Working on my NaNo word count this morning, but wanted to get this post up because I am super excited about it. I wrote this piece yesterday before reposting part one of it. I wrote it in about 10 minutes. Yes, when the inspiration strikes, you don’t question it – you just do it. You get those words out and on to the page and watch it all form into something you feel is wonderful.
I hope those of you who have taken a liking to part one of this story enjoy this second part.
Please read and feel free to comment! I included the link to the original post just for those who haven’t read part one.
https://niume.com/pages/post/?postID=141636 (original One of Three post)
Two of Three
It had been a few years since he killed the puppy. It was fascinating to him. Over the weeks since he had buried it, he had gone back, dug it up with his mother’s good spoon, and examined the remains. Repeatedly. Bugs started eating the animal. Then the fur and skin started falling off. It was really stinky and gross to handle.
Again, that had been a few years ago. He had killed more animals since. Lately, it just wasn’t as fun or as fascinating as it had been.
In that time, he had developed night terrors. He started wetting the bed. His ‘friends’ made fun of him. Really, they weren’t his friends. He hated them all, but their mums made them all play together. He always snuck off to do his own thing anyway.
This week was vacation week. The holidays. Autumn had things crisp and cool. It also had the little lizards and frogs starting to seek shelter from the cold.
Sometimes though, during the day, you could catch them sunning themselves on the smooth rocks to keep their body heat up. It was the prime time to catch them up. He killed some of them, of course. Digging around in their insides. He started saving some, too, however. They had a neat feel to them. Slick and smooth. They looked slimy, but they really weren’t.
This evening there was to be a bonfire and his spirits were flying high. He loved playing with fire. He’d set a few small ones. Nothing major, except for a small old tree house in the woods. It was exciting, but it seemed to be lacking something.
So now all his family were milling around this lovely big bonfire. They were all drinking their grown up drinks, hardly paying attention to anything but one another and their stupid conversations.
His little sister was roasting marshmallows in the fire on a long stick mum had found for her.
He watched intently. He watched curiously.
What would happen if he held her hand in the fire? Would the skin melt off like dripping wax? Or would it get all crunchy like the marshmallows when you leave them in too long and they catch fire a little bit?
He really wanted to know.
But…this was his little sister. He’d get the spanking of a lifetime if he did something bad.
A smiled settled on his cherubic face. Pulling from his flannel jacket pocket, he produced a small jar. It had a few lizards and frogs in it.
He wanted to try different things.
He had to be careful though. He couldn’t let anyone see.
Moving to the other side of the bonfire, where no one was sitting, he pulled a frog from the jar and tossed it in the edge of the fire. It immediately caught fire and shriveled all up, turning black. It then just looked like a weird rock.
He pulled a lizard out next. He tried to put it on a smooth stone at the fires edge, but the fire was too hot. It was weird. The tail and legs of the little lizard caught fire first, and it squiggled and squirmed around before the rest of it was consumed in the flames.
He smiled, the light of the fire glimmering in his eyes.
He inched a little closer to the fire and used a stick to scoot the little jar of remaining frogs and lizards onto the flat stone at the edge he had aimed for with the lizard.
The little reptiles went into a frenzy, then one by one… they popped! It was beautifully disgusting!
He laughed to himself, thoroughly entertained.
It was a short-lived bit of fun though, when his mum came looking for him. It was time to go in. He didn’t want to. He wanted to play with the fire more. He wanted to put more things in. He didn’t want to go to bed, either. However, maybe he wouldn’t have any accidents tonight with all the lovely images in his head of the reptiles and the fire dancing behind his eyes.
Tomorrow he would go back and retrieve the jar and its contents for his inspection. He would see what the pretty fire would do to other things, too, after stealing the big box of long matches off the picnic table.