The October air was stale with the scent of decaying leaves and wet soil.
Krista sat behind the largest pumpkin in the patch off the road home. Her hands felt cool against the moist dirt. She snuck a glance over the pumpkin and found nobody was in sight. She knelt down on her knees and withdrew her library book from her bag. It was a compendium of Grimm Fairytales. It was thick as it was large. The green hard-cover had an oil-painting of a thinly-clothed woman asleep on a marble altar with roses growing around her hair.
Out of all the stories, Krista loved Sleeping Beauty the most.
Her shaky hands stroked the cover, tracing the small scratches and dents in it.
Sometimes, when she would read at night, she'd feel like the sleeping princess.
Krista looked up at the grey sky.
It was getting dark now.
The birch trees that lined the patch were still as their gold and orange leaves fell to the ground.
A drop of perspiration fell into her eye. She wiped the sweat from her brow and recoiled. The bruise above her eye stung. She wished that she could go to sleep and wake up to a happy ending like the princess. That she was beautiful enough to have all these wonderful things happen.
Krista opened the book to her bookmark. The words were familiar. She bet that she could close her eyes and read it from memory. She smeared the snot coming from her nose on her sleeve as she began to read where she left off.
"She shall have a temper as sweet as an angel," Krista's voice was uneven as she kept breathing heavily.
She stopped reading and tried to catch her breath. She didn't want to think of why she was in the pumpkin patch, hiding, and with a growing bruise above her eye. She couldn't even concentrate on reading.
Krista took a large inhale but the autumn air was too much.
She erupted into a fit of coughs.
"I heard something over there!" A voice called out.
Krista covered her mouth and ducked her head to her knees. She closed her book and held it above her head just in case another rock was thrown at her. The sound of bicycles rolled through the patch.
Krista held her breath as they stopped nearby.
"Where did she go?"
"I don't know."
Krista's curiosity got the best of her as she took a glance beyond her pumpkin.
The five boys were looking towards the forest by the patch. One of them began to turn their head as she quickly darted behind the pumpkin again.
"I bet she ran in there!"
"Yeah right. Girls can't run that fast."
"They don't, but we could'a got her if you were faster!"
"Let's go then! My mom is waiting for me!"
The bicycles went speeding by and onto the forest trail.
Krista was still until she couldn't hear their laughing anymore.
She coughed more as she was finally able to breathe again. Her knuckles hurt as she let go of her book. She wiped the sweat off her brow again. She stood up, scanning for the boys. When she couldn't see them, she put the book back into her bag and took off running back onto the dirt road.
She felt her heart race now that she was in the open.
Krista's blonde hair whipped around her as she ran home.
Her farm's property came into view along the road. It was lined with a decaying, mossy fence. She stopped and slid through a gap in the posts. She looked down the road to see the gang of boys on their bicycles racing towards her direction. She gasped and ran to the house.
She didn't look back in fear they were gaining on her.
The farmhouse sat on top of a grassy knoll with only one, large willow tree in the front. An old tire swing hung from it—the chains were rusty as it squeaked in the wind. Its cry beckoning her to rush up the last of the hill. The screen door opened as she stopped in front of porch's steps.
Krista was breathing heavily while hugging herself. Her grandpa came out of the house. He put his old, grease-stained Gatsby cap on. He shook his head and closed the door. She stiffened when he turned towards her. The porch light turned on as his brown eyes lit up even though his face was stern. He crossed his arms.
She bit her lip and glanced towards the tire swing.
Within its circle, the sun was beginning to set. She was late.
"I'm sorry," Krista said. She felt her hands wring around each other as she tried to keep her breathing steady.
Krista looked down at her feet. She saw his muddy work boots shift until she saw his knees, too. She looked up to see he was crouching near her. He put his wrinkled, calloused hand to the side of her face. His palm covered half of it. Gently, his hand went to the bruise above her eye. She winced as he prodded near the bruise with observing eyes.
She moved her face away in discomfort.
"Um…I-I was walking home, and then Jordice and them came on their bikes. Someone threw a rock at me and hit me in the head. I ran through Mr. George's property and hid in his pumpkin patch until I felt it was safe to come home. I would've gone straight home! I didn't mean to be late!"
His hand was becoming wet as she realized she was crying. She could barely feel her own tears on her cold face.
"I tried to get home!" Krista's nose was runny and she felt her throat become scratchy.
Grandpa frowned and moved his hand to her forehead.
"You're getting sick."
He stood up, stuffing his hands in his pockets. His face was deep with wrinkles. His sunken eyes bore down on her. His lips were pursed and his chevron mustache twitched to the right. It always did that when he was thinking. Krista saw him often do it when he did his crosswords. He took his hands out of his pockets and went inside.
She followed, trying to muffle her sobbing. She wiped my nose again and wished she had a mirror to smooth her hair down.
"Krista's back," he announced.
From the kitchen, she heard mild cursing and the stomps of her grandmother's feet. She came upon Krista like a storm until the small blond was in her shadow.
"Missy!" She bellowed. Krista felt her chest tighten as she took a step back.
"You were out with those boys again, weren't you?! You're eight and still don't listen! How many times do I have to tell you!?" In one hand, she had a ladle that smelled like chicken broth. In the other was a towel.
"Your hair is messy! Auggghh, and your dress too! Why, I don't think you've learned from last time!" Grandmother brought the ladle close to Krista's face. She was readying herself for a swat.
However, grandma pulled away and glared at Krista.
"Helena!" Grandmother cried out. She turned towards the stairs with a scowl.
"Helena!" She screamed again.
This time Krista heard a sigh and the quiet sound of feet shuffling. Descending like a queen, her mom made her approach. Her black dress was glittering and red lipstick glinting. Her face was completely composed. Her blonde hair was in a messy bun.
Grandpa quietly left to the living room now. Krista felt my throat tighten in fear. She wish he stayed near her.
"What is it?" Krista's mom's voice was soft and beautiful.
"Discipline your daughter! She was out late and with boys! Take care of your child!"
Grandmother grumbled and went to the kitchen.
Her mom kept her gaze on grandma's back when she got to the bottom of the stairs.
"Why do you do this?" She asked. Her voice was cold and dead like how she always spoke to Krista.
She wouldn't look at her daughter.
She never did. Krista felt the tears swell up again.
She almost choked as she swallowed the lump in her throat.
"I-I-I was coming home, and—"
"I don't want to hear it." Mom sighed, walking into the living room.
"Dad," she smiled. Krista followed in after her.
Grandpa glanced at Krista with a frown then at mom. His face tightened as she seated on the arm of his chair, taking the book out of his hands and reading the cover.
"I will go get it." Krista's voice was weak as she already knew what she had to do. Papa nodded at her. She began to walk out, listening to what her mom was saying.
"Eric will be coming to pick me up, and I just put on my face. Can you do it?" Her voice was like velvet as Krista shut the front door.
She stepped off the porch and went to the willow tree. She walked around it, trailing her hand on its rough trunk while staring up at its branches. She stopped as she found the largest branch she could break off. She climbed up the tree and to the branch. She wiggled it until it loosened before throwing herself on it.
A loud snap and the branch and she went falling to the ground.
She stood up, brushing off her dress, and retrieved the branch. She dragged it behind her as she went back to the house, preparing herself to get whipped.
"Watch out," her mom went out of the house. She pushed past Krista and waited for her boyfriend.
Krista glanced down the dirt road to see a car coming up the drive-way. She continued up the porch until she was inside with the willow branch.
"Here, papa." She put it down by him.
The fire was roaring in the corner as the old radio's music mingled with static. He sat down the book he was reading and took it in his hands. He examined it closely. He gave a test swat to the palm of his hand without a flinch.
A red mark formed where the branch struck.
"Goddammit, that girl!" Grandmother roared again.
Krista hopped near papa in fright.
Grandma went stomping down the hallway and Krista could hear the flap of her coat.
"Helena didn't even go and get the milk like I said. I will be right back! You talk to her when she gets back!" Grandmother growled and slammed the door as she left.
Krista and her grandpa were left in silence.
"Now," grandpa spoke. She turned around quickly and she lifted her dress to expose her underwear-clad rear to him.
Krista squeezed her eyes' shut, ready to be disciplined.
Her grandpa's hand on her shoulder made her jump. He turned her around. His eyes were soft.
"I don't feel like grabbing another stack of wood. Why don't we call it even if you throw this in the fire?" He leaned back, handing Krista the willow branch.
She felt her eyes widen. She wasn't sure if she heard him right as she was rooted to her spot.
Grandpa raised an eyebrow and wagged the branch near her. Krista snatched it from him as fast as she could.
"Y-yes sir!" Krista quickly went to the fire and threw it in.
The fire crackled and sputtered as the leaves were enveloped in its flames. She felt her cheeks sting from warmth as she smiled, hugging herself. She kneeled down in front of the fire, rubbing the tears and snot from her face with her sleeve.
"Our secret," grandpa was staring at Krista as he sought his book again.
"Our secret." Krista felt the snot cover her lips again, but she smiled at him. His mustache twitched as his lips ever lightly turned upward.
A/N:
The first chapter might undergo several edits and changes before the second chapter is put up.