Day 82 Ruminating And Writing

Survive

I have been struggling to survive. My thoughts, my mind, seem to torment me. There is no hour in the day when they aren’t there. They keep whispering my name. They want me to do things. I have no escape. No drug. No alcohol. Nothing works. I’m afraid all the time. One day, they will make me do something I regret. I can already feel their control over me. I have resisted them so far. But I can feel myself slipping.

Hedgehog

He peered under the bush. There it was again. It had been there yesterday, and when he had gotten home, he had read all about hedgehogs. The little fellow was under the leaves, waiting for its mother. There was no sign. Maybe she had already weaned it. He had read about weaning and had asked that night about his mother’s plans for weaning and when she would do it to him. His mother had laughed, hopefully not in a long time. He hadn’t understood what she meant. So now he waited for her to wean him and leave him in the bush as the hedgehog’s mother had.

He reached for the thing, and it curled into a ball. He had read how to handle hedgehogs. He took it gently in his hands and moved it into his kindergarten class. At first, he had thought to show it to them, but he had decided that the hedgehog was only for him. So he put it inside his backpack, where he had created a nursery at home. He made sure there were bugs to eat. He had collected them last night. When he got home, he would create a living area for it, and they could be best friends.

Seclusion

The rugged mountain tops rose behind the cabin. She was fastening everything shut and bringing in enough logs before the storm was about to rise. She had made sure all the animals were locked in and everything would hold together. The storms were hard and tenacious up here on the mountains.

The cabin was warm, and her cat was snuggled up by the fireplace. It was only her and the animals here. She had been surviving here alone so long that she didn’t anymore remember what it was to have human company. The cat got the worst part of her talking when it graced her being awake. Now, she let it sleep as she prepared her dinner.

This hadn’t been her choice. This was what she had to do to survive. In the early days, when she was sure she was gradually going insane being cooped up here alone, she had thought it was better to go back and let them do their worst at her. But she had persisted and had started to enjoy the lonely days, the tasks, and the mountain view. This was better than her life had been in the city.

She snuggled on the sofa to wait for the storm. What she missed most were the books. She had only a handful. The classics. But she had read them so many times that she knew every line by heart.

She must have dozed off as the storm already raged over her. Sometimes she stood at the porch, watching the rain, and the lightning hit the mountain walls, but today, she wanted to be inside, where it was warm. It had been a chilly day, and the summer breeze was only arriving with the storm.

The cat had come down from the fireplace. It was staring at the door like something was going to arrive. She felt it too. And there it was, a quiet knock on the door. The knock she had feared all these years.

The Prompts are from the book A Year of Creative Writing Prompts.

Snuggling with a cat helps. It’s a remedy for everything. The only thing was that it was hard to get up and show up to write. But I got to my keyboard, escaping the cute, soft cat that makes me sleepy merely by its presence. It followed me and helped me to write these prompts. Now it’s demanding attention, and I will have to surrender.

Thank you for reading! Have a lovely day ❤