Young Writers Society

A/N: Not edited

Cora twisted the brass door knob, surprised at the lack of resistance from both the lock and the door itself. She pushed in with a distinct ease, stumbling into an outlandishly decorated cottage, kicking up the undisturbed thick layer of dust that coated over everything. Glancing behind her, she saw Samuel staring at her with raised eyebrows and wide eyes, leaning backwards away from the door as if he was afraid of some sort of curse being unfurled from the mechanisms inside. Lena, of course, was unbothered by Cora searching the first of the spooky cottages, instead nuzzling the skeleton kitten to her cheek and whispering in the gaps of its skull.

A hollow meow echoed.

Taking another step, Cora quickly evaluated her surroundings. On the walls, multitudes of paintings and photos of half-faded rag-tag groups of people were plastered about, some overlapping others. Without thinking, Cora walked toward the back wall and reached her hand out, wiping off the layer of dust and revealing names etched in loopy markered handwriting. Ayala, Thomas, Daveed, Ishmael, Farah, etc. These photos and photo-realistic paintings seemingly went on forever. Cora followed them, dragging her fingers through the dust until she came across

frantic and scattered writing in total juxtaposition to what she had previously read. DO NOT FORGET THEM, the handwriting said, its letters unevenly spaced and smeared. Below that, in a much more composed style, read, don't forget your humanity, Chelsea. Don't forget who raised you and who shaped you. This eternity is not all who you are.

Cora wiped the dust off of her hands, unsure of how to process the new information. The fact that the cottage looked forgotten left a thin smattering of grime on her consciousness.

A small hand tugging at her shirt caused her to spin around, staring down at Lena who still carried the skeletal kitten on her shoulder. Lena pouted up at Cora, violently sneezed, and then pointed to the small dusty kitchenette in the corner. "I'm hungryyy," Lena signed, pouting.

Cora, sympathetic to Lena's plight, glanced over Lena to see Samuel staring at her expectantly. Then she crouched down to Lena's level and signed, "Why not ask Samuel?"

Lena stomped her foot on the ground, kicking up more dust, sneezing once more before signing, "He told me to ask you." Her eyebrows furrowed in frustration and she sniffled.

Cora stood back up, catching Samuel's eye and signing, "Why does she need my permission? Don't you have food?"

Samuel shrugged, "She wants food from the kitchen -- I'm not here to mess with death-infested or cursed food, so... I directed her to you."

Cora rolled her eyes at Lena's antics, walking over to the kitchenette and staring at the obvious neglect and decay it had suffered through. The color scheme looked outdated at best and never in style at its worst -- neon green cabinets with a teal fridge and a purple stove. Cora cautiously reached out, tugging open one of the cabinets -- unfortunately, it was too late and the entire door crashed down and splintered on the counter. Both Lena and Samuel yelped, with the skeletal kitten hissing and jumping to the floor. Cora's heart beat like a marching band inside of her chest, thumping and out of sync. She took a deep breath and peered inside the cabinet, finding nothing but cans of refried beans and crackers.

She turned to apologize to Lena, only to see the girl march over to the fridge and pull it open before she or Samuel could have a say in the matter.

Instead regret flooded through the cottage, the strong stench of spoiled milk and rotten eggs wafted through the air. Lena immediately slammed the refrigerator door shut, but the damage had already taken its toll. Cora had covered her mouth with her shirt, but that still wasn’t enough to keep her from gagging. She glanced over to Samuel, her eyes watering, seeing that he held his nose closed. The skeleton kitten just yowled, although Cora wasn’t entirely certain if it actually had a sense of smell or not.

Lena booked it out of the cottage, yelling sorries behind her. Samuel was next to follow with the kitten trotting along behind him. Cora took one last visual sweep through the cottage (noting the copious guitars) before following her foster siblings outside. She slammed the door shut behind her, heaving gasps of the underworld air.

“I’m sorry,” Lena vocalized, signing at the same time. “I just thought—“

Samuel stared down at her. “You thought you could get out of eating granola bars.”

She hung her head.

Samuel barked out a laugh, grabbing a granola bar from his pocket and handing it to her. She took it, albeit hesitantly, and unpeeled the foil wrapper. Biting into it, she made a face, handed it back to him, and signed, “Raisins.”

He laughed again, putting the granola bar into his unzipped backpack. “Lena,” he signed, “I don’t know if there’ll be any other food for us to eat down here.”

Lena yawned, once again reminding Cora how late she was keeping them up. Tiredness tickled at the corners of Cora’s vision, once again cognizant of the fact that she hadn’t slept in roughly twenty-four hours at that point. She glanced down at her watch, not even registering the time as Samuel wordlessly handed her a granola bar. She pealed it and bit into it, her mouth salivating at the prospect of actual food.

Devouring it in no time, she signed back to him. “How much food do you have left?”

He licked melted chocolate off of his fingers. “Four and a half bars. Why?”

“I don’t know how long we’ll be down here.”

The semi-cheerful expression on his face fell. “What time is it, Cora?”

She glanced down at her watch once more, flinching. “6 in the morning.”

“Are we… even allowed to rest? Is this a Hades and Persephone type situation?”

Cora stared blankly at him. “A what?”

“Can we eat the food down here or not?”

She gestured into the cottage. “You know the same as me.”