Emily's Memory

It was evening. The woods were dense, and, hidden in them, was a cottage.  It was a peaceful cottage, home to a peaceful family of two.

In the kitchen, a woman named Lydia, made dinner for herself and her one daughter, Emily. She called her daughter in to eat, who bounded joyfully and speaking quickly.

“Hi, mom! What’s for dinner? Do we need plates or bowls? Spoons or forks? Are we going to use a tablecloth, or just the bare table?”  She had already spread the tablecloth and began setting downs plates and forks before her mother had time to answer.

Smiling brightly, Emily took the warm pot from Lydia and spooned pasta onto each plate.  Lydia poured milk into two glasses and set them on the neatly set table. The two then sat down to enjoy their simple meal.

Not long after, the phone rang. Emily, who was expecting a call from her friend, dashed off to answer it.

She picked up the phone, but did not recognize the number. She held it to her ear. “Hello?” she said.

A man with a husky voice was on the other line. “Emily?” asked the man. “You probably don’t recognize my voice, but I’m your father.  I have wanted to see you for a long time, but I didn’t know where you live."

Emily, not wanting to tell anything to the strange man who, obviously, knew her name, told him that her father was dead, and that if calls again he’ll be in trouble.  She was about to hang up when the man said, “Wait! I have something to tell you.”

Meanwhile, Lydia was beginning to worry. ‘If it were her friend, she would have asked me about going over already. That’s the only call we’re expecting tonight.’ She thought.  She decided to ask Emily who was on the phone, but when she looked over, Emily was not on the phone. She was just standing there crying. Lydia rushed over.

“What’s wrong, Emily? What’s wrong?” Her mother questioned in a worried tone. Pulling together all the strength she could, she whispered, “You lied to me. You lied, mommy, you did. You said daddy was dead, but he’s not dead.  He just called.

Lydia looked at her with a look that showed how sorry she was.  “I did it for your own good.  Your father is a mean man, Emily.  He lies, and he cheats, and, when he’s angry, he beats.  If I told you that he wasn’t dead the first time you asked, you might have wanted to find him, and then you would be in danger, which would make me feel as though I broke a promise I made when you first born.”

Emily had stopped crying.  She was listening  with interest to her mother.  “What promise?”

“When you were first born, I promised you myself that I would do everything I could to keep you away from horrid man.”  Lydia said with a smile.  With that, the two returned to the kitchen and finished their meal.

 

It was late at night.  Lydia had put Emily to bed just a little over half an hour ago.  Now she was reading The Giver in the warmth of a cozy fire.  Someone knocked on the door. Lydia set her book down, stretched, and looked out the window.  In the dim light of a candle , she saw the outline of a man.  She saw that the man was holding some sort of gun.  Her mind began to race; she had to keep Emily safe. Who was this man? What did he want? She had no time to find out.  She locked the door and ran into the room where Emily slept.

This room, covered in soft shades of blue, pink, yellow, was so calming.  It was peaceful, happy, and relaxing.  This was not the sort of room two people would be hiding in if there was a strange man with a gun at the door.

Trying to fight the calming pleas of the room’s wallpaper, she rushed to the bed, where her daughter slept.  “Emily. Emily, wake up! Please, you have to wake up!” Lydia half-whispered, shaking her daughter, who opened her eyes, wondering what time it was. “Please! This is an emergency! Wake up!” Emily’s eyes popped open and she sat up, nearly falling out of bed.

Lydia had only enough time to explain to her what was going on before there was a loud Thud! which shook the whole house.

Emily raced out of the room to see what happened.  Lydia ran after her.  Emily was at the end of the hallway, watching the stranger.  The man, sturdy and heavily built,  was shaking wood chips off his boots. He looked up to see Lydia and a small girl who resembled her in many ways.

“Bill-“Lydia began.

“Now, now,” the man, known as Bill, stated calmly. “I know you don’t like me here, nor do you like the that your door is now on the ground.  However, I have just come here to claim what is rightfully mine, and I’ll be off.  I’ll pay for the door, and be gone.  It would be like I was never here.” Then, turning to Emily, he spread out his arms and called her to him.

“Emily, stay away from him.  Go back to your room, okay?”  Lydia said.

Much to Bill’s annoyance, Emily ran past her mother and into her room, frightened by the man who was her ‘father’.  She could understand why his mother disliked him.

Lydia threw her book at the man and then pushed a bookcase over into his path in an attempt to give her more time to save her daughter.

Inside Emily’s room, Emily clutched her stuffed cat, Mowmow, and listened to her mother. “Now, Emily, I need you to be brave.  This is going to upset just as much as it does me to ask you to do.”

“What?” Emily barely had enough willpower to ask.

“Run. Run as fast as you can for as long as you can, and, when you can’t run anymore, hide. Hide somewhere where no one can find you.  I’m going to drop you out of the window, and I want you to take off and don’t look back.” Lydia’s eyes were wet with tears just asking this, because she knew what Emily was going to ask next.

“What about you?” Emily began crying, too.

“I’m going to fend him off. Then, when he leaves, I will go out and find you again.” Lydia knew that he wouldn’t just leave like that, but she had to tell the girl something soon to make her leave willingly.  Lydia began to fidget with the window.  Short on time and unable to open the window, she grabbed Emily’s wooden rocking horse and threw it out the window.  Glass shattered everywhere.

Lydia hugged her daughter tightly, wishing she never had to let go.  Then, she dropped the girl out the window, gave her a starting push, and turned to face her husband.

 

Slamming the door open in furious rage, Bill had to restrain from shooting Lydia right then and there.  He looked around. The girl was nowhere to be seen.

“Where is she?” he growled, raising his gun.

Lydia said nothing, but took a slight step back toward the window as to hide it from view.

Sweat ran down his cheeks. “You can’t hide her forever, Lydia! I will find her.  You can count on that.  Now I’ll give you one more chance. Where is she?”

Still, Lydia said nothing.

This was not acceptable.  “If you don’t tell me where she is, I will shoot you.

Lydia opened her mouth as if to say something, then closed her mouth abruptly. Lydia promised she would keep Emily safe, and she was going to stick to her promise no matter what.

 

Emily stood at the top of a hill, panting.  She heard a shriek of terror cut off by a gunshot.

“Mommy!” she screamed. She turned around to see a man walking out of her cottage holding her mother’s dead body.

The sun had just began to rise behind him, and she saw as he surveyed the surrounding area. He stared at her. Then, she heard another gunshot. Trying to run down the hill out of his view and possible aim, Emily tumbled to the ground and blacked out.

Reviews

[Summer D.]

Riveting. It was definitely rough and I think you should go over it with a comb once more. Not particularly terrible.. but.. I don't really like the view you wrote it in. It seems almost disjointed? I found it hard to connect to the emotions... I can give you more feedback in a PM if you'd like?

Not bad but needs more work.
I found.. the window part.. somewhat unbelievable. I think it'd help if you put my critical mind to ease and specified the height from the window to the ground.

Keep Writing Grey!

YT,

Summer

[Tina Kline]

This is really good. It's very tense. I can see this as a bigger story, filling the reader in on what led up to the point in the story and what came after. is Emily dead too or did she survive? I enjoyed this story a lot.

[Jamillet]

WHAT????? NO!!!!!! NOOOOO!!!! EMILY!! LYDIA!!!! HOLY JEEBUS THAT WAS A GOOD STORY! I SHOULD GET OFF THE CAPS-LOCK NOW! anyway this was a great story oh my gosh scary but awesome i would have been like a bullet out that door, so sad, suspenseful but amazing! great imagery :)