FGC2012 #12- Magical Realism- Rock Painting

ROCK PAINTING

The scuttle of a tiny creature startled me back into the land of the living. Before I could stop it a gasp had left my lips. The creature stopped and rose up on its hind legs to try and stare me down with its beady eyes. When I reached my foot out to shoo it on I think it realised that it was no bigger than my boot. It took off up the wall in front of me and disappeared into a small hole in the rock face. I glanced around letting my eyes adjust to the darkness. The dugout trench I was sitting in appeared undisturbed. I looked to either end and could see the other members of my group just within my sight. We were spread out along the trench that ran for about 1km around the edge of the open desert.

To my left Washington was shaking his head, he noticed everything. I was unsure if he was disapproving the fact I’d dozed off or that a mouse like creature had made me gasp. It was now going to take me something big to convince him that I belonged out here with the rest of them. At five foot five and weighing in at 55 kilos soaking wet I was no comparison to Washington who was a missive six foot six and had to be in triple digits with his weight. Washington had been in service a few decades longer than me. He was African-American and bald with a huge scar that ran from his temple to the top of his lip. Thankfully I was on his side of this war. I pulled my rifle closer to me it’s hard to explain to my friends back home how a cold piece of metal that is used to kill people is so comforting. Although Washington made me feel pretty safe the weapon I called my own made me feel safer. There was no chance of human error with my rifle. The last few months we had been out in the field made me very reliant on carrying it around. It was practically an extension of me.

“Tap-Tap Tap-Tap-Tap,” that was our signal. I opened my eyes wider trying to break up the crusts of sleep that had formed. A decent amount of time would have passed for that to happen, no wonder Washington was mad. I looked to my right and Manning a wiry red head not much taller than myself was already eagerly on his feet with his face pressed into the wall ready to climb over and take charge of the base we were about to infiltrate. To my left Washington was on his as well and I followed suit. Their eyes both bore into the side of my skull the two of them both thought I didn’t belong. I stared straight ahead refusing to let either of them see that I knew that they were looking. The rock in front of me shifted a little. A small portion smoothed out and a painting appeared. The paintings were always very abstract but I never ignored them. Sometimes I didn’t understand them until after the event they were warning me about but I always tried to figure it out. A few yellow lines appeared followed by a few red lines over the top. They started on the bottom left and arched up to the top right. A black cloud formed above it and then the whole painting vanished.

I could feel movement around me and I zoned in for the final “Tap-Tap” of our signal to climb the wall. Without looking I knew that Manning and Washington were already gone. I scrambled to catch up and like an idiot let my left foot slip out from underneath me. My chin hit the rock face with an almighty thud. Thankfully my hands found the wall before I slid all the way to the bottom I pushed my way over the wall. My feet found a solid spot and I could feel my mouth fill with the salty liquid that I knew was blood. It dribbled out the corner of my mouth and I had to spit it out. Which part of my mouth had been pierced by my teeth I wasn’t sure of but there was a decent amount of blood. I had to hasten my speed to catch up to the rest of them. 

I tried to spit out my next mouthful of blood on the run and failed miserably the reddish-brown liquid dribbled down the front of my shirt. My eyes scanned the landscape for anyone else from my team and I realised how far behind I really was. They were all nearly at the complex and I was a good few hundred metres behind them all. I doubled my speed and then the ground shook violently beneath me. It took me a moment to realise that I was face first on the ground.  I pushed up with my hands and saw the complex I was heading towards no longer existed. Red and yellow flames reached up to the sky like fingers the wind blowing them up and to the right. I looked to the sky to see the black cloud that was forming above the fire. I closed my eyes and saw the painting and when I opened them I saw what the painting had been trying to warn me about. My ears were ringing from what must have been some sort of explosion. There were no planes so the bomb must have come from inside. A few figures ran from the area some on fire themselves. Most didn’t make it far before they dropped to the ground. Some rolled to put out the flames and others that dropped would never be getting up again.

I gathered my legs beneath myself and picked up my rifle. My face flushed with the heat from the flames and the night got darker. The black cloud spread across the sky blotting out the stars. What had the enemy been hiding? A man in the same uniform as mine ran towards me. His mouth moved but the sound of his words didn’t reach me all I could hear was ringing. He got closer to me and took hold of my shoulders. I stared back at him and he tried to drag me back to the trenches. So many questions were thundering through my head. We took a few steps towards the trench and I saw an all too familiar sight starting to form on the ground. My feet stopped moving and the man who had my arm kept trying to pull me away. When the painting finally formed it was easy for me to read. In the past they had been very cryptic. The red and yellow lines and a black cloud had meant nothing to me until after the explosion.  But right now on the ground before me was an obvious instruction a bright red arrow pointed diagonally behind me to the left.

“This way,” I yelled to the soldier. He put his finger to his lips to let me know how loud I had yelled. All I heard was ringing. Finally I’d managed to pull my arm out of his grasp. Without too much thought my legs were off towards the direction that the arrow had shown me. When I looked back over my shoulder to see if he was coming with me he had not moved as though his feet were concreted to the ground.

“Come on,” I called out. His eyes widened once again letting me know that I’d once again been too loud. I held my arm up in the air and waved it indicating him to come with me. He repeated the signal back indicating that he thought I should follow him. We both stood our ground for what seemed like an eternity. Eventually I gave up trying to get him to join me and I decided to go at it alone. My pace quickened to a jog I could sense that he went down into the trenches. Thankfully all my other senses were on high alert and hopefully my hearing would recover quickly. I glanced over my shoulder when I was a safe distance away. The unmistakable muzzle flash of an automatic rifle lit up the trench. I took a moment to wish my fellow soldier a quick and painless passage to whatever afterlife he believed he was going to.

Knowing I couldn’t spare another second my body took over and started to run. Most of the raging flames had extinguished themselves causing the smoke covered night to become even darker. A strong westerly wind picked up and blew the smoke across my path. When I pulled my hand down after coughing into it I felt the blood that had sprayed into it. With a quick wipe on my pants I continued on. My eyes began to water as the smoke got into them and started to sting. Thankfully my legs kept pumping even though the rest of my body screamed at me to slow down. One foot after the other I raced through the thick blinding smoke hoping that I would find wherever it was the arrow had been telling me to go before someone else found me.  An oomph escaped my lips as I once again found myself face first in the dirt. Something had caught around my ankle made me fall over. When I looked down I saw a hand had encircled my ankle. I kicked at it with my free foot to try and force the fingers to release their grip. Instead the grip tightened. I squinted, my stinging eyes and tried to focus on the arm and the person attached to it.

“Washington?” I whispered. I struggled to my knees and looked over my fellow soldier to see if I could see why he was lying on the ground. His lips were forming words but I had to shake my head to let him know I couldn’t hear what he was saying. After a quick examination of him I could see that his leg was wounded. I helped him to his feet and draped on of his enormous arms over my shoulder. The wound in his mid-thigh sat level with my waist I noted to myself that his thigh was almost the same size as my waist as well. But somehow I managed to help a man that was twice my size walk.

Washington tapped me on the arm and pointed towards some large boulders. I nodded and helped him towards them. His blood was soaking through my shirt. As soon as I lowered him to the ground I set to work on the wound on his leg. There was a piece of what could have once been part of a car or even a building. There was nothing that I could do about it except wrap his leg with the sleeve I tore off my shirt. A large red arrow appeared on the rocks behind him and I knew it was time for us to make a move. I felt him groan as I pulled him back to his feet. His pace slowed with every step that we took. The further we moved the more I was struggling to hold him up I hoped that wherever the arrows wanted me to find wasn’t too far away. My small frame screamed at me to stop putting it through so much physical torture but my heart knew that there was nothing that could make me leave Washington behind.

The further we walked the more arrows started appearing I hastened my pace hoping that it meant we were close. My heart sank when the next arrow was facing the direction we had just come from. After taking a step back I stood and stared at it and hoped that it would pop up and tell me exactly what it meant. I turned in a circle and saw the last arrow I had stepped over was still there pointing the opposite direction to the arrow I had turned from. I turned again to the side hoping to find some other clue. There I was faced with another arrow pointing towards me. I took my chance and turned the other way only to see a forth arrow pointing right at me. By this time Washington was shaking his head at me. There was nothing else that I could do so I pulled Washington close to me making sure that the two of us were in the middle of the four arrows.  Washington’s left eyebrow was raised I held tight and looked down at our feet on the ground between us appeared an X. For the thousandth time in my life I wished that I knew more about the paintings and how to read them but presently all I could do was wait for whatever was about to happen.

Washington rolled his eyes at me and tried to pull us away when I gripped him firmly he appeared to decide that he needed to trust my decision. A split second later I could tell he was regretting it the ground beneath us opened up. I’m sure a squeal escaped my lips I tried to cover my mouth and prayed that Washington had not heard it. I tried to console myself by thinking that he probably squealed as well I just didn’t hear it. The rocks and dirt fell down with us as we tumbled through the Earth. It felt like we were falling forever I searched for Washington and tried to reach out to where I thought he would be but my hands closed around air. Finally the bottom of whatever we were falling into rushed up to meet me. My back hit the ground hard with a thud. All the air escaped my lungs and I gasped trying to fill them up again. Every attempt hurt more than the last and before I had even managed to get any air into them I was being pulled to my feet.  Roles had reversed quickly and now it was Washington holding me up.

“A.. ay,” I heard him say. My heart skipped a beat.

“What?” I asked.

“Are you ok?” I heard him say. He sounded like he was on the other side of a pillow but I heard him all the same.

“Yes,” I breathed. I looked to his leg that I could see a little better down here. Wherever we were was brighter than the surface. A small part of me panicked thinking that we had been captured by the enemy but a look around confirmed that the area was all created by nature. It was a cave and the light was coming from some form of glowing rock.

“How do we get out?” Washington asked.

“I’m sure we will find a way,” I told him. I located the small torch in my pocket and shone it on the walls to try and figure a way out. My eye was caught by a painting and I stopped. Washington stood behind me and looked at where the light was hovering. I looked to the ground and couldn’t think of a way to explain to him what I was seeing.

“That’s an interesting cave painting,” he murmured. I looked over my shoulder slightly shocked no-one had ever seen them before. The painting before me was not a new painting I’d seen this one before. It was a long time ago as well. The picture was a green car. My heart ached when I remembered that painting appearing the first time. It had tried to warn me that my parents were about to die in a car accident. I scanned the torch along the wall and every segment of the wall was covered in all the paintings that I have seen in my life. Each had warned me about one thing or another and every time I had not known what from. My chest tightened as I passed over each one. There was the pill bottle that had warned of my foster mother’s suicide, the bike that told of my brother’s accident that had left him in a vegetative state. I stopped at yellow ring and could hardly bring myself to move on. I blinked back the tears that welled in my eyes as I remembered the day I committed my life to my partner. Washington’s hand tightened on my shoulder as he felt me start to well up.

“It’s your life isn’t it?” he asked. His deep brown eyes stared back into my own and I knew that I didn’t even need to form the words. Part of me was dying to know how he knew. His enormous hand closed over mine and raised the torchlight a foot up the wall. Above the yellow circle were a couple of blue squiggly lines.

“That’s what I saw the day my son drowned,” he explained to me. My own heart ached at the mention of the word son. Would I ever get home to hold mine again? I travelled my torch along to a picture of a blue teddy that had appeared the day that Kaiden had entered the world. Followed by the picture of a heart that reminded me how quickly Kaiden was almost taken away again. Many heart operations later my little man was fighting fit and all I wanted to do right now was hold him in my arms.

“Perhaps we should see what is in store for us,” Washington suggested. We made our way along the wall and we came to the picture of the flames and the arrows.  Then there was nothing. I drew in a sharp breath. I raised the torch to Washington’s line and again there was nothing.

“This is the end,” I sighed.

“No it can’t be,” he growled. He took the torch off me and started scanning the walls. Before I knew what was happening my legs had taken me backwards to the other side of the cave. My back hit the wall and I slid to the floor. Washington took the torch all over the cave and then returned to my side looking defeated. He gingerly lowered himself to the ground and rested his head against the wall. We both sighed. How could this possibly be the end? I closed my eyes and before I knew it the comfort of sleep had engulfed me.

When I peeked through the slit of one eyelid many hours later I was greeted by the sound of Washington snoring like a jackhammer. There was a small figure on the other side of the room. I’d always felt like I was extremely short but the other figure couldn’t have been more than three feet tall. I forced my eyes open the entire way and noticed that the tiny person was painting. She felt me looking at her and turned to look at me. She was the most exquisite looking being I had ever seen. She smiled at me and returned to her painting. Then she rounded the corner and disappeared. I got to my feet and looked at what she had painted. It was a helicopter. My heart stopped did this mean we were about to be bombed? Attacked? Crashed on?

“Shirley I’m sorry,” Washington mumbled. There was a helicopter overhead and it was getting closer every second. “I turned away from Sean for a second.” The pain in his voice was evident I couldn’t imagine losing Kaiden and I knew it must have been hell for him. Watching a man that had always been so strong and such and inspiration to everyone in the team huddled up in the corner made me think about how quickly life can change. I heard the helicopter hover above us. There were the distinctive clinks of canisters hitting the ground and rolling across the floor. The cave was filled with an odourless gas and that’s the last thing I remember about the cave.

********

“Chelsea,” whispered my husband’s voice in the darkness. I opened my eyes and saw him standing by my bedside with Kaiden in his arms. I held my arms out for my son and without a word Jackson handed him over as he bent down I lifted my head to kiss him.

“I love you mummy,” Kaiden said as he grabbed my hand.

“I love you too sweetie,” I told him. Jackson ruffled Kaidens hair and smiled at me.

“I’m glad you made it home,” Jackson added.

“How’s Washington?” I asked. His blank stare in reply told me that he hadn’t made it. “Did he suffer?” I asked.

“You’ve been calling his name all week and I looked him up. You never served with a Washington.”

Challenge- To write in the Magical Realism Genre

Word Limit- 3500

Actual word count- 3478

Personal Challenge- Leaving it until the last minute because I didn't understand the genre. Was definately a struggle for me. But thanks to some very motivating friends I got through it.

FGC #11- Shakespearean Sonnet

How dost thou make me feel this way?

I fear thou hast taken my heart.

Please I beg thee by my side to stay.

I wish not to undergo any time apart.

Wilt thou abhor this plee?

At the sound of thy name I quake,

How could I be away from thee?

My love, so much is at stake.

Do not balk at what could be thine,

To one deserving of the thrill,

Forever I’ll belong to thee and thou will be mine,

Times can be heavy and testy but I’ll be thine still.

My heart beats only for thee,

Without thou there shant be me.

CHALLENGE- To write a Shakepearean sonnet.

FGC 2012 #10- Becoming the Lady

BECOMING THE LADY

I sat on my normal chair looking out the window. My husband had been away for many months at war and for the last few nights I had been praying that he would return soon. From the tower my room was in I could see for many miles and would be able to see when he was returning. I held my son Lularch close to my heart and mused over how much I loved him.

“Dinner is served my lady,” one of my maids said. She tried to take my son from me but I don’t feel like giving him up at the moment. I carry him downstairs and am almost run into by the two demon spawn from my husbands first marriage. I order the children outside and wonder how upset Gille would be if he came home and his children were no longer breathing. I had barely finished the thought when the girl child screamed. My heart stopped. My thought may have been granted but it wasn’t what I really wanted.

I passed Lularch off to the maid and lifting my floor length skirt I ran out the front door. My eyes scanned the yard and there was no sign of either of them. My heart raced as I pictured a million possible reasons the child could have screamed. I heard another scream and knew that it was coming from the stables. I ran around as fast as my legs could carry me and was relieved to see Gille had her on his shoulders and when I saw the smile on her face I realized that her screams were joyful and not terrified. I welcomed him home.

I introduced him to our son for the first time. I did not seem to interested and wanted to spend more time with his other two children. Later that night he told me that he was next in line for the throne and the current king was going to visit us shortly to make sure that we would be suitable heirs. The news spread quickly and everyone in our small town offered assistance. My father came to stay with us as well.

Finally the day arrived the king and a small portion of his army greeted us in the front yard. I held Lularch on my hip and welcomed them inside. The King decided to make his announcement to the whole town since they were all gathered around outside.

“In honour of his bravery and loyalty in all our recent battles I have decided to name Gille as the heir to my throne.”

My father picked me up and spun me around.

“That is grand news,” he exclaimed. It was wonderful to see him so happy. Since my mother and brother had died from the plague five years ago his eyes had been hollow. We ushered them into the dining hall for a feast that our maids had slaved over for days.

Gilles children raced through the room and I could see all the men’s faces twist in disgust at the undisciplined children running through the place. I felt angry that the children could be so disrespectful. One of the maids ushered them out of the room but from the looks on the faces of those in the room the damage had been done. I sat next to Gille after I passes Lularch to one of the other maids. I was lost in the plans that they were making for the kingdom and sat there pushing the food around my plate. I missed Lularch already. It was such a strange sensation. Gille could be away for months at a time and even once for a year and I didn’t miss him anywhere near as much as I missed my son in the ten minutes he had been away. I excused myself from the table. I found them quickly and held him tightly in my arms. I decided to head back to the dining hall and see how everything was going. I jumped backwards as something rolled out the door past my feet. I heard the gentle thud as it hit the legs of the maid behind me.

The noise that followed will haunt me forever. The most ear-piercing scream that made my heart stop. I turned to put the maid in her place, she was there to be seen and no heard. It was then that I saw what the object was it was a severed head. Its eyes were still open in shock and my mouth opened wide. My heart started racing. I took a moment to inspect the head and was relieved to see that it didn’t belong to anyone that I knew. I exchanged a glance with the maid and knew the two of us were thinking the same thing. Who else lies dead behind the door? What of my father and my husband? Do I run or do I stay and see what I can do?

I took my chances and entered the room. It only took a few seconds before I know that I had made the wrong choice. The King still sat in his seat but had been unseamed from the nave to the chaps. His internal organs were on display for the world to see. Some of my maids were in pieces on the floor. I’d never seen anything like it in my life. Blood is splattered up the walls and pools of it lie on the floor. It took longer than it should have for the images in the room to register in my brain but the shock of the events had slowed my reactions. The headless body that once belonged to the head that rolled past me is lying in the doorway. The blood is oozing out of the opening where his head used to sit. I looked down and saw that the blood had spread so far it was touching the tip of my shoes. The body is face down as though he tried to flee the scene.

I searched the room for my husband and father and my heart jumped into my throat when I couldn’t see either of them. My body started to tremble as I imagined the possible outcomes that could have befallen my loved ones. What happened in here for so much bloodshed to follow? My eyes darted around the room hoping to find my husband and father. There was little sign of life around the room except for a couple of the kings men fighting among themselves. Their swords clinked together and then one got the upper hand and ran his sword straight through the other. He reefed his sword upward and tore the others insides apart. The body fell to the floor with a thud and the little space of floor that was still clear was now also covered in blood. The sight of the already dead bodies had been one thing and my stomach had flopped but watching a living soul become a dead one twisted my stomach into knots.

I saw a soldier drag my father from the kitchen. I had to look twice to identify him because his face has been hit so much that it is swollen and covered in blood. His clothes are torn the soldier dragging him twists his arm until the sound of snapping bone echoes in my ear. My already twisted stomach threatens to empty its contents. The vile vomit burns as it reaches my throat. The soldier on the other side of the room marches over to the table. I recognize him as one I was introduced to as Duncan. He bent under the table and dragged someone out from under it. It took me a moment to see that it is Gille being dragged across the floor. Duncan looked as though he wasn’t even going to allow Gille the dignity of being on his feet before he tried to kill him. Duncan raised his sword with the tip pointed directly at Gilles heart.

“No,” I cried suddenly finding my voice. I know that I am powerless to help the men that I love but at the same time I am powerless to move. My legs were frozen in place. My father managed to get himself to his knees after he had been thrown to the floor. He saw me in the doorway and his eyes widened. I wanted to race to his side but fear had my body locked.

 “Run,” my father commanded. I tried to obey but couldn’t move. My eyes were locked with his and I tried to yell out for them to leave him alone but the fear tightened around my chest stopped any sound from coming out. But I was too late. The soldier’s sword ran straight through my father’s chest and out his back. I knew the sword had pierced straight through his heart my own heart felt like it had been pierced through as well.

While I had been watching my father Gille had fought his way to his feet. Duncan had a tight grip on his shoulders and forced Gille down to his knees.

“You are not worthy of the promotion I have spent my life working towards. You tore away my dreams and now everyone that you know will suffer for your actions,” Duncan growls as he raised his sword. My heart ached to hold him one last time but I knew there was nothing that I could do for him. His final words break the spell that had me frozen in place.

 “Get Lularch out of here,” he cried. I looked down at my arms and suddenly remembered the baby that I have been holding the whole time. By the time I looked back up where Gille was kneeling his head had been swiftly removed from his body.

“Get out my lady,” cried the maid as she stepped in front of me. I turned and ran from the house. I passed the children playing outside. The thought to leave them behind crossed my mind but any part of Gille that I could keep would be good.

 “Come with me,” I commanded.

“You’re not our mother,” the girl snapped at me.

“See those soldiers coming out the door? They just killed your father and we are next,” I growled at them.

“Father,” she screamed as she ran towards the door. I prayed that they might let the child live but my hopes are short lived as I watched the soldier drive his sword through her abdomen. For the first time in my life I felt sorry for the child but I haven’t the time to dwell on it as they turned their attention to me.

“Live or die?” I asked Gille’s son. He took the hand I had extended and we ran together.

“Let them go,” I heard one of them say. “It’s only a woman and two kids.”

“They are who we need the most,” I heard Duncan say. “His sons are the heirs to the throne. They need to die before I can be crowned.”

I heard their footsteps gain on me and with each step my heart raced faster. I dropped his hand in the hopes to give Lularch a better chance of survival. I felt the boy struggle to keep up. His blood splattered up my back and I knew they had caught up. I held my son closer and put my head down and ran with all my might. I made it to the town and lost them by turning a few streets and then climbed through a window. The owner of the place is startled but kept quiet as the guards ran past the place. I hid crouched under the table as they ran through the town. I heard them start entering the houses and tearing them apart. I held Lularch closer and closed my eyes hoping that they would pass on by. Lularch started to stir and I held him tighter wanting to absorb him into my body and keep him safe. It only took moments for him to start screaming. The door is kicked down and the owner of the house tore him from my arms. She told the soldiers that he is her baby and they believed her. I stayed in the house until I heard the soldiers leave the town and leave with Duncan on their horses. When I could no longer see them over the horizon I left the safety of the house and headed to my home in the hopes to find someone alive.

When I got there I find a yard full of bodies and a house that is ablaze with unforgiving fire. I stared into the flames and allow the first tears to fall. My husband, my father, my home, my servants, the  two children I never liked and everything I ever owned all destroyed in moments. A hand grabbed me from behind and twisted me around. I was met by a menacing grin with a few teeth missing and a long scar along his cheek. I gasped he grabbed my arm and dragged me to my knees. I held Lularch tighter than I had held anything. Then I felt the warm liquid run down my arms and I looked at my hands that are suddenly covered in blood. I didn’t feel any pain but when I looked down I saw a dagger had entered my side straight through the lifeless body of my son. The world holds nothing for me and I am grateful for the blackness that engulfed me.

*********

I curse the day that I didn’t die. It plagues my mind while I wake and while I sleep. I vow to myself that King Duncan’s reign will be short. The woman who saved me from the soldiers is also the one that healed me. She gave me a small pack to travel with and told me of a town called Cawdor where some of Duncan’s other men resided. I travelled for many days and nights and found the place that I will seek my revenge on those who have wronged me. I am stopped at the gates of a great home.

“What might I ask is your business?” asked the porter. I can smell the stench of alcohol on his breath.

“I need a place to rest,” I pleaded. Then I saw him a man of intense beauty. He noticed me and came over.

“What seems to be the problem?” he asked the porter.

“This lady would like somewhere to rest,” explained the porter.

“Then that’s what we shall give her,” he said. My eyes locked onto his. They are intensely dark but soulful. “Good evening my lady. My name is Macbeth.”

He bowed in front of me and I giggled. I can see his eyes sparkle as he stood up to his full height again. The first stage of my plan for revenge had been successful.

CHALLENGE

Write a horror in 2500 words

actual word count 2500

FGC 2012 #9- Scarlet Red

“Red. One colour can mean so much. It can indicate love. It can indicate fire, is the colour of fire engines. It can mean danger and is also the colour of stop signs. It can also mean passion, danger or courage. In China it symbolises happiness and prosperity and is worn by a bride. However in South Africa it is the colour of mourning. Seeing red would indicate anger. Celebrities will walk a red carpet. Red is the colour of Cupid and it’s the colour of the Devil…” Scarlet’s fancy red pen was next to her crimson leather bound notebook. Her parents decision to name her Scarlet could have been the beginning of her obsession with the colour.

Her partner Jackson knew that the way to her heart was with the colour. As soon as she opened the door she would walk down a path of red rose petals. At the end she would come to the table that was covered with a crimson table cloth. Two tall carmine coloured candles set in the middle of the table were the only light source to the room. As the flames flickered they cast shadows across the rest of the table. A very expensive wine glass sat at each end of the table already half filled with the most expensive Pinot Noir which was Scarlet’s favourite. A Tuscan-red napkin was folded next to each carefully placed set of cutlery.

On the stovetop in the kitchen sat a pot of tomato and basil soup that would make a delicious entrée for the two of them on this perfect night. Which would be followed by an aromatic beetroot risotto for the main course. Then finally they would finish up with individual strawberry cheesecakes. Jackson had slaved for hours in the kitchen. The night had to be absolutely perfect. The prize course for the night sat in the centre of the bench a small red velvet cube that contained an exquisite ring. There were no diamonds, but instead was a large ruby surrounded by many small rubies formed the shape of a love heart in the gold band. Scarlet would not be able to resist her favourite gem.

Scarlet was dressed beautifully. Her amaranth coloured dress was low cut showing off her best assets and there was a split in the skit up to her knee. She wore Jacksons favourite undergarments the matching red bra and g-string with the black lace trimmings. She knew when Jackson promised a three course meal it would end with an extra special dessert. She had topped it off with her favourite Raspberry coloured heels. Her tear drop shaped ruby ear-rings and matching necklace topped the ensemble off. Her freshly died burgundy hair also accented the green of her eyes. Scarlet was very pleased with how she looked.

On the dresser in the bedroom was a note written on red rose bordered paper.

“Roses are red,

Voilets are blue.

Tonight I’ll make a

Perfect dinner for you.”

The two of them had been seeing each other for three years now and had lived in this house together for six months. It had taken Jackson a little while to get used to everything being the colour of red. The bath towels, the mats, the saucepans, the kettle and the paintings that hung on the walls. He had grown used to it and been thankful that the love of his life’s favourite colour was not pink.

Jackson climbed the last stair to their fourth floor apartment. He couldn’t believe that he had forgotten the whipped cream. Tonight was certainly going to be one for the record books. He adjusted his amaranth coloured tie and hoped that Scarlet had picked out her amaranth coloured dress. He shook his head as he remembered a few years ago when red was just red. Now red was so much more so many shades and emotions from the one colour. He pulled out his keys which were also red. He smiled when he remembered the day that Scarlet had handed them over to him. She had been wearing a coral coloured jumpsuit and had packed and moved numerous boxes out of her apartment so that he could move his stuff in. He naturally Auburn coloured hair was plastered to her forehead with sweat. Whenever he brings up that day she whines about how disgusting she looked and she wished that she had a shower before she had asked him. But that day she couldn’t have looked more beautiful there was nothing more beautiful than someone wanting to share their life with you. He knew from that day that he was going to ask her. But she had rules and time frames that he had to adhere to or he would never hear the end of it.

He put his key in the lock and it popped open easily. The rose petals and the table settings and the food were all exactly where he left them. The candles that he had left burning were still there. His heart stopped for a moment as he thought of the fact that he could have burnt down the whole apartment and it could have been their worst night ever. He couldn’t believe he had forgotten one of the most important parts of the night. He put the whipped cream in the fridge. Then he rearranged the red roses in the middle of the table. He imagined her face when he brought her out from the bedroom. He guessed she would be in there working on her assignment. After making one last adjustment to the table he went to collect her. He moved around the other side of the table and stood into a puddle. He couldn’t remember spilling any wine. He examined the puddle and when he saw the source of it his heart really did stop. Scarlet in all her finest evening wear was lying face down in a puddle of her own blood.

“Red is the colour of blood.”


FGC#9

Challenge to write a Vignette

Word Limit- 1000
Actual word count- 1000

FGC#8- The Second Fleet

“Mary Butler?” barked the guard at the top of the ramp. He looked again at the scroll he was holding to ensure he had not got the name wrong. I kept my head bowed and closed my eyes hoping that he would move on. I gripped tightly to the small bag I had been allowed to bring.

“Mary Butler?” he barked more firmly. A second guard was pacing up and down the rows that we had been assembled into. The second guard stopped in front of me and snatched my papers out of my hands.

“Here,” he grumbled. He grabbed my arm roughly twisted it behind my back. He threw me to the ground at the top of the ramp and kicked me in the side while ordering me to get up. I managed to gather my feet beneath me and took a hesitant step onto the ramp, which really just consisted of a few planks of wood nailed together. I placed one cautious foot in front of the other. I finally made it to the bottom where an impatient guard threw me to the deck of the small boat that was to transport me out to the ship. The small boat looked like it was barely holding together and I thought maybe I would drown before I had to serve out my sentence. After what seemed like forever we made it across the river Thames to the ship. Myself and the number of other passengers that had been crammed onto the small boat were lifted to the ships deck. We were greeted by a couple of guards who quickly took our belongings off us and threw them onto an increasing pile. We went from being crammed in a boat to being crammed in a room together.  We were in the room a few hours. Many more were crammed into the room during this time and if anyone was caught talking when a guard came in they were kicked and scolded. After a few hours the floor appeared to be moving beneath us. It was a strange sensation for me. I had only been on a boat once and that was quite some time ago when my family migrated from Dublin, Ireland. I think I must have been about 5 or 6.  Most of us had taken a seat on the wooden deck in the room. I noticed a few of them had changed colour and were paler than they had been before the ship had started to move.

The door was flung open with a loud thud. Sunlight streamed in from outside and I squinted as my eyes tried to adjust to the sudden increase in light. I looked at the figure in the doorway starting at what would have been some incredibly expensive boots all the way up to the top of an overdressed portly gentleman. He grinned at us and his voice boomed through what had been hours of silence.

“Welcome aboard the Neptune,” he announced. “I am your master Donald Traill. Now all of you on your feet these quarters are now reserved for my crew.”

One by one the guards dragged us out of the room and locked shackles around our ankles. I’d never been shackled before as soon as the guard on my left who had an awful stench of pipe tobacco and whiskey grabbed me by the arm and dragged me across the deck. I struggled with the shackles on they were quiet heavy. I stumbled and that earned me a backhand across the face from the smelly guard that was dragging me. He grabbed my arm again after a few failed attempts that ended with grabs of my breast. I didn’t think anything of it until he whispered in my ear.

“This is going to be a fun trip,” his voice rasped with the sound of decades of smoking.

I was pushed and dragged along the deck and down a level. We moved past some store rooms and the galley. A grumbling in my stomach reminded me that it had been a long day and we had all yet to be fed. They opened another door for us and thirty convicts and I were hurried down to the next level. The ladder to that level was more rickety and unstable than the previous one. The guards were impatient and threw a few people down to the next level. I cringed as they hit the lower level with a loud thud. It came my turn to step onto the ladder. I braced myself expecting to be thrown down like some of the others had. To my surprise I was allowed to make my own way down. I struggled with the ladder that looked ready to crumble and the heavy chains didn’t make it any easier. When I reached the bottom I looked around for a guard that would release the shackles now that we were confined. I found no such comfort.

“Mary?” a timid voice whispered from the corner. I turned to see my friend Mary Desmond huddled on the floor.

“Mary,” I cried as I sat down next to her. We had met on the boat from Dublin to England and remained friends ever since. At the time we never imagined that we would become convicts and put on the Second Fleet.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered as I took her hand in my own.

“I’m as much to blame,” she lied. I’d talked her into stealing a basket of beans from a farm and trying to sell them at the market. I was going to use my half of the money to pay for medical care for my brother, John, who had been struck down with polio when he was younger and now could hardly walk. We took the beans to the market in the hope to sell them and spoke about the theft only in our home country’s dialect but unfortunately for us there was someone that understood us and dobbed us in. We were arrested and tried together and here we are sentenced to 7 years and sent to the new country. 

We sat there on that floor and waited. We expected to be shown to some sort of sleeping quarters and at least given some sort of meal. But the appropriate time for anything like that came and then it went. Mary and I used each other for warmth we watched many of the convicts shiver their way through the night. I was thankful that our long garments and bonnets were enough to keep us warm.

The next morning we were woken by the door banging loudly open and heavy boots thumping down the rungs of the ladder. I opened my eyes to see one of the guards coming down the stairs with a bucket. He started throwing whatever was in the bucket at the convicts on the other side of the space we were confined to. Some looked for a minute and then their eyes widened as they picked it up. I was curious to know what we were getting and when I saw a few of them pick it up and sink their teeth in I knew it was our breakfast. He made his way round the room and stopped in front of Mary and I. He looked at us for a moment and then threw a piece at each of us mine hit my shoulder with a thud and landed in my lap. Mary’s landed straight on the floor. He bared his teeth at me or at least the few that he had left in his yellowing mouth.

“I’ll be back for you ladies later. The boss will have a job for you,” he growled like a tiger and then turned and headed back up the ladder. When the door slammed shut behind him I looked down at the meagre piece of salted meat in my hand. I saw that most everyone else had finished their in a few bites. My growling stomach reminded me that it had been almost a day since we had been last fed. I watched Mary start tearing at the meat and had devoured a good chunk of it before I stopped her. I broke mine into three pieces and urged her to do the same. I tore a strip from my under garment and wrapped two pieces and put them in my apron pocket. I made Mary do the same and as painful as it was to only take small bites of the only food I’d seen in some time I knew it would be better in the long run. When my parents had been alive there had not been a lot of money and the small amount of food we could afford on what my father earned was stretched very thin between the four of us. So I was used to only small portions of food. Then when it was just John and I even though money was scarcer there was only the two of us to feed. I prayed that someone had taken John in. Would be cruel to think that while trying to save him and get him help I’d been taken away and left him alone which could ultimately lead to his death. My chest tightened and tears threatened to spill. But the last thing I needed was for anyone to think that I was weak. I took a deep breath and Mary took my hand probably knowing what I was thinking about. Mary had been orphaned many years ago and had been on her own for a very long time. I had helped her out as much as I could and helped get her a job at the laundry. The years of hard work made Mary’s hands hard and calloused. I could feel just how bad they were as she held onto my hand. My stomach was already grumbling again and I knew I had to refrain myself from finishing the small portions of food I had left. My head had started to throb a little. I ran my tongue over my lips to moisten them a little but the small amount of moisture I spread across them was sucked into the cracks within seconds.

Hours had passed and there was no sign of the guard returning with lunch. Finally the door opened again and another bucket was brought down this time by a woman. A free traveller to the new country. How lucky for her to have the choice and to not be shackled I thought bitterly. She placed the bucket at the bottom of the stairs and when she lifted her head I noticed a large bruise down the side of her face. I guessed not so lucky after all. She climbed the ladder again and returned with a second bucket and a ladle. She placed them down and turned and left as quickly as she could.  Nobody moved. I guessed everyone felt as miserable as I did and they just sat and stared at the buckets. Although it was only seconds it felt like hours before I finally got to my feet. My head started to swim and I had to brace myself with the wall. Carefully placing one foot in front of the other I made my way to the buckets. The first bucket was empty. I held it upside down to show everybody that it was empty then I tossed it aside. The second bucket was full of the most glorious thing that I had seen all day. I lifted the ladle and dunked it in the bucket I let it pour back into the bucket so everyone could see and I gently filled it again and held it to my lips. The cool liquid felt wonderful in my parched mouth and even managed to moisten my lips slightly. I only had the chance for a few sips out of the ladle before I was knocked aside by one of the other convicts desperate to get to the water. I managed to scoop a handful for Mary before the savages devoured the whole bucket.

Most days were very much the same and the days turned into weeks before we knew it. As the weeks went on the food and water got less and less and the stench in the place was almost unbearable. We were not allowed up on the deck and the little water we were given was used only for drinking so we didn’t get to bathe at all. I noticed my clothing was fitting looser. Mary was looking very gaunt and pale and I was starting to get really concerned for her. We had little conversation with the other convicts. We’d spoken to a few of them in the earlier weeks but now that everyone was weaker there was little that anyone wanted to talk about. Most of the time we just sat around. We all prayed that we would make it through the night. There was one lad that I was concerned about. He couldn’t be much more than 20. He was one I had spoken to in the earlier days he reminded me a little of John. Of course they looked nothing alike and John was younger than 20. I discovered his name was Edward. This was the first time he had ever been away from his family. He became more emaciated with each day that went by. I shared a small portion of my rations with him. I couldn’t afford to share too much as we were only being fed every second day. He could barely move anymore. I sat with him while I tried encouraging him to drink some water and eat the remainder of my rations. He managed to get it down but threw it all back up. I climbed the ladder and banged on the door.

“Hello. We need some help in here,” I yelled. There was no response. I banged on the door and yelled until I was completely exhausted. I went to sit back with him and lay his head down on my lap while I stroked his hair murmuring soothing words to him. The door banged open and everyone looked expecting our new bucket of water but instead of one of the normal women that served us it was a guard.

“We need help over here,” I cried out to him. He ignored what I had said and walked straight to Mary and grabbed her arm forcing her to her feet and to the bottom of the ladder.

“Excuse me,” I cried as I got to my feet. “He’s very sick.”

The guard forced Mary up the stairs and then grabbed my arm and forced me upstairs as well. I protested the whole way trying to get him to look at Edward. We were dragged through the corridors and into a crewman’s cabin where a number of guards were sitting around.

“Finally,” grumbled a ginger haired man as he put his whiskey bottle on the table. I wanted to swing my arm and knock the bottle to the floor. They couldn’t give us water but here they were enjoying whiskey.

“One of the guys is very sick and needs help,” I explained.

“We need help,” replied the ginger haired gentleman as he got off his seat and undid his belt. It took a moment for me to realise what was going on. I tuned to see that Mary had been forced into a corner by a very tall sandy haired man.

“Mary,” she whimpered I could see her eyes had widened to almost double their size.

“Leave her alone,” I growled as I dug my nails in and tried to pull him off her. He lifted his elbow and bought it up right under my chin. The taste of blood fills my mouth immediately and I spit it out on the floor which scores me a punch in the stomach.

“One more act of defiance from you and it will be 20 lashes,” Mr Ginger tells me. I watch in horror for a moment as Mary’s clothes are taken off her. I don’t get another moment to protest before I was grabbed and thrown across the table. I felt the stitching in my clothing rip as he tore my clothes off me.

“One word of protest from you will also be twenty lashes,” he growled. He pinned my arms to the table above my head and held both my wrists with one hand. This made me even angrier when I realised how skinny I was and how easy it was for him to hold two arms in one hand. He clamped his filthy alcohol tasting mouth over mine. I closed my eyes and pursed my lips tightly. He grabbed one leg and spread it so that he could stand between them. My heart stopped when I realised that this was really happening. He writhed around on top of me like an animal before he finally finished and lay there until I couldn’t breathe. I prayed to God that he would crush me to death then and there. But much to my dismay those prayers were not answered. We were escorted from the room and not even given the dignity of having our clothes returned. We were practically thrown back down to the lower level and it was blatantly obvious to anyone else what had happened. A few gentlemen were kind enough to give us each a shirt. I sat with Mary in silence in the corner for a few hours. We eventually drifted off. I was constantly woken up throughout the night by Mary’s whimpering. I sat up and pulled her close to me and let her cry while I held her.

“You’re safe now,” I whispered. I spent the next few days between Mary and Edward trying to convince them both to eat and drink. Mary shut down. It was like she became an empty shell. There was nothing that I could say or do to make her talk or eat. The two of us were taken out frequently to “entertain the guards” as they called it. Each time we came back Mary disappeared into herself more and more each time. I was sitting with her one evening and one of the guys came over to pull me aside. I recognised him as one of the guys who offered up his shirt I’d found out his name was William.

“It’s Edward,” he mumbled to me. He led me to where Edward was lying. I felt guilty that I hadn’t been looking after him more. There was nothing to the boy. He was skin and bone. His clothes had been removed as well. I noticed then that there were a few people without clothing. I knew that the clothing they boarded with would no longer fit them. He was curled on the floor shaking. I knelt next to him and pulled his head onto my lap. I stoked his hair. He barely opened his eyes. He was so frail that I picked his entire body up and sat him on my lap. I cradled him willing him to live. He was too weak to talk and there was a brief moment that he was able to open his eyes. With one look he told me that he was at peace with leaving this world. His breathing grew shallower and eventually they stopped. I held onto him tighter. I looked up to see a number of grim faces around me and I knew that they knew. Day 23 of the voyage and we had our first casualty. William took Edward from my arms and laid him out carefully along the wall. I made my way back to Mary and took her hand. Even though there was no response from her anymore I simply needed the friend.

When the guard came in the morning with our rations he threw Edward his ration and then when he realised that Edward was not simply asleep he gave a small laugh.

“One less mouth to feed,” I heard him grumble. I was so angry but I was too weak to confront him. He shared out the rest of our rations and then went back to Edward. He picked the frail boy up with one hand and threw him over his shoulder. It angered me so much that they couldn’t even respect the dead. I knew that he would simply be tossed overboard like waste.

Time passed by without anyway of us being able to mark it. We estimated guesses and we also started scraping a tally onto the wall of how many people passed away. I knew that 514 convicts had boarded the Neptune there were probably about 100 in the area I was being held in. I wondered how the others were faring. We had lost 9 by the 84^th day when we arrived at the Cape of Good Hope. I’d heard the guards talking about it on one of my “entertainment” trips. Other than that we didn’t get to see where we stopped. I knew the stop was to collect more supplies and rations. I prayed that we would get some of the rations before too many of us died. When the door swung open we hoped to be greeted with food but instead we were surprised with 12 more convicts. After speaking to them we discovered that they had boarded on a ship called the Guardian which had struck ice and been wrecked off the coast.

“You look well fed compared to everyone else,” one of them sneered at me. I placed my hand on my noticeably rounder belly and that’s when I knew. When I looked back up from my belly she was still looking at me.

“Oh,” she said. “How far along are you?”

“Not sure, the guards…” I couldn’t even bring myself to finish the sentence. She nodded knowingly and looked over at Mary who had not spoken in weeks. She had started getting spots on her thighs and legs but I thought this was the least of her worries.

“She’s got scurvy,” one of them pointed out. I didn’t know much about scurvy all I knew was that it most certainly meant death in this place.

There was a large outbreak of lice. I don’t think there was a single one of us that didn’t have the creepy critters running through our hair and what little clothes we had. Mary deteriorated quickly she developed open wounds, lost teeth, turned yellow and was constantly running a fever. Then just like many others she died. I carved a mark in the ever increasing tally. To think that her entire life came down to one measly little scratch on a wall made me mad. It also made me upset and as I turned from making the mark I ran straight into William who wrapped his arms around me and for the first time in the whole journey I allowed myself to cry.

Two weeks later arrived at the new world. The Promised Land. Our tally had reached 35. We were dragged out of the holding room and put into small boats and were rowed ashore. I was in a boat with people I didn’t recognise. I looked over my shoulder at the Neptune only to see bodies being tossed overboard like they meant nothing. How could any human think another human life mattered so little. I thought then to the small human growing inside me. I put a protective hand on my stomach and hoped that I would be able to protect this little one from the cruel world we lived in. I looked up for the first time at the land we had been taken to. It was beautiful. Land as far as the eyes could see. I prayed with all my might that this new land would be a happy new beginning for my child and I.

Challenge: To write a piece of historical fiction.
Form: Open
Word Count: 4000 words

Actual word count: 4000 words

You can also vote here in the readers choice poll

http://wa.emergent-publishing.com/writing-prompts/readers-choice-poll/

Thank you very much for reading and if you are interested in more this is the story I am using for Script Frenzy this year.

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