TW:MENTIONS OF ANIMAL DEATH

Katrina, 6

“Mom… when are we gonna get home…. I’m hungry…” Katrina groans, kicking the seat infront of her.

“Katrina Vivian Marcelo! Do not kick any of my seats unless you want to walk home.” Her mother responds, glaring at her from the rear view mirror.

“But I’m bored!!” Katrina argues back, Katrina is convinced that this is the home run of an answer, how could her mom find anyway around it? Especially on a day so boring and rain filled as the streets. All the ‘rain, rain, go away’ chants in the world couldn’t seem to make it slow.

“You know what… if you’re so bored… count the trees!” Her mother responds with a tone that means finality.

So, Katrina begins to count, taking this job like a militant assignment.

Around 41, Katrina’s eyes begin to feel heavy. As she stumbles towards sleep a tan creature pops from the woods.

The girl, instantly energizes. “BAMBI!” Katrina lifts herself from her car seat, high enough to see through the space in the car seat headrest.

Her mother, immediately hits the breaks as the doe comes barreling out onto the small two lane backroad.

The confused doe fretfully runs closer to the hurling hunk of metal as it attempts to slow.

With a crash the deer, Bambi, is brought to the ground. Sliding slowly towards the middle line of the two lanes as its body loses life.

“BAMBI!” Katrina exclaims after seeing the now dead doe slide closer to her side of the car.”Mommy! YOU KILLED BAMBI! SHES DEAD!” The child screams as sobs and snot forms. “Where’s her mommy?” Katrina asks through her throaty cries.

“Well… I’m sure that deer was older than Bambi, honey, maybe since it’s gone to deer heaven now, it can see it’s mommy again.” Katrina’s mother attempts to comfort. Her own hands still white knuckled to the wheel as they begin to drive off.

“You mean it? So she won’t be alone again ?” Katrina asks looking up at her mother. Katrina decides this is the worse fate of the deer. Being alone, motherless, and probably cold.

“So when I die… I’ll see you again?” Katrina asks again, wiping the tears from her eyes onto her paisley coat.

“Yeah honey, You’ll see me. But even if I leave… it never means you’re alone alright?” Her mother questions , slowly loosening her grip on the wheel as a black Hummer drives by.

“Alright, Mommy.” Katrina responds, a small smile returning back to her face. Katrina lifted herself up from her seat again to look back at the dead creature. Now just a tan blob. Which, even though it sat lonely in the road. Katrina was sure it wasn’t alone.

Keith, 49

Keith finally understood the phrase. “Felt the noose tightening.” Honestly it perfectly described his whole life up to this point. Meetings, meetings and more meetings. He can barely keep track of it all.

For example, he went from memorizing the names of his clients and writing a little notecard about them. ‘Elsa, 38, avid mountain back biker, has a dog named Mischa’, to writing quickly in his notes app ‘Meerkat looking guy- name might start with B’

To remind himself why he did it, he felt the cool leather on his steering wheel. The almighty dollar.

Still glowering, Keith bemoaned having to take the stupid backroads, he bemoaned the rain, the trees, the everything.

Keith noticed up ahead, a small tan blob. As he got closer, braking to an anxious stop, he saw it was just a deer and started back up with caution.

Keith had always found it pretty stupid how pretty stupid deer were. As his car slowly drove ahead he heard a clicking and crunching noise from below the wheels. Bones. Deer must have slid around a bit with this biblical rain.

He frowned as he sped up and away from the creature. It, just like him, was forever alone.

Gabrielle’s (Gabby) P.O.V

I mess with my dress that has little mermaids on it. Mama told me to dress up because she said that a very important guest was coming over.

I sat on the couch watching My Little Pony, while mommy and daddy ran around setting the table and making dinner.

As soon as Mama and Daddy finish there is a knock on the door. They both looked nervous almost scared so I gave them my best smile and stood beside them as they opened the door.

“Hello, Mr. Hart!” My mother says and shakes the big man’s hand, “This is my husband, Xander, and my seven-year-old daughter, Gabby.” I give him a shy wave.

He ignored me and said, “Nice to meet you both. May I come in?” His voice scares me.

“Yes, Yes, of course!” My parents moved away right away, bringing me with them.

They started speaking in hushed tones and Mr. Hart scary man looked like he was starting to get mad.

My dad bent down on one knee and said, “Go into the kitchen and wait for us there, okay honey?”

“Okay, dada.” I could sense his uneasiness so I just decided that doing what he said without complaint would be best.

I had an extremely bad feeling about the big scary man. I stayed in the kitchen until it was impossible ignoring their yells and cries. I slowly emerged from the kitchen hiding behind a piece of furniture to see what was happening.

I saw my mama crying and my daddy still yelling while Mr. Hart stood there smirking and slowly pulled out a gun. Then the room goes silent once a loud boom goes off then everything becomes a blurry mess as I run out of my hiding spot to my mom on the ground, eyes closed.

My father just stood there, then collapsed like he couldn’t… Couldn’t what? I’m not sure.

His tear-filled eyes were solely on my mom and me. I was trying to wake up my mom when I heard my throat clear. I looked up at Mr. Hart, not understanding what was happening, with my mom’s blood-staining my favorite dress.

He looked right into my eyes for the first time and said, “Never forget that a Hart has no heart.” That made my father very mad.

“Don’t you dare talk to my daughter you coward!”

My dad got up and looked like he was about to punch Mr. Hart, but Mr. Hart looked at me than my father and it was like they had a silent conversation with only their eyes before Mr. Hart left. He reminded me of the bad guy in a movie.

Alexander’s (Xander) P.O.V

Mr. William Hart is coming over for dinner. My wife, Julia, owes him quite a bit of money that we have yet to pay up. We are hoping that he will give us some more time to pay it all up.

This night is very important for us so we have to make sure everything will work out. Julia and I rush to make sure everything is spotless for tonight. Hopefully with Gabrielle here, Mr. Hart will be less inclined to do anything too drastic.

Finally, the moment I’ve been dreading for days, the bell rings. We open the door for Mr. Hart and immediately I have a good feeling about tonight. We quickly introduced ourselves and let him in. I don’t say much, knowing that this is something that Julia should handle on her own. I’m just here for support and to help when I see fit.

When I realized that things were escalating fast I told Gabby to leave and go to the kitchen. I get extremely angry once I realize that Julia is crying and start to yell at Mr. Hart with my wife holding my shoulders back to make sure I won’t do something I might regret.

Next thing I know there is a loud bang and I find myself helpless staring at the scene. My legs give out. I couldn’t take it anymore. At that moment I wanted to give up. I physically couldn’t take my eyes off of the woman I love.

That was until I heard that 𝙢𝙤𝙣𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧 dare speak to 𝚖𝚢 poor, innocent, and sweet daughter. I don’t know when I stood up or if I even said anything but all I could focus on was the fact that I wanted to kill him with my own bare hands. But I didn’t, I couldn’t.

One look at him just to see him looking from my daughter to me, giving me a pointed look told me all that I needed to know. I can’t lose my daughter as well. After that I silently watched him leave. Talk about an evil man.

Everything exploded. Sounds of screams filled the air as people ran past him.

Just screaming and laughing as they carried fire.

Before it started he was with his family, and not a care in the world. Now the end was near.

He somehow got separated from those he loved. He never knew this kind of thing could exist. The sheer terror, that he felt in this moment was unlike anything he ever felt.

He looked around and saw many loud colors. Rooted to the spot he began to cry. People still rushed past him. These people were chaotic, and wild. He didn’t know what to do.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

The noise never stopped, continued to get louder. A group of people started walking by carrying strange metal objects. These created loud noise too. His ears began to pound inside his head, as he frantically swiveled his head back and forth looking for any safe haven.

When he was about to give up hope he finally saw a familiar face. Gathering all the courage he had he raced across the sea of unpredictable people, screaming the whole way. His feet pounding into the gray hard ground to propel him forward as fast as he could. The man spotted him and he leapt into his arms. He was picked up and gently held.

“There you are Billy!” The man said. “We have been worrried sick looking for you. Isn’t this great?”

He only whimpered and buried his face in his grandpas chest.

His grandpas tensed and began stroking his head. “It’s okay Billy, it’s only the 4th of July parade! It’s a fun time with fireworks, music and food. Come on, let’s get you a hot dog!”

With that his grandpa began walking away from the large crowd of people. He dared glance over his grandpas shoulders, and saw all of the loud colors exploding in the sky again.

He would later learn the name of the loud colors that imprinted terror so deeply in his heart.

Fireworks.

“It’s too cold, it’s so dark, why do we have to wake up so early, can I go back to bed after this?” Whined 7 year old Danyal. His grandmother had woken him up at 4:30am on a Saturday to watch his first sunrise on the first day of half-term.

“It will start getting brighter any second now, just keeping sipping the hot chocolate, and you’ll be as warm and cosy as you were before came out here”, she reassuredly said, she was being patient, as she had been for the most of her life. She knew a moment like this on it’s own wouldn’t have a profound impact on the boy, but it would be an experience that perhaps years later he would appreciate and perhaps even willingly indulge in when the the world, his homework and his video games weren’t competing for his attention.

“I can see it now, you know when you’re in a dark place for a long time your eyes can see clearer after a while, they adjust to the light, or the lack of it, we learn’t that in science”, Danyal said with some enthusiasm.

“It’s the start of a new day, this is the most wonderful thing in the universe we’re about to witness, light from the Sun”. She said to him kindly.

“Chocolate milk is the most wonderful thing in the universe, then the Sun”, he said back to her with a cheeky smile. It was one of his goofy jokes, but she loved him for that, his sense of humour, it was a part of his character, and it reminded her of childhood.

“The sunrise signals new beginnings, new opportunities to do good things, the start fresh, full of energy after a rested night’s sleep” she said with a thoughtful smile on her face. For her this was life itself being reawakened, refreshed, a day full of time for her to live her life the best she could, with what limited time she had left on this Earth.

“Don’t you need a full night’s sleep before you can be full of energy, I’m full of energy when I’m doing something fun and forget the time. Sitting here in the dark waiting for the Sun to wake up is making me think about how slow time is when you’re bored”, he replied, as kindly as he could, but also as brutally honestly as he felt.

“That’s exactly why we’re here, to spend this time enjoyed a wonderous moment. You know, I won’t always be here and I want you to have these moments as memories of good times with your Grandmother”. She said as she closed her eyes and sighed a little.

“I know, but I would rather help you with something, or we can play a game, I can teach you how to play a game, that’s a fun memory”, again he was being polite, but honest.

“I would love to play a game with you, and you can teach me anytime, but sunrises are a once a day opportunity, and you have so many years ahead of you to enjoy them as you get older, as a reminder of time”. She wasn’t sure how to finish her sentence but believed that it worked to make her point as best she could given the circumstances.

“That’s a cool golden glow starting”, he said.

“As the sunshine slowly reaches us enjoy the glow, the warmth, it really will give you the energy boost you need to start your day fresh.” She was now trying to apply logic without explaining the science, something he found a little difficult to comprehend, but perhaps it was a generational thing.

“You get a lot of your light from electronic devices however the Sun is the ultimate source of light for us all”. She said to him.

As the light reveals all the details once shrouded in shadows the young boy stares wonderously at what once was concealed.

“Since I’m awake so early will I have a longer day?” He asks his grandmother.

“You will have a long day filled with hope and aspirations, right after breakfast. Did you enjoy the sunrise?” She replies with a smile on her face, knowing where his line of questioning was most likely leaning.

“So I can play my video games from now?” He asks as wholeheartedly as a yound child can for what they believe is their deepest desire.

“Yes, and thank you for getting up so early and sharing this with me, I feel like my day too will be filled with hope, hope that you’ll brush your teeth before you start gaming?” She asks knowing he wouldn’t have understood why she wanted him to experience this yet, but hoping with all her heart that one day when he’s older he’ll understand the significance of the monent.

Her greatest desire was to experience a beautiful moment with her grandchild and see him happy, and she knows what makes him happy is hot chocolate and video games, for now. But one day he’ll see another sunrise and remember his grandmother when she’s long gone, and know that she loved him and loved for him what he loved for himself.

The warmth of the sun beaming on their skin starts their day with optimism for the future, even if that future only accounts for breakfast for now.

Danny strode in like he owned the place, and his worn plaid flannel and jeans did not match his demeanor. He leaned against the booth and made a few selections, one arm above his head keeping his balance. The other hand intermittently stroking a beard of patchy white while trying to make a decision.

June was working the table where voters sign in, and had watched a few hundred people do this very ritual already. She was small, bashful, pale, and startled the older citizens with her short blue hair and nose ring. Her eyes caught Danny’s when he was wrapping up, and he shot her a grin. She could see the black under his fingernails which told her that he worked hard wherever he worked.

As he was leaving, Danny thanked June and the other two women for their service. The impact of his boots echoed in the small room for each of his nine steps to the door. As it closed behind him one of the older ladies giggled and remarked that he still looked as he good in high school some thirty years ago. Maybe even better.

Once the station closed, June headed north on Center Street to the Howard’s Bar and Grill, where she and a couple of friends agreed to watch the election results. The crowd here leaned younger, mostly folks in their 20’s and 30’s. But tonight the place was packed. Gaineyville showed up in force to see what kind of future they would embark on tonight.

As June approached the bar for a few beers she was slowed by the frame of the man in the seat near the corner of the bar. He looked familar from behind, but she couldn’t definitively place him since he must have changed clothes from earlier. As she came to a halt at the bar and flagged down the keep, she turned to her left and said hello. She introduced herself quickly as if to rip the bandaid off of the awkward scab between them.

Danny, who she was earlier assured by his beat up flannel, dirty hands, and attitude was certainly voting for the red team. His rowdy friends extending a handful of seats toward the door propped up that assessment.

So June stood there, leaning against the counter since she didn’t know what else to do with her hands. She felt the sleeve of her shirt sticking slightly to the bar under her elbow. She decided to speak up, and offered “Saw you at the station earlier, thinking your guy will win?” as a starter.

Danny took a sip of her seemingly light beer, and upon setting the mug back down on the bar, shot a grin June’s way before replying that he “wasn’t voting for a guy”. His smile grew as he saw the clue get worked out by June in real-time. She looked confused initially, then surprised, then relieved. As she was about to respond, the bartender repeated himself yet again to ask what she was having. In the best mood she’d been in all week, she asked for “a beer for me and my friend”.

The grocery store is sooooo boring! The little girl didn’t want to go aisle to aisle with one like two of them having stuff she cares about.

Her Granny promised her some candy for coming with her. That makes the boredom a little easier to swallow.

Turning into another aisle, the little girl gasps.

A girl with pretty pink hair is grasping a cereal box.

“Look Granny! A fairy!”

OoOoO

She is really tired. The last thing she wants to do is drag her granddaughter to the market, but she needs to make dinner. Her daughter works hard as a doctor and deserves a hot meal ready when she gets home.

Grabbing the ingredients, she sighs as she promises her granddaughter some candy. It settles her which is a relief. She knows she is losing her patience with her, but she just wants to get home and cook.

Crossing off another thing on her list with her pencil, she remembers that she jeeds cereal. Her granddaughter refuses to eat anything else for breakfast, so she’ll need another box.

Once they turn into the cereal aisle, a young woman, probably in her early twenties, is blocking the brand of cereal her granddaughter likes. She has bright, neon pink hair.

“Young people these days. Just don’t care about being classy anymore,” she mutters under her breath. “How do they expect anyone to take them seriously?”

The worlds an open book With fairytales are world Made up stories and we’re Liveing in one oh oh are Storie is so odd i don’t know How to explain it i just feel So odd in this big world

This big world is are book That we write in page to page So don’tpretend it’s fate we all know its not Oh oh theres a plot a plot that No no ones ready for are you ready To explore your picture book With lions And dinosaur’s no ones ready for

Are worlds made up stories long Long ones on big big paragraphs Somewhere there’s just you doing your First laugh then that book writes in What your going through page to page Page to page it never leave es you hanig Untill the end of the mountain mountain

Just wait right there you’llfind your Chapter no mater how long it takes You’ll gardian angel will make sure Of it just you wait Just you wait i’ll come rub it in your face Just you wait i’ll come and Show you my book chapter 5 is the moment I come alive in my picture book My picture book

With fairies and mermaids. All the wonderful miracles miracles oh oh Miracles can be found in the darkness You just need to find That light in the end of the cave with fairies You may say theres no such thing If of magic and fairytale’s but hey hey Your wrong just you wait

“It’s a … cup,” Nell said.

“I know right,” Haley said. “isn’t it simply gorge.”

Crowds of people bustled around them. An ocean of gleeful grabbing hands reached for the boxes of thermal cups. Blinking in confusion, Nell watched the towering stack of boxed cups be swarmed.

“Does it do something else? I bet it connects to the internet. You can text,” Nell said.

“No, it’s—“

A brilliant flash blinded Haley. Nell put her hand up to shield her granddaughter’s eyes. Several girls were taking selfies with their cups while a brightly colored young gentleman was being filmed unboxing his prize.

“It’s so heavy and boxy. I bet you can email all your little friends. Wait, not email Jojo told me about the new one on Thanksgiving, Facebooktime, no. ‘Gram, no. TikTok, yes! You can do those tickety tocking with your big cup,” Nell said, clapping because she’d remembered those funny cat videos with the man’s voice her grandson had shown her.

“No, Grand, it’s a cup, just a cup. Well not just a cup. But you can only drink with it,” Haley explained.

Raucous, the crowd around them streaming to the thermal cups grew. Elbows were out as shoppers jostled for the last handful of boxes. Someone pushed someone else into a display of soccer balls.

“But for 75 bucks, you can at least chirp with it,” Nell said as she turned the box around and shook it.

“What! Chirp like a bird no you mean tweet. It’s not even called that anymore. No, Grand. You can’t tweet or do any social media. It’s a cup, a big old cup. Keeps your water cold or hot. You can decorate it with your Criket. Of course, you hashtag when you get one. They had been sold out for forever. Weeks and weeks.”

Tussling over the last boxes of thermal cups ratcheted up. A large guy with four boxes was tackled by a pack of middle school girls. Nell led Haley away from the melee and closer to the sporting goods store’s bank of cash registers.

“So it’s like that Power Puff Girls Thermos I got you that Christmas in your lunchbox. I got up at three in the morning to pick you up and drive you to this Children of the Corn shopping center by five then wait until the store opened at seven for a lunchbox thermos,” Nell said smirking as she handed the box back to Haley.

With a quivering upper lip, Haley added, “Grand, this is a sick Watermelon Moonshine 40 ounce Lainey Wilson. This tumbler is going for $250 on eBay and I got it. We got it. It’s lit!”

Spinning like a ballerina, Haley unboxed the cup and held up the ginormous tumbler in gleaning metallic fuchsia and bottle green. A guy ran by and ripped the cup from Haley’s hand. Lightning fast, Nell clotheslined him with her forearm and the thief hit the concrete like a sack of cement.

“Grand!”

“Did I ever tell you about your mother and the great Beanie Baby riot of 1995? Your uncle Jimmy broke his collarbone but we got that Zippy Black Cat,” Nell said, dusting off her hands. “I will tell you everything over waffles.”

Picking up her granddaughter’s cup as well as the thief’s hot pink Starbucks tumbler Nell guided her granddaughter to checkout. Sirens blaring, a pair of black and white patrol cars pulled up in front of the sporting goods store. Arm in arm, heads together, the pair headed away from the fray and out to the parking lot.

Her body laid among glass shards, dented black mental and steady streams of blood running down the fragmented vehicle.

It was almost an art peice. The kind the edgy artist who stayed in the corners of the highschool. Face painted in only backs and undeserved hatred to the world would heil like a God.

Not her. She analysed it with a displeasured faced, her golden eyelashes fluttering at her brow as she observed the scene from afar. One of the many in a crowd of murmuring, shrieking pedestrians.

Her mouth was open, revealing the offshade white and shitty piercing behind her lip in its full glory. It was endearing in a sense that this many people. Little connection but the red blood rushing theough their veins hailed at her black flower dress. Reached towards her with shaky resolves and called numbers of nonesense.

She walked away.

She could balme it on the ache of her feet, the hour jorney to her college finally having its piercing consequences vibrate theough her skin.

Or the peering clouds moving further into the eyes of the pedestrians as the building of magnitude could no longer hide it.

Say that the eyebags that rested at her cheeks clawed at her skin- to the point sleep could have grabbed at her at any moment.

It would be false but it wasn’t distain. Or sorrow that dilled her. Now even a sense of her own mortality.

It was as simple as pure indifference.

…

“I want that.” The little girl clutched on her pink fluffly toy pulling it away from her chest as she pulled her mothers dress.

An ugly bright yellow that made her face cringe and turn towards the newest artifact on the high street.

Her mother face remaied unreadable from her height. Her hands were clutched over her mouth, the brown hair pulled into bun-lightly shaked and a small gasp slipped from her mouth.

The girl did little to acknowledge the actions as she faced back towards the black dress. Following the bright red to the gold ring by her finger.

Her mother had one, she believed her father had one when he came back from his overseas trip yet she did always see him slip it back on within the deiveway.

She wanted one. No, desired - yearned for it. To wait for someone( her mother had informed her) was too much for her small kind to comprehend.

At the absence of her mother reaction she let out a small grunt as she took a step foward. Then another, each quick to her journey before a small crunch reounded from her feet.

It was then a tight grab, almost too similar to how her nanny started her discipline, pulled her back.

Her mother grabbing her shoulders. Haste words flying out.

“Dont look.”

“Oh no no no.”

“Poor girl.”

“So viel.”

“Disgusting.”

It was little to stop the repeating mantra in her head. A costant combination of sounds ‘i want that.’ As she faced the fallen body.

I was friends with these people. They made cruel jokes. Jackson continued to demonstrate how his brother on the spectrum walked and talked, I stared at him but said nothing. We were friends after all, and everyone else was laughing. Was it funny? I picked at my own skin as my lips curled into the fakest smile and I chuckled a bit to fit in. I glanced to Mr. Smith, our English teacher. He had a frown and his brows furrowed while his glasses drooped lower on his nose, but why didn’t he say anything?

I heard him clear his throat and stare at me. Silently. I looked away and my smile dropped. Why did I feel guilty? I wasn’t the one who was making ableist jokes here, nor was I the teacher just letting it happen.

---

I watched my favorite student goof off. He and the class laughed and it took me a moment to register what they were talking about. I wasn’t sure how to approach the subject and tell him to sit back down. I was the cool teacher, and didn’t want to be seen as lame. But the more I listened and watched, the more frustrated I became by the students’ ignorance. It was a good learning experience and right as I cleared my throat to speak, I glanced at him— Evan, the only student failing my class. He stared at me like he was confused and I stared right back. He looked away from me. I thought, he should be ashamed for laughing at these jokes, but then I wondered to myself why he wasn’t telling Jackson to just stop. Jackson would listen to him. They were practically inseparable and talked all class period. Is he scared to speak up?