Plink.
A silvery water droplet teased the surface of the ground as it dropped slowly, lingering, until finally plummeting to the soft earth. So absolute water is. It never doubts. Always there when we need it. However, it likes to play with us. You see, we can't live without it. So what happens when it is withdrawn from us? Well, we begin to feel rather parched.
Gracie was sweet as sugar. The kind of person who left you floating above clouds just by talking to her. She had soft blond waves, and cheeks always looking like that had been severly pinched by an eager relative. Of course no one would dare touch Gracie so dominately. Despite her being petite and seemingly vulnerable, no one ever pushed her. It was as if they thought that if they touched her shoulder or kissed her cheek, she might break into thousands of pieces of shimmering glass. Because of this, Gracie grew up to be strong and independent, always looking after herself. Never having to worry about another. Which led to the purchasing of the thing that may eventually threaten her life. The bungalow.
It was a heated autumn morning. One of those days where you feel lucky to have a last taste of Sun's warmth before she hides for brisk winter. The Sun shone on freshly damp leaves, making them brighten even more with vast golden and ruby tones. Sweat settled upon Gracie's brow, as her blistered hands scraped together the last of the broken leaves. Huffing, she dropped the splintering rake on the yellowing grass, and fell on her back. Gracie wondered if she had made the right choice on taking a chance on a worn down old bungalow.
She sighed, collapsing with defeat. "Well, that's one item off my bucket list." She rose, after recovering her wits, and brushed off her worn, faded jeans. "If this dry spell continues much longer, I may eventually wilt like my poor roses." She gazed sadly at her now puny exception for thriving flowers. They lay upon the soil as if it were a barren wasteland. She kneeled once again, and began to pick away the remains of her tortured plants. A single thorn from one of roses stabbed her finger in hidden vengenance. A single drop of rust-smelling blood slithered down her wrist. Her face grew pale, for even the smallest sight of it made her stomach squirm.
"Ha! At least that may satisfy us for the moment, ungrateful one. We will soon have our malice fulfilled." Gracie jumped off the ground. So fast that she fell onto her back and let out a piercing cry of pain as another one of the sharp prongs buried its way into her back. "Yes. Yes, the beast is down! Get her, take her soul! Let her become one of us." She screamed. The menacing voices enveloped all around her. Gracie finally dared to look down at the ground, discovering that she wish she hadn't.
The dried rosebuds had turned into what she thought to be small gremlin like figures. They had small bony bodies, no fatter than a featherless bird. They had no lips, only shadow filled holes wailing at her. Their eyes flickered and lit up with a purple spark. However, they could not move far for they were still attached unwillingly to the soil. She used this to her advantage groping the ground, in an desperate effort to escape. Breathing heavily, on she ran still hearing their mocking laughter. She nearly ran through her screen door, shaking with confusion and fear. Slamming down on the cool tile floor, Gracie began to weep. When she finally composed herself, looking out the window she discovered to sun going down. Her light was leaving her. And then, she thought, if they were courageous enough to attack her during the day, they should be intelligent enough to succumb her in the deepening twilight. Her hands trembled and she lit a fire, trying to leave the bitter chill forming in her mind.
Gracie nestled into the sofa, begin to tend to her wounds. Deep welts covered her palms and wrists all the way up to her arms. Thorns had cut deep leaving scars. Not only on her bare skin, but also in her subconcious. How could she trust God to protect her, when He let little demons frighten her badly enough that she would resort to hiding from her own backyard. Gracie quickly pushed that thought out of her already damaged mind, and begin to think logically again. She went over the possibilties and began to make a list of theories in her head.
Could they have really been demons? They certainly seemed noxious enough committing physical violence on her. She ran her fingers through her matted tangles, feeling like a hot shower would do her good. Upstairs she went to her sea foam colored bathroom. Relaxtion came over her when she let go of all strain while lathering with lilac scented shampoo. "HeeHee. Even monsters need to come clean at some point we suppose? Well it's pointless. We'll make her dirty again..."
Gracie stood stark still. The water in her shower grew Antarctica cold, but she dare not whimper or move. They were scaring her, and she could do nothing about it. "Want do you WANT?! I'll give you anything! Please, I need to feel safe. This is my home for God's sake! Leave me at peace." They giggled like naughty school boys. Then the laughter grew deeper and darker. Sixteen pairs of glowing purple eyes glittered at her from beyond the shower curtain. They trembled and seem to shake to whole room with their hideous squealing of giggles. They suddenly stacked up on top of one another again and again forming a pyramid. They then morphed into a devil like shape, becoming one, still laughing in evil mockery. It was unimagingable and all to real for Gracie's reality.
"Soo Graacie.....ddo youuu stilll feell inn controlll???"
All these emotions smothered her. These beings wanted her to feel all these things. To make her feel scattered and lost. Like she continued calling for help from down a dank smelling well, and no one would answer. Despite there being a crowd of people just in hearing range. Hate, Angst, Fear, Anxiety. And an overwhelming sense to really want to be in control. Then she knew what she must do. Gracie felt refueled, juicy, and fortified.
"Yes, as a matter of fact. I do. Now as I asked you nicely before. Get out of my house." Tearing back the curtain she grabbed the creature by the neck. Being the practical woman she was, Gracie grabbed her plush robe before entering the violent storm outdoors. The creature resisted and spat at her, but somehow she managed to hold it still. Power surrounded her, intertwining with her nerves, giving her unlimited strength and courage. The horrible thing shrieked and wailed, changing shapes as she held it in a tight, choking grasp. It gurgled and moaned, but it's enormous size began to shrink into something insignificiant.
Gracie was just about to throw it out into the woods, when her clamp on the thing turned into many painful pricks. She pulled her hand back, reacting as though she has been stung by a wasp. Realizing her mistake, she looked hopelessly on the ground for the creature but found nothing. Sighing, she briskly jogged back into the warm confounds of, once again, her home.
The next morning, she felt revived and untouched, strangely, by the events of the previous night. Gracie strolled downstairs and walked lightly into her kitchen searching for some bread for toast. Finally discovering the bread hidden behind the toaster, she found something else she did not expect. However, Gracie felt nothing. Only independent and in control. As she thought it right to be. She admired the object, but turned away form it to browse her television.
A single red rose, marvelous with beauty.
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