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Monthly Archives: November 2015

Fiction: Hiding at Home (553 words)

We made our way in through the kitchen door—quietly in case there was anyone other than my family somewhere else in the house.  We didn’t see anyone but Nathaniel washing dishes at the basin.  When he saw us, he screamed, dropped a plate into the soapy water with a splash, and ran forward to pull us both into a lopsided hug.

“Stop that,” he muttered, squeezing me a little too tightly around the shoulders, “If I have to wonder one more time if you are alive or dead I swear I will kill you myself—simple as that.”

Nathaniel’s scream brought Angela, my father, Maria and Rose all running into the room.  “What’s going on?” Angela asked us, looking sterner than I’d thought I’d ever seen her.  “We find you two gone, and then we hear what they are saying about you in town? What are we to expect?”

“What are they saying about us in town?” Jack asked as Nathaniel finally released us from the hug, keeping a careful arm around me still as if I might vanish if he lets me go.

“There are rumors that you killed the Soothsayer, River, and that Jack is a member of the terrorist group who seduced you into it.  The Temple isn’t giving any official statement on it, but with the Soothsayer missing and some strange circumstances around you two, I can see why people would be ready to believe it.”  My father said with the even voice of a man reading from a newspaper.

“Daddy?” I said, more scared by his lack of emotion than of anything else he’d said. “Daddy—you don’t believe them, right? You know I didn’t kill the soothsayer, right?”

He took a sigh, and I watched as his shoulders relaxed slightly.  “Now that you say you didn’t, I know you didn’t.”  He came forward and pulled me into a hug, kissing me softly on the top of the head. “But people aren’t going to be so easy to convince.  We’re in trouble here—and we need to make a plan.  I’m pretty sure that this isn’t just naturally going to end well for us.”

Maria, who was still standing at the doorway between the kitchen and the living room suddenly yelled, “Someone’s coming up the walk!”

Nathaniel hurried over passed Maria, looking carefully out the front curtain. “Brothers.  I can’t be sure, but I think one might be Brother David.”

“We can trust David,” I said quickly, “He may act like we can’t but we can, okay?”

“Okay.  But still.  You two should probably—“my father made a vague gesture with his hand, visibly trying to stay calm.

“Hide. Yeah. C’mon.”  I pulled Jack by the arm behind me.  There was a cupboard in the hall perfectly matched to the wall.  Gods only know what my great-great-great grandfather intended when he first built the house—but my father used it to really piss us kids off during games of hide and seek when we were small.  If they didn’t know it was there, there was no way anyone would be able to find it.

Of course, David knew it was there, but once again, I was literally trusting him with my life.  Jack and I locked ourselves in, and we were immediately plunged into pitch black darkness.

 
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Posted by on November 30, 2015 in River's Story

 

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Fiction: My Big Family(447 words)

We get a lot of questions (sometimes accusations) about our family.  After all, you didn’t usually run into families with eleven children anymore.   And—well—it’s hard to say: “Well, we’re witches, and our parents didn’t actually have any control over when they conceived so—there’s that.”  Because people don’t really respond to that well.  Usually we just say “Our parents are very religious” which is true, just not the religion that people expect.   Although—Mom was obsessed with the Christian bible, so our biblical names help that along.  I’m Leah.   My sisters are Ruth, Sarah, and Elizabeth.  My brothers are Daniel, Adam, Paul, Simon, Timothy, Jared, and Isaac.  Luckily, we were saved any –tiels, all though that could have helped sell the religious bit.

The truth is—three of us are conventional, biological, mom and dad had sex and here we are children.  That would be Daniel, Paul, and myself.  Even if it’d just be the three of us, we’d be a pretty odd family.  Daniel is seventeen years my elder.  Paul is eleven years my elder.  Had it just been the three of us—I would have been a “Bonus” baby. But—it wasn’t just the three of us.  The other eight, well, they are the special ones.  Dad would have a vision during his meditations, two weeks later they’d go to the doctor, and bam—pregnant Momma. No biological acts necessary.   They’re the special ones with all the magic in their blood.  They get training from Mom and Dad, they get to be full blown witches and get cool magical powers.

But don’t go pouting over us, Dearie, because Daniel, Paul, and I didn’t get to be completely normal.  No—that’d be too easy.  We get visions, premonitions, low level psychic abilities, etc.   Usually, just enough to get us into trouble but not enough to get us out of it. We may or may not have gotten ourselves into trouble quite a bit.  Okay, mostly me—but I mean—come on.  Can you really blame a girl?

But that’s not the point.  The point is—I’m here to brag.  You see, I’m twenty three years old. And just after my twenty third birthday unbeknownst to the general population as a whole, my family saved the world.  And I helped. This is that story, as true as I can remember it.  Maybe someday this will get out and I can brag properly.  Until then—writing this story will have to do.  Maybe I’ll sell it, maybe the general population is reading this thinking its fiction.  Who knows?  I just know if I don’t get it all out, I’ll burst from excitement.

So here goes nothing.

 
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Posted by on November 29, 2015 in Stories

 

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Fiction: Leaving (214 words)

She tried desperately not to think about how much it was going to hurt.  Because in her heart of hearts, she knew it was going to hurt.  Even if they weren’t lying—even if she felt no physical pain—she knew it was going to hurt unlike anything she had ever done before.  Because she knew she would be conscious.  And if she was conscious, then she knew what she was leaving behind.  And if she knew what she was leaving behind, she knew it was going to hurt.

But, she was trying not to think about that.  After all, she still had a week left.  A week left with her boys, her little men, her family.  A husband who loved her. Two little sons who were going to do so much good in the world.  A happy, healthy, wonderful little family.  It was what he had always wanted.  And she got it.

Of course—in a way, that only made it all so much worse.   Because now she still had to do what she always knew she was going to have to do.  It was an end of the world kind of thing, really, what other choice did she have?  She was going to miss those boys—quite literally—more than life itself.

 
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Posted by on November 28, 2015 in Stories

 

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Ficiton: Legal Theft Project–Wars (330 words)

The ground was still frozen when the war started.  I remember that clearly because my father had promised me he’d stay with us until the flowers came up.  But we heard reports of the battles already being fought, so he had to go.  My mother and I stood close together at the end of the yard as he rode away, and I tried very hard to dig my heel into the ground and could barely make a dent. The world was still deeply frozen—we weren’t even close to spring time.

The ground was muddy when the war ended. My birthday had passed twice since I’d last seen my father. My mother and I had both given up wearing skirts until the ground froze again, because there had been so much rain, that just walking to the end of the yard would twice the cloths weight in mud, and we spent more time holding our clothes on than we did getting anything done.  I was covered in mud from head to toe when we heard the horses coming up the way. I barely recognized him—and I know he completely overlooked me.  He rode straight to the house, threw himself off the horse, and burst through the door.  By the time I made it inside, he had his hands around my mother’s waist, her hands up around his neck, holding each other so greedily that I think I would have been less embarrassed if I had walked in on them in bed together.

I headed back outside, and took care of my father’s horse.  I’d wait for them to remember they already had a child—hopefully before they started to make a new one.

 
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Posted by on November 27, 2015 in Stories

 

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Happy Thanksgiving

We’re all gathered around my Nana’s dining room table, bumping elbows because, really, our family has gotten too big to sit around this table–but tradition is tradition.   My brother keeps threatening to put pumpkin in my hair, and I keep threatening to salt his turkey, and my father has to remind us that we’re both adults now with full time jobs and responsibilities, and then my brother and I continue to torment each other regardless.  We will eat until we feel sick, then watch football, and then probably eat until we feel sick again.

Have a happy Thanksgiving, if you are so inclined to give thanks. If not, have a good Thursday.  Make good memories.  Go to sleep happy.  I hope you have the best.

 
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Posted by on November 26, 2015 in BekahBeth's Thoughts

 

Fiction: Making Amends (233 words)

Louisa had forgiven him.  Corey knew that.  It had been a long time of anger, and then some very pointed discussions about why doping someone’s applesauce with Benadryl a bad thing, and then an addition to the roommates agreement that said she had every right to drive herself crazy with exhaustion, but he had every right to be openly vocal about his concern for her, no matter how annoying she thought that was, so that he no longer felt like Benadryl was his only option.  They hugged and made up.  She had completely forgiven him.

And yet she still always cooked her own dinners these days.

But she had been in a bad spot when Corey tricked her into ten hours of sleep.  Her brother had died so suddenly that no one really knew what the proper protocol for that was.  She had been awake for nearly forty hours straight, with only a handful of cat naps n the two weeks before.  She was starting to worry him—and that’s why he’d broken out the trick his mother had used on him when he couldn’t sleep as a child. He felt like drastic actions had to be taken then, and he wasn’t entirely sure that he hadn’t done the right thing in that moment.

But, he understood entirely why Louisa was happier when he didn’t have access to over the counter allergy medication.

 
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Posted by on November 24, 2015 in Stories

 

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Fiction: Back Together (254 words)

Logically, I understood it. Mara had gotten hurt too badly. She had to quit the team. Colin’s life was the team, he couldn’t have left even if he tried. And we all knew far too well that dating a non-team member didn’t work—even though Mara knew who he was, and even though Mara would understand what he had to do when—There was just something that didn’t work about continuing to date after someone had left the team. The fact of the matter was that they had to spilt up.And it was slowly killing the both of them.

Every time I went to visit Mara, I could see the slow countdown behind her eyes as she waited for it to be long enough for her to causally mention Colin and ask how he was doing. If he hadn’t seen her in a couple of weeks, Colin turned into a moody teenaged boy until I could find some excuse for him and Mara to be in the same sphere with each other, until he could see her again with his own eyes and know that she was okay. And then everything could go back to normal until the next couple of weeks passed and he started to get restless again.

I understood their logic when they did it. And on paper it made perfect sense for them to be doing what they were doing. But this couldn’t be a long term solution. We had to find a way to make this work.

 
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Posted by on November 23, 2015 in Stories

 

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