Sneak Peak: TWINE from (13 Wicked Tales Of Witches Book)
TWINE
My sister always had an obsession with string. She liked to play with it. Run around with it. Roll it between her fingers, tie bows around arbitrary things.
Braid it into her hair.
I never really thought it was abnormal.
Until some of the things she started tying up and wrapping bows around began to do strange things.
Like her dead gerbil, Penny.
There are some that say we are bound to this world by some unseen thing, like our mortal coils.
coil.
Sounds a lot like string, huh?
If you don’t know what I’m talking about, just think about how the three Fates from the Hercules movie could cut your string and it would kill you. All they did was break the twine binding you to the earth.
To the living.
Penny came back to life.
We were sad when she died. We loved her, she was part of the family, but she was old and her time with us had come and gone. The only person her passing surprised was Lara, my baby sister. When Penny was gone and it was time to bury her, Lara had marks all over her arms and legs from tying that damned string all over her body.
She said she was trying to keep the memories in; so she wouldn’t forget about Penny.
I knelt down and told her, “Penny will always be with us,” I put my hand on her tiny little chest and patted her unicorn shirt right over her heart. “Right here.” I said.
I made sure to look her in the eye. So she knew.
She needed to know that her big brother would never ever lie to her.
Only the truth for my baby sister.
She counted on me to tell her things ‘adults’ wouldn’t. She depended on me to separate the chaff from the wheat when it came to bullshit.
After the divorce, everybody lied to us.
“Everything is going to be okay.” They all said, but it wasn’t. We had to stay in a shelter for a long time because my mom was pretty sure he was going to try and kill her for leaving.
He never did.
We hid at a shelter and lost our house for nothing.
Nobody’s seen that ass hat for months.
I went out of my way to find the truth and let Lara know what was really happening to our family. And she’s stronger for it now. So am I. It’s easier to deal with what might be coming if you know enough to prepare.
I digress.
Penny came back to life because Lara wrapped her up in twine before we put her in the shoe box.
It was just me and my sister. Mom was at work. I should have told the kid not to be petting and playing with that dead gerbil, but I figured she could wash her hands when she got done; but dealing with her pet’s death, saying goodbye the way she wanted to, was priceless. I let Lara do what she needed to do to be alright with the death of her friend.
We laid some tissue paper down in the shoe box and put the gerbil in, twine and all. Three days later, that thing was back in its cage, rotting. It chewed through the box, dug its way backup out of the ground and hobbled back up to our apartment. Back to the feet of its creator.
My sister.
The resurrector.
The thing wouldn’t touch its food or water and got very excited whenever anybody walked into Lara’s room.
A real live zombie gerbil.
I told my buddy Mark about Penny. He said maybe she was just sick, but I know better. That rodent had been cold and stiff when I went to feed her that morning nearly two weeks ago. Penny had died. Penny was dead now, but somehow, she was still moving around. She stunk and she was rotting. A walking, squeaking corpse.
Lara brought her back with that string of hers.
I don’t know how it works.
I found a dead bird this morning. Brought it to Lara. I asked her to do it again.
She gave me a sly little smile that unnerved me. (I’ve never been unnerved by my sister. She may be eleven years younger than me, but she’s like my best friend. We understand each other. Maybe that just means I’m simple, but I don’t think it does.) She took the bird from the paper bag I’d dropped it in on the way home from school and peered inside.
“What happened to it?” she asked me.
I just shrugged. “Found it walking home from school. Can you bring it back? Like Penny?”
She nodded. “Maybe.” Lara was silent for a long time, but she didn’t move. Just stood there thinking, looking into the bag. “Whatcha gonna give me for it?”
“Give?”
“Yeah silly, you gotta trade somthin’."
Her sweet little voice was angelic, but the things she was saying made my spine want to shrivel up into a knot. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up, even through a fresh coat of sweat after the two mile walk from my high school to our apartment on the west side of town.
I knelt down so that we were on the same level.
“What did you trade for Penny?” I prayed to God she was going to say her favorite doll, or a few cookies. Mr. Morcott’s dog died not to long ago. I didn’t want to believe that my sister was behind it.
Could she take a life for her own ends?
Did she not know better or did she just not care?
Was I jumping to conclusions?
“I’m not supposed to say. You have to keep it a secret or he’ll take it back. But I didn’t have to trade for Penny, I already traded. He owes me.”
“Who will take it back? Who owes you, Lara?”
“The Man.”
“What kind of man? Where do you see him?”
“The Dark Man.” She answered suddenly turning shy. Coy. As if I were asking her about the boy down the street. I thought six was a little young to be looking at boys, but what do I know?
“Where do you see him?” I repeated the question when Lara tried to evade it.
“Everywhere.” She whispered. “He follows me to school sometimes. Sits behind me on the bus.”
“Then he’s a kid, like you?”
“No, he’s a man.” She held a hand up high above her head to show me he was tall.
“But he rides the school bus?"
“I see him lots of places.” She told me. “At school. In the park. Here.”
I looked around the room behind me and I didn’t see anything.
