The Spindle Girl

This night swooped upon the spindle girl like an owl dashing upon a scurrying rat. From her bed on the second floor, she heard her parents' muffled voices grow hotter. She could handle their political discussions, but it always exposed the problem hidden away under the carpet. Their marriage. A slow parasite killing their hosts and spreading to the next victim. This night she'd have enough of the heat melting her waxy composure. Her bedroom window opened to the different possibilities of either the world or the people. Her thin arms struggled but pushed her through it. A metallic floor caught her on the other side and she carefully made her way down the steps, not needing to tiptoe, because she was so light. For the final steps, she jumped down, then scurried off to somewhere.

Few things moved between the light and dark of the street. Her snuffed face, illuminated by the streetlamp, stared at the long road. She noted that they branched off into different directions, each a different variation of an improbable future. It came down to pure chance that she'd pick the road going right.

This is the main street so more cars glided across it. Each passing light revealed shadowy figures on the spindle girl's path. She'd grown hungry and saw that the first man had a piece of bread. She approached him with a simple silly smile and shyly asked for a little slice of bread. She was small with spindle arms and spindle legs, saw the man. He knew that she wouldn't need much thus he spilt off a little piece for her. The girl thanked him kindly and continued on the road. Soon more people with simple little things came onto her path. She'd ask each one to share with her, whether it be a single bite of food or to impart knowledge to her, but all asked for things in return that she could not give. The girl continued on the road.

Just before she could turn the street corner, a man four times her size captured her by the shoulders. He looked down onto the scared spindle girl's face.
"The world has always been cruel and full of challenges for me. I have come to collect from the curious critter that received bread from another. Why should I suffer if I see that others are being blessed," spited the man. He tore off the little jacket the spindle girl had taken before she ran away. Then he pushed her. She fleed from the predator, seeing how dangerous people could become. The cold couldn't stop her pursuit for something better. 

The spindle girl came to a standstill to catch her breath. Looking around now, she recognised that she is all alone. The situation transformed into an extremely daunting task. The girl has a keen mind and could easily return home. Too, she could not, and see what lies ahead on this path. Courageously, she chose the ladder. 

Recognizing a convenience store she passed by a thought entered her mind. Just the other day her father stole chocolates from this place. Her observing eyes caught him in the act. The spindle girl pondered her father's past. Someone must have taught him to do it. She then recalled a conversation her father had with his friend. He wanted to stop but was bound in a sickening loop of self-hatred and pettiness. Not knowing better, she still enjoyed those chocolates.

Later she saw a beautiful gate built into a luxurious patterned archway. Behind the gate, grass as green as a green gladiolus, and just as soft looking. She wished she could sleep atop that nature's nurtured meadow. Unfortunately, people had built a gate between her and a rare splendour of the world. She saw a dark and grey-coloured house further beyond the gate and devised a plan. If someone wanted to enter or leave, they will have to open the gate. Then in the dark of night, she'll sneak in like a rat.

Her ingenuity proved true when a shiny black car stopped otherside of the gate. Briefly, she saw a silhouette press a remote, flashing red as if it were a warning. The spindle girl hid away as the gate opened. The car drove past and she successfully snuck in.

Unlacing her shoes, she felt the freshness of the grass radiate. The yearning to lay on it grew stronger. When her foot elegantly stepped on it her fears seeped into the ground. She hopped to a beautiful tree with branches coated with sweet kelly green leaves. There she went to sit and gaze upon the garden. It stood juxtaposed to the icy castle. And though the castle could compare to nature's blatant seduction, it was a dead zone tricking humans. She turned onto her side, putting her head onto her clamped hands.

She woke when the moon was the centre of attention in the sky. The cold nipped at the spindle girl's soft cheeks and tiny toes.  Instinctively she looked to the castle. Holding her body tight together she moved sleepily to it.

Her hand pressed against the rough stone wall. It isn't very pleasant, but she imagined that on the inside things would be splendorous. The family living here spent a lot of money on it. She traced the walls until she came to an awkward outcropping of the castle. An open window was within her reach. She used all her energy to get into the dark room. Only from underneath the door radiated light. Occasionally she saw a shadow flying past. It wasn't much hotter in there than outside so she opened the door quietly. Looking around she saw a fine red silk carpet stretch across the corridor and the roof filled with chandeliers. The extravagance stunned her for a second. She shrugged it only because of the loud steps coming for her.

Hastily she dashed the other way, reaching for a door, opening, then closing it with quiet precision. She hushed her breathing and tightened her hearing. Heart beating, she took a few steps back. The shadow passed.

The spindle girl felt for the switch to turn on the light. When she did, her heart skipped a beat. Owls perched on plastic branches. Their beating eyes, no, their fake eyes tore into the spindle girl's petite body. So shocked, her body reactively sunk to the floor.

She crawled to one of the four ivory counters in the room. Behind them, she could avoid the owls' gaze. Then the owlman entered the room. Feathers stuck to his face and his hair was all messy. He stepped around, looking upon his marvellous owls.

When he stood deep into the hall, the spindle girl decided to dash for the open door. The owlman only caught a glimpse of her.

She sprinted on the silk carpet. Right when she wanted to turn the corner, a wrinkle in the carpet tripped her. Owlman, walking illuminated in the yellow light of the corridor, twisted his head to the side, inspecting her natural hair, small body and stick-like arms. He approached slowly.

Refusing to be caught, the spindle girl came to her feet and scurried further. She lost Owlman in the vast halls of the castle. Her spindle body aided her escape when she decided to crawl through a vent.

She was free until her finger pressed against the pressure plate of a mousetrap. Her throat yelped with pain. She wasn't even strong enough to push the spring up. Crawling back out, the owlman awaited her. He removed the trap and cared to the spindle girl's half off finger. Much like a rat, she is caught, but luckily or equally unlucky, she's a human.

The owlman took her to the police where the spindle girl's parents came to get her. Though she was back at her homely abode, she did not prosper.