Apples For Cindy (Finished)

Chapter 2:

Chapter 2:

“Thank you, come again.” I smiled as a customer walked away from the wooden stand. She had just bought a bag of apples.  She bought my personal favorite kind and I was jealous. We have seven different kinds of apples growing. Honey Crisp, which was most people’s favorite, Fireside, Yellow Delicious, Jonagold, Keepsake, Connell Red, and Regent.

Keepsake is Elma’s favorite. My favorite is Regent. Eleanor’s favorite is Yellow Delicious. Pa’s favorite is Jonagold, and Momma’s favorite is Fireside.

    The customer had bought the Regent apples.

    Forever will I wonder why she needed so many apples. That bag was full to the brim!

    From the house, I heard a noise. I stopped bagging apples to listen closely.

    “Oh have you seen our Cindy, she comes from way down south, and she’s so sweet the honey bees all swarm around her mouth, I wish I was an apple, a hangin’ in a tree...”

    The music blared.

    I didn’t even know music could get that loud! And when did I open my window? Where was Elma? Eleanor was picking apples and putting them in baskets, but little Elma was nowhere to be seen. She was doing this. But, why so incredibly loud?

    “Eleanor!” I shouted. “Come!”

    She came.

    “Listen.” I told her.

    “I don’t hear anything. Wait! Oh, look! A robin in the tree! Yes, simply a beautiful bird call. I have to go back to work. You okay?”

    “You don’t hear that insanely loud music?”

    “I don’t hear any music.”

    “Fine. Go back to work then!” I growled. I went to the nearby tree, which had Regent apples growing on it. My favorite.

I picked an apple off the tree and crunched into it angrily.

    The music pounded into my head, hurting my ears, as if the sound was a loud heartbeat speaking to me.

    I decided to ask Elma.

    “Elma!” she came running.

    “Hmm...” she mumbled with an apple in her mouth.

    “Do you hear that loud music?”

    “I doon heern nufling.” her mouth was still full.

    I sighed.

I decided to investigate. I ran up the stairs. It got louder and louder every step I took.

When I burst open my door, the room was quiet except for the quiet murmer of the record skipping on low volume. “I wish I was an apple... I wish I was an apple... I wish I was an apple.” It whispered.

The room was intensely cold. Freezing, actually.

“Hello?” I sensed a presence in my room with me. Both of my sisters were outside. Pa was working in the barn.

“Mother?” I asked cautiously. “You in here?”

Only the skipping record answered.

    Suddenly, a hand grabbed my shoulder, and I spun to see my mother.

    “I heard you call. Everything alright?” she asked me, with a worried look in her eyes.

    “I’m fine.” I told her. She sensed my lie, and simply looked at me with a blank stare.

    Silence filled the room.

    Silence?

    The record player had turned off on it’s own. Now that I recall, it turned off right when Momma came in the room.

    “Did you hear the music?”

    “What music, darnlin’?”

    I gulped. “Nevermind, Ma.”

    I was alone in this creepy situation. And, I could feel that it would only get more odd. It would only get creepier. It would only get... weirder.