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 Posted: Mon Nov 27, 2006 9:27 pm
Tada-tap. Tada-tap. Lizz could hear the hail bouncing off of her window. The wind had been howling all day, but now the storm was just picking up. Thunder raged above, plundering into things, shaking fists at God and threatening to start a fight. The commotion seemed to continue to roll on forever.
Inside, it was a different story. Steam rose high above Lizz as she cooked. It had been a long day of work, and Lizz decided that she needed a good dinner (or dessert) to help wind herself down. Tonight she was attempting stir fry.
“Are these onions cooked enough?” she mumbled as she poked at a crusty brown onion sliver with a fork. Onion rings don’t go in stir fry, right?
“Well at least I hate onions.” She muttered as she picked them out one at a time, before adding some broccoli to fill its spot.
BZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZT! The timer rang, indicating her oven was preheated.
“Ohh, cake!” She laughed, placing the unbaked angel cake into the oven. She couldn’t help being excited; dessert was the best part of dinner. And as it turns out, dessert was the only part of dinner she ever really got right. And if she messed up a meal she could always run through a drive through and buy herself (what she considered) a quality dinner.
Tada-tap. Tada-tap. Tada-tap. Finally her stir-fry extravaganza was ready.
All she needed was the salt and dinner was served. And for once, it was actually edible! The night was perfect in every way. So why did she feel like something wasn’t right?
Her thoughts drifted back to that Halloween night. How could she forget almost being dragged into the earth by a zombie? Unconsciously, she lifted up her pant leg to reveal fingerprints burnt into her leg. It was a constant reminder. For the first few nights afterwards, she jumped at everything, ready to throw whatever she could reach in her defense. But this strategy ended up being more embarrassing than anything.
And how could she forget about the angel child in the field? What exactly had happen after the zombie arm had latched onto her? Her memories of that night were blurred; leaving her with nothing but waking up in the field, dawn creeping over the horizon.
Lizz could even consider it being just a delusion, her minds playing tricks on her. She could almost believe that excuse, if she hadn’t woken up with a single snowy white feather in her hand.
Tada-tap-tap-tap. Tap-tap-tadaa-tap. And what if it had been real? Where would it be now? Lizz thought as she took huge bites of her creation.
BIZZZZZZZZZZZZZT. The timer buzzed again, demanding that her cake to be removed from the oven. Lizz jumped up in excitement. It was cake time~! She stood and as she walked over to her oven she caught a glimpse of a pair of icy blue eyes watching her from the window.
Lizz screeched and reached for the nearest object. She ended up with a spatula. Calm down Lizz, there is a wall and a window between the two of you. It was obvious that the eyes were real, and not a trick of light or stress. But it didn’t matter, for if it came down to it, Lizz would beat the demon off with her plastic weapon of choice.
It was then Lizz noticed that she had seen those sad eyes before… but where? They didn’t belong to the boy down the street, or to her gym teacher. Nor did they belong to any stray animal on the street. They were too strange to belong to a cat. Then where did they become so familiar?
It would be so easy to ignore them, Lizz thought, and to just shut the curtains and go on and enjoy her cake. But what about the wind and hail? As selfish as Lizz could get, she couldn’t bear to leave it outside without finding out what it was first. Still gripping her weapon, she opened the window.
The rain rushed in as Lizz stuck her head out.
“Come on now.” she said, as she reached out her hand. “Don’t tell me you want to stay out here.” The icy blue eyes seemed to watch her warily but they still walked closer. In the light, Lizz could tell that the eyes in fact belonged to the dying angel she found a month ago.
“And where have you been all this time?” she asked as she heaved the herald inside. But Lizz didn’t even have to ask.
The child’s once white hair was dyed brown by dried mud. Dead leaves and twigs poked out from its tangled mess. It was clear the the little girl had survived the outdoors all along.
“And what now what shall we do with you…?” Lizz muttered to herself. She knew that if she fed the girl and cleaned her up, she would never leave. The child glared up at Lizz threateningly, as if to say “Don’t you dare get rid of me.”
It was then Lizz saw the smoke seeping out of the oven.
“OHMYGOD MY CAKE!”
~~
As the teen-lady ran to save her cake, Anya had other plans than waiting around. She had been cold and hungry far too long to wait anymore. It was time to find something warm and something sickeningly sweet. But where to start? Her nose picked up a faint smell of icing just off past the kitchen’s doorway. Anya followed her nose like a bloodhound detective, leaving a track of muddy footprints in her wake.
The kitchen led into a wide-open room. In the middle was a wide TV screen flicking black and white horror movies, which was paired with a crisp white loveseat. On the left, under a canopy was a couch next to coffee table that carried the iced sugar cookies.
Ahah!
Anya waddled over and without restraining herself; she began to shovel the cookies down.
It wasn’t long until the lady followed her muddy tracks into the room.
“Hey! Those are my cookies!”
Anya, sensing she was in danger grabbed hold of the cookie plate and made a run for it. Maybe she could find a safe hideaway until the raging lunatic of a human went to sleep. Unfortunately she misjudged how fast the teen was and in seconds she was on top of Anya.
“What are you anyways?” the girl asked as she wrested the cookies off of Anya.
“Ima Anya and you are batty Mumma! Now getta off me!”
“And I’m never going to be able to get rid of you, am I?”
“Not until you fork up those cookies, Mumma bat!”
~~~
It took a lot of coaxing and bribing (manly ice cream sundaes) to get the Anya child to get cleaned up and calmed down. Midnight was just passing when the child finally fell asleep next to Lizz on the loveseat. The whirlwind of a day was starting to take its toll on the teen as well. And as she drifted off to sleep, she wondered if she was ready to become a “Mumma Bat” just yet.
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Posted: Mon Jan 22, 2007 8:22 pm
“Ahhhhhhhh, Mummaa Baat!”
Tiny footsteps rang out throughout the house. Lizz peaked up from her book only to see a naked herald running by, leaving wet footprints in her wake.
Sighing, she put down her book and set her glasses aside. It had been a busy and tiring day and all she wanted was some down time. There was a social studies project due, and an English paper that needed revising. French was requiring that Lizz make a French dinner while chemistry was bombing her with tests. And with a whirlwind of a child such as Anya, she felt as if it was almost impossible for time to relax.
“Why aren’t you in the tub?!” Lizz barked after her, as she chased the tiny girl into the kitchen.
“Anya, you had two pieces of cake already, don’t think you are getting another!”
However, as soon as she walked in, she notice Anya wasn’t even near the fridge. Instead she was into the silverware drawer, pulling out a long wooden spoon and… was using it as a back-scratcher! And with her back and naked bum facing her, Lizz could see what she was scratching at. Anya was growing a new set of wings!
“Ah! Anya don’t do that, You’ll make it worse!”
She hurried over to the child, and took the spoon from her hand. White whisps of new feathers stuck to the spoon. Lizz chucked it into the sink, deciding to worry about it later. Anya looked back at her Mumma bat.
“But Mamma Bat, it iiiiitches.” Anya whined, pouting her lips discontentedly. Her eyes desperately searched for the next nearest item she could use. The blender, although large and heavy, would work. Anything would work as long as it scratched. Anya scrambled onto the
kitchen counter.
“Hey now~! Let me just get a look at them”
She wrestled Anya down from the counter. Bending down to investigate, Lizz could see that Anya’s back was red from the scratching. Next to the growing wings little blisters were popping up. But despite the damage it was causing to Anya’s shoulder blades, she could see that the wings were developing perfectly. The small stubs were even growing in full feathers. But to her surprise, they were coming in dirt streaked. New wings, and they were already dirty.
“Are you sure you washed yourself?” Lizz teased, “We might just have to stick you in the tub for another half an hour.”
“Mumma, I’ma going to bite your fingers off if you don’t stop!”
Anya glared up at her mom, tears running down the sides of her face.
“Alright, alright…” she whispered back, regretting teasing her
daughter while she was obviously in pain.
“How about while I whip up some of my famous anti-itch cream for your back, you can have an ice cream sundae?”
“With extra gooey-gooey’s on top?” she sniffled.
“So many, that you’ll be buried in them”
Anya gasped, her miry eyes lighting up. Being buried in sweet red and lemony green gooey-gooey's would be the better than pretending to be Tartzyman!
~~~
A rich, honey-like smell floated around the room. Anya’s back was caked in an oatmeal mixture and every which way she moved, dried chunks would crumble off onto the floor. Mumma-Bat had placed two oven mitts on her growing wings to protect them from her scratching at them. What was even worse, that she wasn't buried in gooey-gooey's. In fact, they were all out! But, Mumma-bat was trying her hardest, and she could see that. And, at least she could run around without her shirt on for a few nights.
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