Caroline’s Kite (From Spookfest)

This is one of the stories that I did for last years Spookfest. Watch for it this year! I’ll let you know when it begins. You are in for a real treat. It is a combination of four very different very talented writers and artists. I love writing for Spookfest!

 

Caroline’s Kite

Caroline started her day just like any other. She woke up to the smell of bacon frying. Snuggled all warm in her bed she turned over and tried to go back to sleep. It was no use, once she smelled the bacon, it was all over. She heard her mom walking up the steps and call to her that breakfast was ready. Jumping out of bed and running to the bathroom, Caroline brushed her teeth and got ready to start her day. She decided to wear her red shorts. They were her lucky ones. Her mom told her she was silly, but every time she wore them, something happened and something was not always good.

After her breakfast, Caroline went out to the porch and got her kite. She had left it in the corner by her favorite chair. It was a hanging basket that her grandmother had gotten for her 4th birthday. The kite was from her grandfather. He had made the kite just for her and every year he would put on a new tail and repair the red paper if it needed it. Caroline was ten years old now and both of her grandparents had been gone since she was eight. But still, the kite got a new tail and was repaired.

She was very protective of her kite. No one but her was allowed to touch it. Caroline started taking the kite every where with her. It didn’t matter where. Finally, her mother had enough and told Caroline that the kite would have to go.

Caroline didn’t say anything to her mother, but calmly went out to the field behind the house where she normally flew the kite. Her mother was on the porch watching her. Caroline beckoned her mother out to her and she came. Smiling sweetly at her mother, she handed her the kite string. As soon as she took hold of the string, she knew that something was happening. She looked at Caroline with fright and again she got that strange sweet smile.

“No mother. The kite doesn’t have to go. You do.”

With those words came a flash of light and the kite carried her mother away.

Later that evening, Caroline’s father came home to find her sitting on the porch steps holding her kite. She was smiling so sweetly. He asked about her mother, but Caroline just shook her head. Her father looked everywhere for her mother, but was not found. She was never seen again.

Her father knew somehow what had happened but never spoke of it. He just knew that Caroline was happy. His father (Caroline’s grandfather) had a way of making things he didn’t like disappear.

Mind Trip

Mind Trip

Welcome the darkness into my soul

Awaken in me the twilight of my being

Do not say that I can not belong

I was born to be a creature of the night

My dreams are the stuff that nightmares

Are made of.

I belong to that unconscious affliction

The one that others choose to ignore

That believe are an occurrence of delusions

The horrors of despair and dread

The angst, the revulsion of perdition

This is my plea, my utopia my reverie

My flight, a figment of my imagination

As I lay here in my padded room

Waiting for my mind trip to begin again.

How Do You Know?

How do you know?

How do you know when it is real or just a dream?

When you are running as fast as you can and still you hear it chasing you

so you run faster.

If it’s a dream, then why do you feel that little breeze

across your cheek like you are being softly touched as it passed you?

Why do you feel the fingers of fear running up and down your spine if

it is just a dream?

The sweat is running down your face soaking your shirt, you sit on the curb for just

a minute to collect your thoughts when you see a shadow in the street light.

The shadow moves toward you slowly at first then it picks up speed so you

get up and start running again.

You notice that the sky is getting lighter. It will be dawn soon, but that doesn’t stop

the shadow. It keeps coming.

All of a sudden you recognize your street and soon you see your house. You

run up the steps and unlock your door as quickly as you can. You are safe inside.

When you awaken, you lay there to collect your thoughts. Then you remember

your dream. Sitting up on the side of the bed, you see your running shoes, your

shirt is thrown across the chair.

Getting up, you check your shoes and they are wet and muddy and your shirt

is soaked. You gather them up to throw in the wash and out of the corner

of your eye, you see a shadow move quickly across the room.

Was it real, or just a dream? How do you know?

Dreaming

Day 28

Dreaming

Dreams at night

Are a real delight

When you remember

It’s even better

You recall it to the letter

Most dreams just fade

Like there is a barricade

Like a windowshade

You feel betrayed

When you dream in color

It makes you wonder

It seems so real

It makes you feel

Like you can steal

A glimpse of what’s ideal

Dreams are a delusion

Just an illusion

A rainbow or castle in the air

It could even be a scary nightmare

Dreams are never quite free from doubt

Yet we need to know what they’re about

Fried Green Tomatoes

Day 27

Fried Green Tomatoes

What is it about the taste

Of fried green tomatoes that

takes me back to my

Grandmas kitchen table?

Waiting there patiently for

Grandma to get done because

She won’t stop until the plate

Is piled high.

Finally she turns and puts

The plate on the table,

And we dig in.

That first taste that burns our

Tongues because we can’t wait

Is eye rolling good.

The only sound you hear

Is fork scraping the plate

And lips smacking with the

Sound of appreciation.

The pile has gone down

To only one or two left

On the plate,

And all is good because

Grandma smiles.

And that is all we need

We will remember the

Taste of Fried Green Tomatoes.