No Title

[Haunted]

I was riding along through the deep country backwoods of my town. Hidden houses peeked through splintered trees giving an almost movie reel effect, but it was all too fast. The road required my attention more than the landscape.

I wondered why the people that lived in these shanty houses cluttered their yards with so much unusable unsentimental garbage. Broken swingsets told of children long gone and the hope of grandchildren. Cars that would never more see the expanse of concrete stood in the brown front yard like grave monuments, hollow and mournful.

I fumbled with the cd player feeling for "seek." My eyes were trying to focus on the road ahead of me, but caught something to the right. I sat up an slowed. An old delapidated house, brown with years of neglect crumbled in my sight. What was most interesting was a young boy. He stood in the yard, staring blankly at the road dressed in nothing but dirty underpants.

Why was a child child standing so close to the road? What parent would allow such a small boy, wearing nothing but nickers, to stand in the yard while cars and trucks fly past? And what had the child so dumbfounded that he could not tear his eyes away from the road?

Perhaps he had woken up, four days ago, to a silent house. He walked around for an hour waiting for his mom to rise and make breakfast. He had to go to school, after all. He sat on the floor and turned on the television to his favorite program. He only realized the time when he heard the bus drive by leaving him home.

He walked to his mother's bedroom and went inside. He saw her lying there, beneath the covers, still sleeping. The boy stood by the bed hoping that she would wake up, as she sometimes did, only if he looked at her hard enough. It didn't work.

He climbed into bed hoping to shake her wake. His knee became soaked in something wet. Surely mommy's didn't wet the bed did they? The little boy pulled the covers back from his mother. His bow shaped mouth dropped in a silent scream.

Her shirt was a mess covered in thick bood and ripped open exposing her torso. Emerging from her tummy was a deep purple tube, like something the things she brought home from the grocerey store. This thing, however, was coming from his mommy's tummy.

The little boy, without really thinking, pushed the organ back into the gash in his mother's body. He wiped his hands on his shirt.

As the day drew on, the little boy did not enter his mother's room. He had taken the bloody clothing off and put it in the washer. Someone would come and help him wash clothes, he was shure of it. Someone would help him make dinner. Someone had to.



Okay, I'm not finished with this. I need to go and do some gardening. Please don't post after this until I'm finished. Even if it sucks ^_^