The Searching

part one

The rhythm of the bass was felt in her chest as she took one deep breath after another. She did this every day after school.  Most days it amounted to nothing, but other days she could honestly say she felt refreshed afterwards.  Other days she felt haunted, as if she had taken in some new, negative energy there that refused to show itself and refused to let go.  

Her searching was called vain by many, even by those closest to her.  Yet she searched with the tenacity of one who knows better than to trust those who criticized.  One day, as she took a deep breath and the rhythm of the bass vibrated through her chest, she felt a gnawing sense in her stomach.  

Open your eyes.

She started to do so and then suppressed the urge.  Wise men never fully trusted impulses.  Again, a voice seemed to say,

Open your eyes.

This time, she didn't resist.  She opened her eyes to find her room as it should be--neat and tidy.  Her grey and pink plaid bedspread was free of wrinkles; her dresser was arranged precisely as she had did each morning. Everything was in order; for without order there was chaos, and chaos was the enemy of peace.

Her eyes scanned the room, searching for whatever had urged her to open her eyes.  On another whim, she rose nimbly from her position to turn of her music.  The silence was loud, but it was captivating.  She closed her eyes.

Pack a small bag and leave.

She did as she was told, without questioning her instructions or where they came from.  Somehow she was convinced that this was a priority and that her obedience and haste be of the utmost importance.  

As she left her house with a change of clothes in her backpack, she headed west.  She walked on and on, into the setting sun, until night fell.  Thankfully it was summer, and the moon was full.  

Just as she did every night she crossed her legs and searched.  Her breathing slowed, her eyes closed, and her body stilled.  For hours, she did not stir.  She sat perfectly poised, delicately balanced.  The air swirled around her, lifting her hair from her neck.  Little goose-bumps peeked up on her arms and feet, but she felt warm.  Several hours went by; the night was nearly over.

Before dawn broke, she again opened her eyes and started to walk.  She returned to her house, only to find the door ajar and the unfamiliar stench of old blood and rotting flesh filling the house.  Shocked beyond belief, she found her two brothers and three sisters beheaded and lying side by side on the kitchen floor.  Her parents, also dead, hung from the cabinets, hog-tied.  

If she were able to utter a sound at all, she would have screamed,  She couldn't, for horror steals  the breath and scars the soul.

Run.

And she ran.  She ran up the stairs, changed her clothes, and then out of the house.  She ran as far away as she could.  She knew without a doubt that she had been saved.  But why?  She didn't know.  She didn't need to know,  She simply ran.  

Author's Note

i know it ends at a bit of a cliff hanger.... other than that, any thoughts?