The Fallen Queen (Winner of the Write Way Award 2013) #Wattys2015 #MyWattysChoice #Featured

Chapter 6: Angels and Demons

I was so afraid of monsters. My imagination was able to create monster stories on its own. I did not need to hear or read anything to trigger it. My pink and blue room lost its enchantment overnight. The wind whistled and moved the branches in the tree in front of my window. I did not want to see out the window. I was afraid to see the faces of some evil creatures my mother told me about.

“If you do bad things, the devil will come to you,” my mother said.

I feared they were lurking in my room. I sometimes felt them as they touched my feet and legs under the blanket. I could feel their cold fingers wrapping around my limbs, their breath on my hair.

One day, my mother announced to us that she and my dad were going away for three days and that Grandma was going to come watch over us during that time. Soon enough, my father entered the house with a floral suitcase hanging from one of his hands. My grandmother followed him in, a well-intended grin on her face.

“Hello, children! Look at you, so neat looking. You look like little angels.”

She bent down to our level and patted each one of our heads.

“Three days is a long time,” I mumbled, not being sure I would manage to get used to that sudden change.

“You will see. Time flies,” said my grandmother in her usual mousy voice. “Your parents will be back before you know it.”

“Where are Daddy and Mother going?” asked Audrey.

“Your dad and I need to be alone for sometime,” answered my mother, with a tone that meant we should not ask anything else about that.

My father disappeared upstairs with my grandmother’s luggage and reappeared with a light brown leather one, my mother’s and his.

One after another, my parents passed the entrance, the door closed, and we heard the car engine starting. We rushed to the window to wave to them. As the car passed by our house, our parents did not see us. They did not have kids anymore.

Grandma clapped her hands to bring our attention to her. “Well, are you kids hungry?”

“Yeah!” said Jeremy, running to the table. He sat down, waiting quietly for his meal to be served. Jeremy almost never spoke—unless he was asked a food-related question.

“What are we gonna eat?” I asked doubtfully. Grandma never cooked for us before. I wondered what she would make. I hoped it would not be something weird.

“What about baby pancakes?” said Grandma, smiling. She knew the term “baby” would make it even more interesting to us.

“Baby pancakes? Why baby?” asked Audrey.

“Because they are small pancakes. They’re cuter,” answered Grandma. “Come on, go wash your hands and you can help me prepare them.”

I had prepared crepes many times before. With flour, eggs, milk, melted butter, and a pinch of salt. Daddy taught me and I always made them for Jeremy and Audrey when he was doing the dishes, fixing the plumbing, or other things in the kitchen. If Daddy was Grandma’s son, they certainly did not have the same recipe. Grandma saw there was no eggs in the fridge, so instead of going to buy some, she did it without. She also put in white sugar and water. Her batter was whiter than I was used to, but once cooked and drowned in syrup, they still tasted good. We loved having something that sweet for dinner. I felt we were going to get along just fine with Grandma.

I slept well that night. But Audrey did not. It might have been because she felt betrayed by our parents for having left us like that. It might have been because she did not feel as secure. Perhaps she also thought that Grandma’s snoring was that of a bear. Grandma was really snoring deep and loud. Whatever it was, Audrey woke up, and she could not stop crying.