so the rats and vermin can use it in their nests.
The bright side is getting-
I choke on a scream as a knock rocks the door, my heart lurching into my throat to cut the sound off.
Everything, even the storm, goes deathly still in the face of such a jarring sound. Fisting the blanket, I tug it to my chin, humming to myself as my pulse whooshes in my ears.
I’m alone.
I’m alone.
It's not real.
There's nobody in the woods.
No….
