Embracing laughter

Patricia is just an ordinary girl, or maybe not. She has things happen around her that are not just odd but downright creepy. The days Patricia knew are about to change as a whole different kind of people meet her. Will she run to follow her heart or stay in the safe embrace of Salem.


4. ~Patricia

As I approached the house I could smell the browning biscuits and hear Peter bawling his eyes out. Mother planted a kiss on my forehead once I walked in. I set the table and put the bouquet in some water realizing how hungry I was. Father walked in and sat down at the table dressed in overalls. His long dark brown hair was tied back.

His plaid shirt was freshly cleaned but the grime refused to leave. In one of his massive boots I could fit both feet. My Father was a big man, but in a muscly way. His huge tan arms wrapped around me in a hug.

I smiled, "Good morning Papa." I mumbled into his shirt, he laughed.

"So far it's too early to say if its good." He said with a smile in his voice.

We all sat down at the table and said grace. Peter had food all over his face and hands as he tried to eat, even managing to get egg in his hair. Laughing I said, "I think someone needs another bath!" Peter's two-year-old face scrunched immediately.

"Not my turn!" Father said jokingly; as if he had ever done women's work in his life.

Mother already looked exhausted so I offered, "I'll do it mother, if you don't mind." She smiled nodding consent. I finished my last bite and went to pick up Peter. He puckered his bottom lip as I hoisted him onto my hip.

I carried him out to a wider section of the brook and stripped him down to his long johns. Taking off my shoes and stockings, I placed Peter in the river and squatted near him, hiking up my skirts. Grabbing the sponge I had brought I soaked it in water. I listened to the forest around me and for the first time there weren't any birds singing. It made everything awfully quite. I scrubbed Peter nervously wanting to leave as soon as possible. I set him on the bank and went to washing the food out of his clothes. 'It was a lot worse when he was a baby and I had to wash out the barf.' I thought to myself.

I had just finished his shirt when the hair on the back of my neck stood on end. I herd Peter say "hallo" in his babyish way. I turned to protect him and found that same wolf from earlier.

His ears were perked and his eyes bore into mine, they contained slightly controlled madness. I picked up Peter and put his damp shirt back on him. Then I started on his pants, the wolf nudged me his eyes darting. I heard a howl in the distance and he jumped.

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