L.

Reads: 13  | Likes: 0  | Shelves: 0  | Comments: 0

More Details
Status: Finished  |  Genre: Fantasy  |  House: Booksie Classic
Something got stuck between my shoulders. Something sharp and keen. Something that was breaking my insides and trying to break out. I wanted to scream but there was only deep perpetual silence coming out of my open mouth as if I was sleeping and having a hell of a nightmare.

Submitted: June 29, 2017

A A A | A A A

Submitted: June 29, 2017

A A A

A A A


Something got stuck between my shoulders. Something sharp and keen. Something that was breaking my insides and trying to break out. I wanted to scream but there was only deep perpetual silence coming out of my open mouth as if I was sleeping and having a hell of a nightmare. 

My heart was beating like a drum whether for the reason that it had just been skewered or out of joy that the arrow had merely scratched its soft red side having become its obnoxious but rather intimate neighbour. At that point, it seemed to be impossible to estimate how serious the drama unfolding inside my body was.

I tried to take a breath. Air found its way into my body, somehow reached the sore point between my shoulders, and kicked the blade stuck in the centre with its “foot” as hard as it could.

OK, then. Breathing was not an option yet. I tried to take a step. I got quite a real feeling that some mean little people started to do a circle dance around the steel arrowhead stuck between my shoulders and then, to make matters worse, made a fire around it.

In short, any movement, whether inside or outside, resulted in failure and pain.

I was standing like a scarecrow with my new black woolen coat on. A weird scarecrow which, for some unknown reason, was dressed in a new coat. The thought that the coat with a hole in its back had been ruined beyond repair crossed my mind, dashing through the pain. If only I’d had the strength to raise my arms and stretch them out, this would have put my resemblance to the garden watchman beyond doubt. However, it wasn’t a corn field I was surrounded by. There were people scurrying about. Apparently, they were unaware of the circumstances cramping my movements, which was quite strange. But, at the time, I didn’t want to analyze that.

It seemed to me that I had been standing like that, motionless and breathless, for an hour or two. Or even longer. Alas, I just couldn’t raise my left arm and have a look at my watch. I understood pretty well that I wasn’t nowhere near Houdini and my ability to live without air was limited to about a minute. Forget me! Houdini himself didn’t break hour-long records!

As I had been motionless for quite a while, my body started to go numb. The pain seemed to have gone numb as well. It took me effort to force my refusing-to-function body to do a 180 degree turn. I saw a guy standing right behind my back, or rather, already, before my very eyes. Not very tall. Fair-haired. Well-built. Dressed in jeans and a leather jacket.

“How long have I been standing like that?” My question came out of the blue. Surprisingly, I hadn’t lost my voice. The thing is that it was only loud enough to produce a whisper, not a scream.

“About a few minutes”, he replied.

I looked down and saw that he was holding a bow in his left hand. “Oh, my God!” I thought to myself. “We live in the 21st century and this lunatic walks around the city with a bow and shoots random passersby!” His right hand was free. He must have been holding this damn arrow in it a couple of minutes ago, I assumed.

“Why did you do it like that?” I could hardly utter the words.

“Like what?”

“Without any warning. In the back. You hadn’t even asked what my name was.”

“Sorry. What’s your name?”

“Lu… Well, it’s Lucy, actually. At least, my ID says so. What’s your name?”

“Cupe… Well, actually, I don’t have any ID but if my name is mentioned in any official papers, as you say, it’s normally recorded as Cupid.”

“Nice to meet you, Cupe.”

“Nice to meet you, Lu.”

He put his free right hand upon my left shoulder and carefully turned me around in the same trajectory, making me cover the same 180 degrees. As he was standing behind my back, he leaned forward and whispered into my ear:

“Do you see him? Walk to him. No other way. Do you hear what I say? No. Other. Way.

So, I set off, gradually forgetting about the pain between my shoulders. I was walking to the guy whose eyes met mine on the train fifteen minutes ago. To the guy whose coat had also been ruined beyond repair by a young man called Cupe.


© Copyright 2017 jane michaels. All rights reserved.

Booksie 2017-2018 Short Story Contest

Booksie Popular Content

Other Content by jane michaels

L.

Short Story / Fantasy

Popular Tags