Scribblings

Just a collection of various stories I began with no intention to finish, or answers to writing prompts. Enjoy! Please visit my author page on FB! facebook.com/author.anrisaryn Also note, some of these may be removed later if I feel the urge to expand on them!

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38. Jakk and Jill

 

          Something crackles. I turn and see Jakk approaching me warily.
          "Are you alright?" he says. 
          I nod simply, somewhat glad he has found me. In my anger, I had rushed out of the house, face red with anger, my mother's brow furrowed with concern.
          "You can't do this!" I had bellowed.
          "We have no choice," the man had replied.
          "You can't take my mother away!"
          I look up at Jakk as he sits next to me, rubbing a bruise I had caused from pushing him out of the way. I don't know how he got it but I imagine he hit the door post. It seems like something that he would have happen to him. He's such a clumsy oaf.
          The scene plays again before me as I look on toward the lake. The man had come in the morning, not quite afternoon, when the sun was just above the tall oak in the center square. When it was completely over, the man with the goat would come by and eat his lunch while he sold cheese and milk from the animal he called Mildred. The man explained something terrible had happened and my mother was needed. When I asked if she would return, he answered a succinct "no."
          Mother had always said this day would come. She would recite the same line over and over about how the man in gray would come return her to her true duty. I had always hoped it wouldn't. Jakk, the older brother he was, did all he could, tyring to comfort me, but I was always closers to Mom than I should have been.
          I look over at Jakk who had been silent this whole time. His dark facial hair had seemed to sprout overnight, but he was nearly 17 now - it was expected. He must have felt my gaze because he looks over and blinks questioninly.
          "You ok, Jilly?" he repeats.
          Oh the joke my parents must have had naming their first two children after a nursery rhyme.
          "I guess," I reply, leaning against him, something I had grown used to over the years. He gives me a quick hug and then pushes me back up, his hands on my shoulders so I am forced to look at him.
          "Jilly, it will be ok," he says. "Just because those men have come doesn't mean we'll never see her again. Mom will come back."
          I look at him with confusion, then frown and turn away.
          "They can't..."
          "Yes they can, and besides, if you love her that much, what the heck are you doing here sulking?"
          As if that snaps me back to reality, and it does, I stand up suddenly and take off running towards the house, leaving Jakk to shout at me from the fallen tree we had sat on. How can I have been so stupid?
          The house was empty. I let out a small squeak of pain and anxiety. I was too late.
          "Mom!" I near scream. "Mom!"
          "She's gone, Jill," I hear Jakk say from behind me. "I tried to tell you."
          Tears spring up in the eyes and I find it hard to see. I turn towards Jakk as he approaches the house, now empty of life. The spark my mother made in it is gone. It's just an empty shell now.
          Jakk grasps me tightly in a hug and the tears flow freely, leaving a watery stain on his shirt. In this weather that wouldn't be good. The air is growing colder still even if the early spring melt is upon us.
    "It's okay, Jilly," he assures me. "Everything is going to be fine."

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