Remnant Tails

So Long the Farewell

"Ah! No! Scarlet, don't eat that!" I said grabbing a new knit from Scarlet!

As usual, I had to wrest it from her to the ground.

The naughty girl found chewing on just about anything a fun pastime and I didn't have the heart to put her outside, much less let her live out there.

"Why can't you ever go after normal food? Or even Mr. Spanks' 'little notes?' Why must you go after my work?" I asked before restless tension once again settled in my belly.

I grappled with my breath to no avail.

Fear ruled today. Uncertainty was its commander.

Six years. They all but flew by. Slowly. Just not slow enough.

"Naaaaa," Scarlet bleated in my ear.

I tittered a bit and got up, pulling Scarlet to me. I took a hard breath and recalled a sniffle.

"You can't do this at your new home, Scar. They'll think you mad. You're not human so you can't do as you please as you do here. Come now. Let's get ready."

I looked at the knit Scarlet had attempted to chew. It was for Madame. Madame Commora Retor. Our best customer at the parlor. I'd never be able to finish the knit she requested in time. And though I told her this when she ordered it a week ago she persisted. I'd turn it in and Lave'ah would assign the job to someone else. This knit just served as a reminder to what my fate was.

"Death," I said out loud, Scarlet giving me a confused look. "Nothing," I told her, though I knew otherwise.

It was inevitable, and that inevitability grew stronger and stronger over the years. Every day my skin, my bones, they felt stretched and grew painfully tighter. Every day I'd have less and less energy and would have to eat more and more. More and more frightened people became of me and me of them.

Tonight, finally, I'd break the promise to my mother once and for all; for persevering was a choice I'd no longer have.

Bang! I heard outside.

Scarlet ran upstairs. As usual, as I ran to the front.

The seedy, browning green flesh and sickly sweet smell of rotting sweet-melon was all over the front door and porch.

"Witch!" The nasty Larken boy from around the block shouted from a scooter when he was a safe distance away.

"Oh! Really! Then be lucky I haven't cursed you yet, you insufferable cur! Grow up already!" And I meant that. He was several years older than me with no prospects.

No wonder Maive Darrel turned him down.

He turned wide-eyed to stare at me, not seeing his mortified mother walking their mongrel, and with shocked yelps and pitiful cries, they all collided. I cursed yet another family because that's what strange people did. That and clean a lot of ill meaning messes from their humble fronts.

I shouted, "Serves you right!" Then sighed after slamming the door.

Today was a cleaning day anyway.

I filled a bucket with detergent and water, grabbed my best brush, and began scrubbing.

Scrubbing and thinking.

I learned only a year ago that it was okay to scream and shout when I was angry. To not care what people thought about me. Even so, it still shook me up.