Short Story: Cold World

After a while, Mama came in. She smiled at me and said, “Good morning,” before she bent over Sarah’s crib.

Although secure in her makeshift safe house, she was by no means sheltered from the insidious scratching. The scratching was joined with another sound, one not so alarming in tone. It was a baby’s sob, sounding so hurt and in need. All of these things pounded in the girl's mind. What if it was her baby doll? Her baby needed her. She couldn’t reject her little helpless baby.

A trickle of fear had her lying motionless with her eyes closed, straining to hear the slightest noise. A deep sigh of regret and the pressure of a body by her side made her acutely aware that she wasn’t alone.

The flood of emotions tumbles out. A stream of questions, one after another, is rapidly fired at him - where did he go, why did he leave, and most importantly, why didn’t he say goodbye? All this time she’d spent waiting in the past, suspended in time, unable to receive any semblance of closure or composure. All the pent up emotions rush out of her and guilt flashes in his eyes. "Let’s go inside first,” he says, “I’ll explain what I

As she rubbed her eyes in exhaustion she remembered the adventures of the day before. When she got home she passed out from the excitement and strain on her heart. She reached down to check her leg and sighed with relief to find a replacement was already attached. She looked over at her nightstand and noticed her spare glass waiting for her to put them on. As she got out of bed all she could think about was how rude she was to Sam. She walked into the kitchen to see her mother preparing breakfast. She looked around and did not see Sam. She didn’t know why she expected to see her but she was upset that he was not here. Her mom turned a saw her disappointment and said “He seem in quite a rush to leave he left his job to help you.” She was startled by her answer and rushed out the door ignoring the cries from her mother. She hurried Sam’s farm almost throwing up because of the strain on her heart. When she reached the farm she found an old man working the fields. She rushed over and asked, “Where is Sam?” The old man replied, “I fired him because...” She didn’t let him finish She rushed to the road the taste of blood in her mouth from running. She saw a man walking on the road looking forlorn. She called out, “Sam!” The man stopped and turned it was Sam he answered her, “Joy?” She ran into his arms and started to cry. Sam confused hugged her back. She thought to herself about how a horrible incident led to her

Hayden breathed in sharply and ran out of the room. Out of the Council Hall. He didn’t know where he was going until he got there.

I stood still screaming, panicking in the dimly lit room while the baby of whom I was unconditionally devoted to vibrated unsteadily. Then a light hand gently squeezed the top of my shoulder hand did not have a voice, however it explained my pain would soon be relieved. Her shaking had ceased and the once distressed infant looked peaceful as her clear inexperienced blue eyes shut tightly. Hearing sharp murmurs from behind, I swiveled 180 degrees and murmurs slowly disintegrated into the frothy air, resulting in a women with mousey brown hair and a warm maternal face to start moving towards me as if she had precisely planned each step. The freckles on her flushed face mingled with one another while she spoke, asking if I’d remember to take my

“It is a shame that her father left her...this happened because her mother failed her job as a wife...she is so young...what was her father thinking?”, my relatives whispered as they sipped their tea. My cousin’s face turned pale like the white blanket of snow falling outside the lodge at the camp in Lake Tahoe. Her expression held so many emotions as if it was a canvas of a painting to be gazed upon. I could see that she felt frustrated and tired of these rude remarks, and all I did was just stand there and caressed the back side of her hands, so I could comfort her. Suddenly, it felt like the air had thickened so much that even a hammer could not slash it into tiny bits. My cousin had not yet known why her father left the house yesterday.

Tears stream down Scarlet’s pale cheeks, her head filling with white-hot anger. “W-why did y-you t-t-tell me that?” she hiccups to her mother, Diana. Running a finger along her daughter’s freckled cheekbone, Diana presses her lips against Scarlet’s forehead. Bile rises from deep within her abdomen, but Diana forces the words out anyway. “Darling, you know why.”

She pressed the child close to her and with an unmovable gaze tightened her grip on him, taking in every detail. I paused and watched. I knew that as soon as I told her, the same creamy white walls of the hospital room that once held her uncontrollable euphoria over the birth of her son, would seem harrowing and confining.

The dim lights of morning glow through the crystalline curtains. Like everyday, I smelled the nauseating stench that leaks from my mouth. I sit in the uncomfortable chair that my wife never replaces because she is always “working”. It’s Monday, so I would rather stay in slumber. My wife is making meatloaf with the dreadful peas that change the dish’s aroma to muck. All she does is work and never pays attention to me. The woman is honestly nothing to me. Suddenly, an idea struck me. I shall kill her at the time of saturday's supper. On the day of Tuesday, she laid out a tie which flooded me with anger. Why does she want me to get a job so bad? She constantly jabs me to get a job, but she already has enough jobs for us to keep the house.

Her name is Cindy, Samantha Rose, I see her every week at the hospital I volunteer at. I walk past her on my way to the cafeteria, four times a week when I work as a chef. Cindy sits at the end of the waiting room in a corner by herself, people feel afraid of her, her dark clothes and spiked boots scare other people in the waiting room. When I look at her, all I see is a sweet little girl that's hiding from the cruelty this world holds. A couple of days ago I heard some nurses gossiping about her. I eavesdropped on them--the only humane thing to do. The nurses were talking about Cindy’s medical history. They spoke softly, trying to keep her files confidential. From then on I now know that since the age of thirteen Cindy has been fighting against depression and anorexia.

“Having to leave Donna without her memories was heartbreaking. She grew so much with you and gained so much confidence and she will not remember that. I cried again.”

A week had been and gone, Serena's relationship with Ric still had its vicissitudes. Despite, him knowing her sadness, she could not let herself feel it with him, to her, it didn't seem fair, she blamed herself, she always blamed herself for such tragedies, regarding her children.

She wiped her face and said “I tried to forget him. I really did, but I couldn’t. He’s still torturing me, and I can’t get him out of my head. And the only distraction I had is gone now. I know this will hurt you, but I never wanted to come back. Not while he’s around.”