The Road Home
Hello friends and readers! Dark Inzanity here with another installment of The Road Home. Sorry it's been so long since I updated...what can I say? I got a case of the lazies and my muse took the opportunity to fly south for the winter. I have called and arranged her flight home so hopefully the chapters of Road and Witness will come forth at regular intervals...For now here is the latest chapter of The Road Home. Please sit back, relax, read, enjoy, and please review. Thanks!
This chapter will be in a Third Person Narrative...
Ruthie Camden pulled her jacket tight at the base of her neck, trying to fight off the late-night chill. She had never really been outside after ten o'clock, or maybe eleven once or twice. Never past midnight and she had no idea it could be so could. She wished she had thought to pick up her heavy winter coat, the ones her parents bought her for cold afternoon horse back riding lessons.
Images of her parents and the horses she suddenly realised she would never see flashed through her mind, licking at her memory like flames in a raging wild fire, heated and dangerous, and always threatening to surge out of control. Her parents' faces loomed in the distance, wavering like a desert mirage. Taunting her, tormenting her. They smiled and she reached for them, and the image weakened like a picture drawn on the wind.
Ruthie wiped at her eyes before the tears slid down, before the salt could sting her cheeks. She didn't want to cry, never ever. Never again. She was a big girl now, and big girls shouldn't need to cry. The past was dead and gone, dead and gone just as her parents were dead and gone. No use crying over spilt milk once it was spilt.
Her mind jumped from one thought to the next and temporarily settled on Lucy. She wondered what Lucy was doing, thinking, right then. Had she pulled herself away from Kevin long enough to realise she was gone? Probably not. Maybe there was still time to go back, sneak in, sneak up to her room and slip into bed. Or if she got caught she could say she just had to get out for a little while, get some fresh air. Didn't Lucy notice how stale and stagnant the air in the house felt?
But she knew she wouldn't go home. The world was her home now. Not the big white house the church owned. Not the house where Lucy talked to Kevin about staying the night when her parents weren't even in the ground yet. Well, they would be free to do whatever they liked, they could even sleep together in the attic bedroom if they wanted to, now that Ruthie was gone.
Simon might miss her, and the twins definitely would for a little while. She estimated they would forget about her in a month's time, maybe two months. They were so young, they would forget her, just as they forgot Matt and Mary, and they would forget their own parents in time as well. Their Mommy and Daddy would be talked about with reverence as Matt was, while Ruthie would fall into the long lost, wayward and perhaps derelict category as Mary.
A shrill whistle, sounding like some sort of cat-call, thrust Ruthie out of the forest fire of her uncontrollable thoughts. She looked up and blinked, her eyes needing a moment to focus on the car at the curb in front of her, The passenger window was down and a middle aged man leaned across the seat of his sleek silver Mercedes. He smiled and revealed a row of perfect white teeth. "You need a ride sweetheart?"
Ruthie shook her head, but rose to her feet and dusted off the backs of her legs where the cold air seemed to reach her very bones. "No thank you." She reached back for her bag, and slung it on her shoulders. She took two steps forward, as if she meant to walk away.
"Come on, darlin'. It kills me to think of you all alone out here in the cold." He flashed something just barely above the window. Ruthie stepped closer to see if it was what she thought, a rolled up wad of dollar bills. "It's going to be a cold night, honey. Let me get you a hotel room. Please?"
Her parents always warned her about talking to strangers. Her father had even preached on the subject in church. More than once. She remembered every word he said, but her parents were dead. And she was moving toward the car. One foot in front of the other. Step by step. She knew this stranger wasn't offering to drop her off at the nearest hotel with a wad of cash. He expected something in return. And she reached the car, put her hand on the door handle, pulled, opened, slipped into the passenger seat.
"What's your name, baby?"
"Juliet," she answered quickly, spouting out the first name she thought of besides her own. Ruthie Camden was in that moment as dead as her parents.
* * * * * * * * * *
Simon Camden's heart raced and his stomach rumbled with fear. The headlights from the other car came toward him, hurtling through time and space, destined to crash. He knew it, knew he was powerless to stop the unfathomable. He gripped the steering wheel so tight that his arms ached from the strain and his entire body grew taught with the anticipation.
Hi own scream woke him and he found himself safe in his own bed. His heart seemed to be thumping in his throat and he knew he was about to be sick. He pushed Happy off his lap and stumbled to the bathroom, reaching the toilet just in time.
Whe he felt completely empty inside, he stood at the sick, carefully avoiding his own image in the mirror, and splashed cold water on his face. He thought about a warm shower, or maybe a bath to help him relax, but he knew he wasn't going to relax. How could he even think of it when his parents were dead?
He needed to check on everyone else, needed to see them and reassure himself they were there and unharmed. He started with the twins, two innocent tow-headed boys fast asleep in their matching beds, still dressed in their day clothes. He stood for a long time in their doorway watching the even rise and fall of their little chests. He imagined his mother doing the same thing, knew she had stood guard over all her babies in this way. She had stood in the very same doorway where Simon stood now, just two nights earlier, before she left for Mr. Wilkes New Years' Eve party.
Simon wondered if she had any clue at all that she would never see her babies again after that. He knew sometimes it seemed, after the fact, that people knew they were going to die. Little things like one extra kiss, or a romantic note left on a pillow. Something that seemed sweet or normal at the time and only later some survivor put the pieces together and identified it as some kind of earthly good-bye. He wondered if he could find any such message from his parents in his memories of the last few days. He hoped he could, because some special little sign like that might give him some kind of closure.
With a weary sigh, he forced himself to turn away from the twins, fearing he might stand there all night watching their innocent sleep. He could only hope Ruthie had been able to find a similar peace in her soul. He expected she had because she wasn't in his room, seeking comfort next to him as she had always looked to him in the past. He realised as he trudged up the steps that he felt disappointed that he didn't wake to find Ruthie in his room.
Maybe she had come to him, and turned away when she found him asleep. She wouldn't have wanted to disturb him. He could deal with that.
The attic bedroom seemed unnaturally quiet, and lay totally empty. No Ruthie, no Lucy. Only Happy on the stairs behind him. He reached down to pet her between the ears. "Where do you think they are, Girl? Do you think they're downstairs gorging themselves on ice cream and potato chips? That's what I think."
He went down to find them, and found the kitchen as quiet as the bedroom. Lucy and Kevin he found in the living room, huddled together on the sofa. That's how they looked. Huddled. Not cuddling. Not simply hugging or laying together. They were huddled, as Kevin meant to shield Lucy from the world around her.
"Lucy?" Simon heard his own voice but barely recognized it because of the raw fear he felt suddenly clawing at his throat. "Where's Ruthie?"
Kevin sat up and Lucy sat up and Simon stared at their two tear streaked faces. "Simon..."
"Where is she?"
Lucy shook her head and Kevin got to his feet. She looked so small, so fragile, where he left her sitting on the sofa. "Simon...Ruthie is...Ruthie left."
"What? Left? What does that mean?"
"It means...she's run away."
"How do you know?" Simon glared at Kevin as if he blamed Kevin for Ruthie's apparent departure.
""Some of her clothes are missing and the money your mom kept hidden in the coffee can above the refrigerator."
"Oh God..." Simon sat down in the nearest chair and the dam that held back his tears blew apart, creating a raging river that flowed down his face.
Hello friends and readers! Dark Inzanity here with another installment of The Road Home. Sorry it's been so long since I updated...what can I say? I got a case of the lazies and my muse took the opportunity to fly south for the winter. I have called and arranged her flight home so hopefully the chapters of Road and Witness will come forth at regular intervals...For now here is the latest chapter of The Road Home. Please sit back, relax, read, enjoy, and please review. Thanks!
This chapter will be in a Third Person Narrative...
Ruthie Camden pulled her jacket tight at the base of her neck, trying to fight off the late-night chill. She had never really been outside after ten o'clock, or maybe eleven once or twice. Never past midnight and she had no idea it could be so could. She wished she had thought to pick up her heavy winter coat, the ones her parents bought her for cold afternoon horse back riding lessons.
Images of her parents and the horses she suddenly realised she would never see flashed through her mind, licking at her memory like flames in a raging wild fire, heated and dangerous, and always threatening to surge out of control. Her parents' faces loomed in the distance, wavering like a desert mirage. Taunting her, tormenting her. They smiled and she reached for them, and the image weakened like a picture drawn on the wind.
Ruthie wiped at her eyes before the tears slid down, before the salt could sting her cheeks. She didn't want to cry, never ever. Never again. She was a big girl now, and big girls shouldn't need to cry. The past was dead and gone, dead and gone just as her parents were dead and gone. No use crying over spilt milk once it was spilt.
Her mind jumped from one thought to the next and temporarily settled on Lucy. She wondered what Lucy was doing, thinking, right then. Had she pulled herself away from Kevin long enough to realise she was gone? Probably not. Maybe there was still time to go back, sneak in, sneak up to her room and slip into bed. Or if she got caught she could say she just had to get out for a little while, get some fresh air. Didn't Lucy notice how stale and stagnant the air in the house felt?
But she knew she wouldn't go home. The world was her home now. Not the big white house the church owned. Not the house where Lucy talked to Kevin about staying the night when her parents weren't even in the ground yet. Well, they would be free to do whatever they liked, they could even sleep together in the attic bedroom if they wanted to, now that Ruthie was gone.
Simon might miss her, and the twins definitely would for a little while. She estimated they would forget about her in a month's time, maybe two months. They were so young, they would forget her, just as they forgot Matt and Mary, and they would forget their own parents in time as well. Their Mommy and Daddy would be talked about with reverence as Matt was, while Ruthie would fall into the long lost, wayward and perhaps derelict category as Mary.
A shrill whistle, sounding like some sort of cat-call, thrust Ruthie out of the forest fire of her uncontrollable thoughts. She looked up and blinked, her eyes needing a moment to focus on the car at the curb in front of her, The passenger window was down and a middle aged man leaned across the seat of his sleek silver Mercedes. He smiled and revealed a row of perfect white teeth. "You need a ride sweetheart?"
Ruthie shook her head, but rose to her feet and dusted off the backs of her legs where the cold air seemed to reach her very bones. "No thank you." She reached back for her bag, and slung it on her shoulders. She took two steps forward, as if she meant to walk away.
"Come on, darlin'. It kills me to think of you all alone out here in the cold." He flashed something just barely above the window. Ruthie stepped closer to see if it was what she thought, a rolled up wad of dollar bills. "It's going to be a cold night, honey. Let me get you a hotel room. Please?"
Her parents always warned her about talking to strangers. Her father had even preached on the subject in church. More than once. She remembered every word he said, but her parents were dead. And she was moving toward the car. One foot in front of the other. Step by step. She knew this stranger wasn't offering to drop her off at the nearest hotel with a wad of cash. He expected something in return. And she reached the car, put her hand on the door handle, pulled, opened, slipped into the passenger seat.
"What's your name, baby?"
"Juliet," she answered quickly, spouting out the first name she thought of besides her own. Ruthie Camden was in that moment as dead as her parents.
* * * * * * * * * *
Simon Camden's heart raced and his stomach rumbled with fear. The headlights from the other car came toward him, hurtling through time and space, destined to crash. He knew it, knew he was powerless to stop the unfathomable. He gripped the steering wheel so tight that his arms ached from the strain and his entire body grew taught with the anticipation.
Hi own scream woke him and he found himself safe in his own bed. His heart seemed to be thumping in his throat and he knew he was about to be sick. He pushed Happy off his lap and stumbled to the bathroom, reaching the toilet just in time.
Whe he felt completely empty inside, he stood at the sick, carefully avoiding his own image in the mirror, and splashed cold water on his face. He thought about a warm shower, or maybe a bath to help him relax, but he knew he wasn't going to relax. How could he even think of it when his parents were dead?
He needed to check on everyone else, needed to see them and reassure himself they were there and unharmed. He started with the twins, two innocent tow-headed boys fast asleep in their matching beds, still dressed in their day clothes. He stood for a long time in their doorway watching the even rise and fall of their little chests. He imagined his mother doing the same thing, knew she had stood guard over all her babies in this way. She had stood in the very same doorway where Simon stood now, just two nights earlier, before she left for Mr. Wilkes New Years' Eve party.
Simon wondered if she had any clue at all that she would never see her babies again after that. He knew sometimes it seemed, after the fact, that people knew they were going to die. Little things like one extra kiss, or a romantic note left on a pillow. Something that seemed sweet or normal at the time and only later some survivor put the pieces together and identified it as some kind of earthly good-bye. He wondered if he could find any such message from his parents in his memories of the last few days. He hoped he could, because some special little sign like that might give him some kind of closure.
With a weary sigh, he forced himself to turn away from the twins, fearing he might stand there all night watching their innocent sleep. He could only hope Ruthie had been able to find a similar peace in her soul. He expected she had because she wasn't in his room, seeking comfort next to him as she had always looked to him in the past. He realised as he trudged up the steps that he felt disappointed that he didn't wake to find Ruthie in his room.
Maybe she had come to him, and turned away when she found him asleep. She wouldn't have wanted to disturb him. He could deal with that.
The attic bedroom seemed unnaturally quiet, and lay totally empty. No Ruthie, no Lucy. Only Happy on the stairs behind him. He reached down to pet her between the ears. "Where do you think they are, Girl? Do you think they're downstairs gorging themselves on ice cream and potato chips? That's what I think."
He went down to find them, and found the kitchen as quiet as the bedroom. Lucy and Kevin he found in the living room, huddled together on the sofa. That's how they looked. Huddled. Not cuddling. Not simply hugging or laying together. They were huddled, as Kevin meant to shield Lucy from the world around her.
"Lucy?" Simon heard his own voice but barely recognized it because of the raw fear he felt suddenly clawing at his throat. "Where's Ruthie?"
Kevin sat up and Lucy sat up and Simon stared at their two tear streaked faces. "Simon..."
"Where is she?"
Lucy shook her head and Kevin got to his feet. She looked so small, so fragile, where he left her sitting on the sofa. "Simon...Ruthie is...Ruthie left."
"What? Left? What does that mean?"
"It means...she's run away."
"How do you know?" Simon glared at Kevin as if he blamed Kevin for Ruthie's apparent departure.
""Some of her clothes are missing and the money your mom kept hidden in the coffee can above the refrigerator."
"Oh God..." Simon sat down in the nearest chair and the dam that held back his tears blew apart, creating a raging river that flowed down his face.