Three Graves and the Party.



It might be easy for a child to miss the staccato note of a shovel blade assaulting the rocky earth outside her trailer during a severe thunderstorm. Easy, but not impossible. The familiar metallic sound didn’t fit, came between the heavy drops of rain and crashing thunder. It woke her up. Truly, it wasn’t just the sound, there was a feeling too. Something wasn’t right, hadn’t been for a while now. Even a seven year old could tell when a family was coming undone.

Chloe crawled out of bed and slipped to the window, pushed the curtains aside just enough to peek into the night through the dirty rain-streaked glass. There would be nothing out there. There never was when she felt the monsters watching , heard them scratching on the thin walls while Mama, Daddy & Lucas slept.

Not this time.

The lightening revealed a figure hunched in a hole maybe knee deep, stabbing the ground ferociously. Kerchunk, kerchunk, ching!

Chloe gasped and slid to the floor, shaking, then stood and peeked again. Still there. Not a dream.


The door to her parent’s room was open. Her searching hands found the bed empty and sticky wet. The light switch on the wall didn’t work. There was a funny smell in the air.


As in nightmare, her 12 year old brother’s bed would be empty too. It was.

Chloe ran to the gaping backdoor, slid and fell in the puddle of rain that had blown inside, scrambled to her feet and dashed across the backyard.

“Mama!! Daddy! Lucas!! Where are you?”

The figure stopped shoveling. Straightened up.

“Go back to bed!”

Chloe stopped. Took a step. Then another.

Rivers of rain eroded two mounds of fresh dirt and poured into the hole the figure stood in.

“Mama? What are you doing?”


~ by loretta8 on November 2, 2011.

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