This is in the right topic area if you're wondering. The fantasy parts comes toward the middle not the beginning so yeah.
I have a loose idea about what I want to do with it, but this is just where I started myself at. I would love if you guys would read and critique! It is long, and I'm sorry, but it was the only way for it to make sense.
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Footsteps are inches from my scurry away from them. It did nothing but make them run faster towards me. This cannot be happening, I mutter in my thoughts.
“You’re going to have to stop sometimes, Elizabeth!” No, actually I don’t have to, Nathanael. Looking quickly behind me, they’ve seemed to stop. Up ahead was a library complex. Then I run like hell to its doors thankful they were open.
A woman wearing a basic pencil skirt and navy sweatshirt looks at me with curious green eyes. “Do you need some help?” She asks. I swiftly shake my head back and forth, but she won’t give in. “I-Is someone following you, dear?”
“No,” I give the woman a gentle smile, walking towards the children's center. It’s filled with colorful books ranging in thickness and height.
A little girl with black, curly hair sits on a cushion with a grim line on her cherubic face. She’s flipping through all the pages; just flipping. Back and forth, back and forth. “Ugh!” She cries, throwing the book. Her sparkly blue eyes look up at me, tears sliding down her face.
“What’s wrong?” I ask in a soft voice, sliding down to her size. She looked about three or four years old. Where are your parents? Her dark curls fall into her face.
“I can’t read,” she sobs, her head falling into her small hands. Who knew little kids could be so stubborn about not being able to read?
“It’s okay. You’re just a little young.” She glares at me, her eyes full of venom. What venom a little child could carry that is. “I didn’t read till I was six.” That was a lie, but it was for a kid, so who really cared? She didn’t know. Did she? No.
“B-b-but Mommy says I must learn to read.” Her voice seems even smaller, and automatically I’m scared for her. I scan over her little body. Everything seems normal, except that just under the cuff of her dress, a yellowing bruise covers her pale, smooth skin. My heart clenches. She probably fell, I told myself, kids fell down all the time. But no matter how many times I told myself that, it never quite sunk it. It was there, just in the back of my mind. Cowering from the truth.
“What’s your name, honey?” The dark curls, slightly pink cheeks, and overall features remind me of someone. I shake the thought away. It was distant, like a hand gently sliding across your forehead. It was there and gone the next second.
“Mariella .” She speaks her R’s like W’s. It’s something that always makes me smile. I did the same thing when I was small.
“That’s a very pretty name, Mariella.” Slowly, she moves towards me, snuggling into my lap. At first I’m shocked, but then I just let her lay there. It felt natural, I stroked her curls. “Where are you parents, Mariella?” I whisper.
“They’re gone.” She whispers back to me, not moving an inch. But her grasp on my coat jacket tightens.
“Where to?” I need to get her somewhere safe. The library was going to close any minute now, and since her parents are gone then I’ll have to do something. “Have you got any idea?”
“I can’t remember.” A tear slides onto my jeans, creating a dark spot among the other light fabric of the jean. I stroke her hair one more time, lingering on her forehead creating tiny swirls. Invisible swirls that always soothed me when I was her age. Her small sigh filled my hears, I slowly pulled away so she wouldn’t notice I’d stopped.
“I’m going to go take a look. Can you promise to stay right here, Mariella?” I looked at her sternly, but at the same time causally. She nods her small head and pulls out another book and struggles to read it.
First, I look through the children’s center, hoping that there was a mother or a father childless at the moment. None. A little boy, about seven, sat nearby on one of the cushions reading out loud to his mother. The librarian sat at her desk, dozing off. There was still the adult section, and the entertainment which held anything from audio books to old video tapes. The adult section seemed logical enough, so that’s where I headed.
Windows. Nothing but windows made up one wall of the adult section. Outside was creepily dark, shadows moving across the what looked like damp grass. It’s nothing, I tell myself. The old woman I ran into coming in, sat in a chair near one of the windows slowly reading an old paperback novel. No notice to me at all, which I guess was a relief. Other than her, the place was deserted.
Taking a deep sigh, I walked down the narrow hallway to where the entertainment section was. The light flickered over head, I listened instead of moving. Nothing. no one was in here. The librarian, who was alert and writing very quickly on a sheet of paper, glares at me when I walk up to the desk. “What do you need?” She snaps.
“U-Uh, I’m looking for the parents of a little girl? Have you seen them?” The soft sound of my sneaker tapping the wooden floors fastens itself.
“She came in here with a fellow about ten years old. He left soon after. I suppose he forgot her when he left.” Seriously? Brothers were annoying – trust me, I live with three of them – but they never forgot their little siblings. The story didn’t match up, I gave her the stink eye.
“Do you know the family?” I mutter, trying to get at least some information to get her home. Does no one care about a little girl who’s obviously been here all day? Alone? Obviously not.
“The Bennetts’. They live just up the street. It’s a country cottage that’s painted a lovely shade of yellow. You can’t miss it.” She said quickly, turning away from me with her papers in hand. In other words she dismissed me.
“Thanks,” I snicker, walking back towards the children’s section.
She did as she was told, and sat with the book resting on her knee. Since the library didn’t close for another ten minutes, I thought I would read a story to her just to see if anyone came for her. The rough edges of the books scratch at my back as I slide next to her, taking the book from her hands. She smiles and rests her head on my lap. At first I’m shocked, but afterwards I figured she just wanted the comfort.
“You’ll read to me?” She says excitedly. I nod.
Cinderella. That’s what she wanted me to read to her. She sighs happily as I begin to read. “Once upon a time,” I whispered. She didn’t make it beyond the first three pages.
Leaning over her slightly, her eyes slowly close and she’s fallen asleep. I heave her into my arms and wobble as I try to get up from the ground. She stirs a little but rests her head on my shoulder, her legs wrapping sleepily around my waist. “It’s going to be okay. I promise. I’ll get you home.”
Walking through the glass doors to the library’s atrium, the librarian looks at me. “What?” I said softly, scowling at her. “Someone has to take her home.”
Not waiting for her reply, I wrap Mariella into my jacket. She’s small enough that there’s just enough room. The cold, November air whips at my face, and I hid behind her mass of curls. Please, I thought weakly, don’t let him be following me. Just let me get her home.
Even though nothing follows me – us – my pace still quickens like normal. Mariella is so quiet that I think she’s died in my arms, stopping for a minute I press my hand against her back. Her chest rises and falls softly and she lets out a sigh. The librarian who I swear wanted to kill me or at least put a curse on me was right, her house wasn’t hard to miss. It was almost fairy tale like among the modern looking houses.
But that wasn’t what shocked me. What shocked me would be that no lights were on. Something didn’t feel right. Something didn’t make sense. Even though the cars were in the driveway, parked silently in the space, no one was home. Heaving Mariella’s weight on my other hip, I went up to the door and knocked loudly.
“Hello?” I announce loudly, but still quietly. There was no response. I took a deep breath, it was shaky. The door was unlocked, cracked a bit. Do not go in there, Elizabeth! The message flashes through my mind. Take the kid and just go home. But did I listen? No.
I pushed the heavy door open, and she stirred in my arms and lifted her head off my shoulder. “Huh?” She says confusingly. Why couldn’t she just have stayed asleep? It would have made this so much better.
I step out of the doorway and give her my best smile. It feels fake, like I’m lying to her. “Can you do me a favor, honey?” I asked her. It was my only hope of protecting her that I could muster.
“Yupp.” She rubs at her eyes and gives me a little smirk. Who would just forget someone so cute? So adorable? I shook my head and the thoughts away.
“Can you put your head down on my chest, just under my chin and shut your eyes so hard I’ll think you’re sleeping?” My voice comes out soft and soothing.
“Like this?” She lays her head down, and I lean my head down to look at her eyes. Which are closed so tightly, I can see her eyeball’s every move.
“Not so tightly,” she loosens up her hold and it looks like she’s sleeping. Good, I tell myself. “That’s better. Now don’t move till I tell you, okay?”
“Got it,” her voice comes out soft like the wind. A whisper, only it was much more softer than that. It was like she knew what I was trying to do. Foolish, babies can’t read your mind. My conscious kicks in.
Shoving the door open, it had made no sound. Bile rose to her throat, it smelled of – I gulped a breath of air – blood. Coppery and filled with death. Mariella whimpered under my chin, I tightened my grip around her back. “Shh, it’s okay.” I coo.
Even though I’ve never been here before, my hand finds the light switch. With almost every house, the light switch was bound to be right inside the door. I was right, but it cackled softly and didn’t flicker on. Damnit, I said over and over. Besides the smell, everything looked normal. A number of coats lie on the bench on the right side of me, with two newspapers perfectly stacked on top of each other.
You have to put her down. Hide her. You know you can’t take her. There’s something here. You know it. My conscious was like a whole other person that lives inside me. It’s the insightful, cautious Elizabeth. The one that made most sense. But I never listened. Shut up, I snarled.
Then Mariella screamed. The sound pierced through my ears, reaching through my heart. Somewhere between talking with myself, she had lifted her head up at was staring at something behind me. Taking a gulp of air, I slowly turned. The living room was just to the back of me, it should have been the first place I went to.
Sitting on a chair, motionless, was her mother. You knew because she had Mariella’s curls, the dark ringlets. Sleeping, she could be sleeping that’s all. I tell myself, but no matter how many times I do, the worry doesn’t subside. “Mariella.” My voice shakes.
“Y-y-yes?” She cries, keeping her head under my shoulder. Still looking at the living room, I lift her head up. She presses harder against my shoulder.
“It’s okay, you won’t see anything.” She lifts her head and stares into my eyes. Her face is lined with dry tears. “I want you to stay right there by the door. Curl up in a ball and I’ll come and get you. okay?”
“Don’t let me down, please.” She tightens her legs against my hips, grabbing a handful of my tee-shirt.
“I don’t want to, but you have to, Mariella. It isn’t an option.” My voice is stern, but still shakes. I’m starting to sound like my mother, I groan silently. I hope I didn’t sound too harsh.
“Okay,” she whimpered and reluctantly unloosened herself from me. Setting her on the floor gently, I stroke her hair and kiss her forehead. Leading her towards the front door, she slides down and looks up at me. “Don’t forget me.”
I never knew a child so young could sound so much older than she was. My breath shakes as I take hesitant steps toward the living room. It’s dark and I can’t see much, but the light from the window helps some. “Elizabeth…” the voice whispers, sending chills down my spine.
The voice, his voice, catches off guard and I slip. It’s thick and sticky underneath my boot, a gasp escapes my mouth. Finally I reach Mariella’s mother and look to find blood dripping from her wrists, her face turned into something between pain and shock. Maybe a little bit of both. Her father lies next to her, his throat bleeding. I’m the one who screams this time. That’s when I know what’s on the floor is syrup, or water. A sinister laugh, barely a whisper, fills the shadows. He followed you. He killed her family. Leave. Leave now, Elizabeth. Slowly I back my way out towards the hallway.
“Mariella?” I whisper, still focusing on the living room. She whimpers – thank goodness – and I whisper again. “Take my hand.” Her small hand finds mine and I lift her onto my hip. Quickly turning on my heels, I reach the doorknob and I run. I run with Mariella anywhere but that house. There were deeper things about taking a child, but she had no parents, not anymore. That was only the beginning…
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That critique was for the other story that was listed under this post. I deleted and thought better of the space and just posted a different one on there so just overlook it, please [[:
