UNDONE.

_{Warning: This book may contain some triggering situations.}

_{I created this image via Canva}

The smell of smoke filled my nostrils in an unpleasant way. Seated on a cliff, I could see the blackened air go up further onto the sky. There was a fire somewhere. A location I couldn’t pinpoint due to the absurd spot I had decided to slump and think.

It had been an hour since I ran off from our house in the village after arguing with mother. She had scowled me for what I swore I didn’t do and dismissed me by saying I told a lie. “Why would I lie?” I asked myself, finding a stone on the ground I sat on and flinging it off the cliff. My mother never really liked me to say the least. She had always preferred Rachel, my elder sister, to me. The show of hatred wasn’t this obvious, she had cared and looked after me like any mother would, making the show of resent easy to manage and ignore. My whole life had always been about pleasing her, doing anything to make her love me; just a little love would leave me content.

Every hope of that ever coming into reality was shredded into pieces the night the news came. My mother was enjoying a cup of tea, Rachel was out and I was at a corner reading a children’s book when we heard a knock on the door. With furrowed brows, I stared at the back of my mother as she walked to open the door to whoever it was.

It was bad news.

My mother fell to the ground in a wail, sobbing and shaking. Rachel had been killed, torn apart by animals. The news had it that she was in company of a boy from our village. They had wandered into the forest and were encountered by some feral wolves. The hunters who found them brought a leafy green scarf which we identified as Rachel’s. I mourned her. Irrespective of her being mother’s favorite, Rachel had always protected me from mother’s cruel words and abuse. She held me and told me stories when I couldn’t sleep or breathe properly at night due to mother’s cruelty. I couldn’t blame nor despise her for being mother’s favourite. Unfortunately, I loved her and she loved me too. She was my shield. Some days I would stare blankly at the bed we shared, foolishly hoping some miracle would happen and she would be there, safe and uninjured on the mattress, like it never happened.

I could oddly hear the air leave my nostrils as I sighed and stood up from where I sat. I wasn’t going to let what mother said get into my head; she had said worse things than that. I didn’t do it. That, I was sure of. Urging my legs to move, I lazily started my walk back to the village. The village was about 10 minutes from where I was. I had run that far due to the adrenaline pumping through my veins at that moment. I was brought to a halt when the faintest smell of smoke reached my sense organ, “Smoke?”
The fire I sensed earlier was somewhere. "Shoot!" The village!

I took off, sprinting to the village. Everything looked fine from afar until I reached it. That’s when I saw the smoke. There was a fire but it had died down. The dark thickened atmosphere was the only sign that there was an incident. Moving faster to my house, I began to panic. The village was oddly quiet which was strange because it is never completely quiet. Either you find children playing moonlight games or drunk men falling and talking about hunting, women, anything. But I couldn’t see a soul anywhere.

Finally, I was at the door of my house. Trying to steady my fast beating heart, I breathed in and out once and opened the door to my house. “Mother”, I called out, strolling into the house completely now. I walked to her room, pushing the door slightly to see the inside but she was nowhere to be seen. “Mother”, I called out once more with panic laced in my voice.

A creak in the floorboards made me jump. I felt an odd tingly sensation on my back. Someone was watching me, it felt like it. Quickly, I sprinted to the kitchen to get a table knife. I wasn’t sure a table knife could do anything against someone ready to take my life but I wasn’t going to die without trying. I was met with something red on the table, it was blood then claw marks. Slowly I looked down to my feet to see the reddish liquid. I was on it, had stepped on it. Horrified, I slowly walked to the other side of the table.

There it was. A head, my mother’s head. Torn away from her body and just few inches from it. My eyeballs were a few seconds from popping out my sockets. With shaky hands, I lifted her head to look at me, my hands stained with blood. Her hollow eyes were staring right back at me. Shuddering from the terror and gory sight I now beheld, a pool of tears had gathered at the corner of my eyes. I played oblivious to them as they trailed down my cheeks. With unsteady legs, I walked towards the front door and out of the house.

It was near dawn when I woke up. Blinking my eyes properly in order to see, I stood up from the clearing I had taken shelter in. Two weeks. I’ve been away from the village for 14 days. After finding a suitable place to bury the head of my mother, I wandered off. I had nowhere to go as I walked away from the village. The place I now hold accountable for the death of my sister and mother. Both meant dear to me. I had shed tears for them despite being hated by mother, I loved her. For this reason solely, I had strived and endured it all with the hope that one day she will look at me with endearment in her eyes. It hadn’t sunk in. Everything that happened in that hour hasn’t sunk in.
I should have been there. I shouldn’t have taken off. Maybe they would have been too weary to have a witness and maybe, just maybe they would have left her alone

Tears rolled down my cheek as I lifted a bag from the floor and continued moving. To where? I had no idea. One when enlightened about my ambition would call be a fool. I was a fool. A coward. I had left the village unable to stomach the idea of going back to that house, of living in it. I couldn’t, so I fled. And now, I was going to die of starvation or fall into the hands of the wild. I shuddered, both ways weren’t how laid out my death to be. A crow flapped its wings and flew above me, soaring around the trees.

Treacherous thing.

I read in books that crows weren’t as sweet and nice as most birds. They were part of the evil ones just as some humans, good and evil. It cawed once then disappeared, flying to God knows where. The sound of a wood snap made me halt in my movement. Moving my head to look back, I searched my surrounding, squinting my eyes a little to see clearly. When I was sure there wasn’t anything else with me here, I continued my walk.

THE END?