Un-Stuck

The scrubbing was running her fingers raw, but there was more blood under her fingernails than she initially thought.

It was the last one she had taken in a long list of antidotes used to try and escape a realm so unbearably difficult to handle.

The olive oil was the first to spill when grandfather began to change.

An echo of wind glided through the house ruffling the curtains and pushing little sleeping heads further under their covers. It was typical for the floor boards to creek in a house that old. It was typical for it to groan, shake with the wind and shrink with the cold. Someone was calling her name. Hollow whispers caressed her ear, luring her to get out of bed, follow them down the stairs, past the kitchen, along the back wall to the cellar door. To please let them out because it’s been so long and they’re so restless and hungry and want to play, just play. A great gust of wind pushed against the brick and a shriek of pain came from beneath the stairs. The floors protested and groaned under the strain and she snuggled deeper into the covers grabbing Louise, her stuffed bunny rabbit, close. Her brother’s breathing was deep; he could sleep through anything. He never heard the voices. They didn’t call out to him like they did her. It made him think she was crazy. All the chocolate sh...

My Dearest Alicia, I miss you. More than the words in these letters can ever say. It has been months since I've had the chance to bed down and write to you and know that I am sorry for that, my love. I find myself drifting to thoughts of you every passing moment and I take solace in knowing you are safe at home over the pond with our little girl. How is our little song bird? Is she well? Growing up and doing well in school? Does she miss me as much as I miss her cherubic face? I do hope she does. You both are always missed and thought of fondly while I do my utmost to navigate these horrible times. Do give her all my love and tell her that her father will be home soon to have that tea party with Mr. Teddy and the Bunns. Tell our little girl I love her and when she feels scared, to look at her dancing nightlight lamp and remember that we will always protect her from everything that would ever do her harm. The war is moving Alicia. We have crossed into Germany, or Austria, or so...

The road was slick with rainwater, too much to get soaked up by the asphalt so it pooled on the surface, hiding the holes and blemishes littering the streets. The darkness had a anxious feeling to it, like the air was charged with an electric current, simmering between oxygen and water molecules, waiting to join together and strike. He pushed his foot down further against the gas pedal and the car groaned from under him as it shuddered to move faster. He wasn’t going nearly fast enough if this was going to work. The wipers were on the highest setting, obstructing his view, not that there was much to see. Both headlights had been burned out for months but no one ever stopped him. No one really cared. Trees started flying past the windows and low hanging branches sometimes whipped around the car, scratching the brown paint off and leaving marks all down the sides. The noise was louder than the persistent groaning of the car. He grunted and shifted closer to the wheel as if it were going ...

She ran past countless pine trees that snapped back in her face and poke holes all over her body. There was sweat dripping down from her forehead, leaking into her eyes and blurring her vision. All she had to do was keep running. She should hear heavy footsteps behind her, weaving in and out of the uneven rows of trees, jumping occasionally over lightening struck branches. He was gaining on her. The soft wood from her basket was shredding into her arm, wedging shards beneath her skin. Deciding to ditch it, hoping that she could catch him by surprise, she threw it behind her only to hear it shatter into pieces as it collided with a tree. So much for lunch. Faint growls emerged from the right of her and she could almost feel his breath on her cheek. She pushed further. Her lungs began to burn just as she saw her safe point, Grandma's house. Come on, almost there. Eyes burning, she ran faster than ever, past the white wooden fence her grandfather made before he died, up th...

She looked at him as if she saw a monster. His face morphed into something ghastly with tendrils of mucus flying off of his sharp teeth and black haunting eyes threatening to suck out her soul through her irises. Her body failed any method of protective precautions and completely shut down instead of fleeing like her brain shouted to do. A growl emitted from the back of his throat, sending a wave of nausea from the pit of her stomach up her esophagus. She was backed into a corner, the moist stone wall pressed right up against her back. She willed her body to melt into the stone, pushing herself so close to it the sharp ridges broke the thin skin of her shoulders. He forced his body almost against hers, threatening to engulf her, eliminating any sight lines around his burly frame. Where was there to go? A frenzied smile played with the edge of his mouth, a laugh so baritone pulsed through her rib cage, shaking each strand of veins attached to her heart. “Don’t fuss, my sweet.” He hissed...

"You’re doing it again,” she complained. Her lips were turned down into a frown. Over the past few months the lines around her mouth started to crease into the familiar expression. She would spend the rest of the night in front of the mirror pulling and prodding the tender area as if that could perform a miracle facelift. He stirred his cup, spoon clinking loudly against the ceramic mug, one more time for good measure. Maybe her eye would twitch again and he would relish in the personal victory. The café they decided to stop in was just off of the highway outside of Nashville. It was small with yellow linoleum floors, dark wooden tables, and smelled of coffee and butter. There was a consistent flow of people looking for a quick pick me up on their journey to wherever. It wasn’t her idea to pull off; she wanted to keep going. She thought it was because the rain was coming down in sheets, submerging the roads in two feet of water, but it was the silence in the car that was becoming ...

She was cold. She never got used to dressing for the weather because she never had to when he was around. There was always an extra sweater for her just in case. Eventually she didn't even need to ask. But everything was different now. She bit down on her lip and felt the November wind push through her skirt. She would have to get used to checking the weather before leaving the house. It would take time, but they said she'd learn. The sun was barely showing over the horizon and she wished that she wasn’t so late. She promised him she would be on time for once. The sun would still be out and they would watch it set together with a fleece blanket as a barrier from the frosted ground and a cup of cocoa split between them. But the blanket wasn’t where she swore she saw it and the cupboard was fresh out of cocoa. It was all wrong. The iron gate whined as she pushed through with little effort. The first time she visited, it took her 45 minutes to even touch it but in following months...