Week 1: Forget Me Not

Writing Prompt for Week 1: You come home from school to find a box on your porch. What’s inside?



Her hands were shaking as she walked along the familiar sidewalk. Thirty steps and she'd be home. Behind the door. Safe from them for at least one night. They wouldn't dare enter the house, not knowing who was inside.


A leaf rustled across the street in front of her. She jumped. Stupid leaf. She hurried all the same, glancing backwards. No sign of them yet. There were the front steps. She was almost there.


Then she stopped. Her heart flip flopped as a crisp autumn breeze blew strands of her hair into her eyes. She kept staring, not minding them. A package on the steps. "No," she whimpered. "Please, no."


She glanced around. She had to go inside. None of her kind were safe in the open, not now. Ducking her head, she forced her legs to move forward. Up the steps...where she sat right by the box. Standard cardboard. Poorly taped together. The address was typed. Her fearful frown grew confused. The name. She hadn't been called that since...


She snatched up the box and began tearing at the tape. It stuck and twisted. She clenched her teeth. "Oh come on!" Finally it ripped away carrying a whole layer of cardboard with it. Her breath caught. She paused. Inside sat a pile of crumpled packing paper. She lifted a piece out, watching it unfold like an accordion. Then the paused again.


She reached inside, her fingers groping for what lay beneath the remaining paper. There it was. She pulled it out and sat, her eyes fixed, unable to move. In her hand lay a necklace. The delicate chain was blackened by years of neglect. But the pendant looked as if it had just been cleaned and polished yesterday - a solid silver chess piece. The queen.


A small business card sat nestled where the necklace had lain. She picked it up and examined the curious lettering. No human could have read those words. The translation was even difficult for her after years of reading only human languages. A riddle. Which meant a location. Not his. Where he wanted her to be.


Her heart began pounding, the fast flow of blood threatening to loosen her mind's grip over her appearance and expose her non-human features. She choked back a sob and focused her willpower. For a second, her eyes went solid black, her skin turned gray, and the impression of tiny tusks pushed through her lips. Then her body resumed its guise of soft brown irises, a California tan and quaintly crooked white pearls.


Up she jumped, taking the box and pendant with her. Finally, after years of waiting, he was coming back for her. She could finally go home! She looked around before pulling out her keys. If they let her. She fumbled with the keyhole, then turned the knob and pushed the door open. It didn't matter now. She had never really been safe anyway. She had only imagined it.


Her eyes hardened as she stared at the seemingly serene suburban streets outside, their colorful foliage turning gold and red and fire orange. The colors of her people. This was their season. The Spooks could hunt all they wanted. Her father would be protecting her now. Her and all the Drae. She smiled. "Come and get me, Ardon!"

© 2020 by Joanna G. Holden. Proudly created with Wix.com

  • Facebook Social Icon
  • Twitter Social Icon
  • Instagram Social Icon
  • Pinterest Social Icon
  • YouTube Social  Icon