Prompt: Write a story about a smell - good or bad.


There it was again. Another scream, coming from the direction of Elric's farm. Heather was scared- panic seized her heart as she dropped her berry pail and ran for home, Picket following close behind her. Something wasn't right. Mr. Elric was in trouble. She had to reach the house- had to make sure that she and Picket were safe. Father would know what to do, and Mother would reassure her that everything was okay.

Heather turned as Picket lagged behind. There was no time for delay- her mind was quickly playing out for her multiple scenarios of danger that could be occurring at Mr. Elric's farm right now. Hawks. Evil.

Death.

"We have to move, Picket!" Heather cried, urging him on. They had to stick together. "There's no time! We can still make it in time to warn them, if we hurry. Think of Jacks!"

Picket nodded and together they ran on.

Before they even reached Seven Mounds, Heather detected an awful smell hanging in the air. This morning, the air had smelled fresh and green and earthy, on account of the rainstorm last night. The wind had been gentle and warm, and the sun had been shining so cheerfully. Now there was a gray haze beginning to steal over the atmosphere, and the sweet smell of springtime was choked out by this foul stench.

Heather didn't know it then, but it was the scent of destruction.

As she and Picket sped past Seven Mounds the smell grew worse. It was heavy in the air, and Heather couldn't tell if it was an acidic smoke, or something else. It became harder to tell exactly where it came from, only that it became stronger with every step she took.

Every step that was homeward.

Turning the corner out of West Wood, Heather was stopped in her tracks. Picket bumped into her, and together they stood panting at the edge of the clearing. And Heather's heart leapt in her throat.

Her Elm Tree home was burning.

Smoke poured out of every window, and orange flames reached up into the spreading branches above. The spring wind carried the foul-smelling smoke in blinding wisps across the clearing. Dark figures- Wolves- stood organized outside.

It was gone. Home was gone. Heather grabbed her brother and hauled him back into the relative safety of the woods. Her heart beat fast with fear. Mother. Father. Jacks. The smell of the horrid smoke pressed into her lungs, threatening to make her sick, as her mind raced. The smell that was still there, even when she closed her eyes and prayed this wasn't happening. The smell that told her the happiest memories of her childhood were burning away. Home, parents, safety, hope. It was all burning.

This was the worst day of her life.