NOVEMBER 24, 2012 LEAVE A COMMENT
bubbly lovely and fragile, an all smile little girl of intangible fluorescence–a blossom too young yet too quick was how evanescence on innocence flourished like picturesque nightmare in rising tempo of red.
‘mama, i lost barbie in the woods, i go find her please?’
‘dear its already twilight, i look for it in the morning.’
twilight was not simply fair. it was a masquerade of the lurking transition, gradual and impoverishingly, evil.
little susie went anyway.
IT WAS THEN WHEN GOD PLAYED ON LITTLE SUSIE.
she broke her ankle sloping down to where the unknown venture rested smoldering. lil’ susie in red gorgeous dress sprawled, her barbie clad in tight possession as she lay broken on hell’s deep of myriad eccentrics. her wound was deep and blood spill profuse as an appeal for the drooling mystique beasts prowling in circles.
‘oh, mama might be worried deep, i have to go home.’
but immobility was how God put a trick on her as the chill of the night was her heartbeat’s pulse.
the howling wind bellowed laughter,
‘oh, lil’ miss is broken, soon she’ll be wolf’ chow!’
a chilling wolf cry seconded eerily. somewhere an ant beseeched threateningly,
‘hey, i knu’ yo arf in trouble but yore sitting on ma dome, move abit or yore dead meat, pal!’
‘oh, im sorry mister.’
lil susie was stalled for the night like a tempting delicacy on a crocodile’s appraising nose. anxiety high rising like mercury incendiary on peril’s lair.
HOW COULD SHE EVER GET HOME TO HER MAMA WITHOUT BEING PIECED APART?
OR, WOULD SHE EVER GETS HOME AT ALL?
a fluttering butterfly drone around, a charm of colors, appealing, soft and kind yet beneath is marred to taint.
‘oh, sweet miss is stuck. oh, mama help me!’
a chirping cricket in animosity piped in smoke,
‘get the hell outa here kid, you’re too appealing for trouble, stray away or be dead!’
trembling, she clutched on the grit instead on wicked jagged wicks.
‘oh, i’m cut.’
bleeding she snappily sucked on her fingers but realizing too late, the wick embedded cut her lips instead.
‘ow! it hurts. if only mama is here, she knows what to do.’
broken ankle? too paralyzing.
gushing wound? weakening. appealing for peril.
a pool of darkened hue was prominent shade on the ground.
nightfall was barely light. perception was on silhouette’s wave as indication of life or wind. neither was there yet sign of threat yet the strangeness of silence is eerie and spooky.
‘lil’ susie’s afraid.’
a wolf cry..long and durably, goosebumps, then intermittently, of many.
struggle was impossible as hypothermia impeded correct judgment and actions. everything around is an ambiance estrange and unfavorable.
for awhile though, reprieve gave her some sleep after sipping on gathered dew, the moon broke in radiance bathing her in glorious balm yet the hope it left, could it be as flickering candlelight withstand the battering tempest?
grit was not her attribute. tenderness was.
to be durable single-handedly is quite a survival disadvantage but somehow she managed to hang on resiliently yet with the intensifying hypothermia how could she sustain?
crack!
a broken twig.
alarm?
looking at the direction, only the sound of gushing wind was present, mocking.
then, a symphony of rhythmic cacophony. were they wolves?
they were heckling coyotes.
‘got lost lil’ princess? hek hek, want a ride home?’
sniffing her wounds, she bellowed a wolf-like howl, long and a wicked tease.
‘get off you bad, ugly…’, smashing a stick yet too thin, it broke.
past midnight.
at home she should have been sound asleep, clutching at her barbie, dreamily and happy. regularly, was mama’s lullabye before sleep, an enchantment she most often hear in state of euphorical dream but now she wished for it longingly, much so, in this state of secluded solitude.
she scribbled randomly on the ground,
‘oh, dear God make my feet to walk. bring mama here, dear lord, am afraid of them’
but no matter what recourse she attempted, futility was her eternal bind and inevitable, an adjective of her dilemma–indeed it was.
‘hek hek hek’ coyote named scar, after a decision, concluded, ‘eat her!’
so as the story goes…
was she indeed?
it is a memoir inherent of nostalgia somehow, aroused in recollection, how it ends, was something of the Almighty’s decision. it is different for everyone even in like situation.
ending*
walking the streets of hollywood, a man, clutched hands in pockets lazily strolling by, whistling, ‘oh say can you see by the dawn’s early light…’
he kicked on a litter hard that he skidded flip-flop butt stump on the ground. an acrobat of waste flew joltingly astray, tabloid clips scattering by a snap, intermittently ahead.
insignificant rubbish yet something out of it stands out, prominent.
sitting hands down, and dusting off debris, he clarified on the attraction. it is an old article yet somehow nostalgic, monumental. the news read, ‘GIRL RAVAGED BY WOLVES’
what provoked him for recollection was its similitude, an old tale, her grandma susie’s everlasting memory–memoirs of a struggle.
HOW DID THE STORY ENDS?
i just told you how.
**all children by heart, i call them lil’ susie.
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