The Reaping

The Reaping Chapter Four

"Hello? Is anyone here?" My voice bounced off the walls. Only the wind responded.

When my foot met the final step, I noticed a cuckoo clock hanging on the cavern wall near the stone statues. It was a wooden owl with a swinging tail, a large beak and two paw-type hands. The fancy numbers on the clock glittered in gold. The smaller hand pointed at the number three, which didn't give any inclination if it was morning or afternoon. I approached a long table surrounded by chairs set for a dinner party.

There were plates piled high with breads, fruits and cheeses placed in the middle of the table. In front of each dish lay a white, wrinkled piece of paper. These directions, written in a childish hand in red ink, were odd because of the two words—eat me, including one page leaning up against a pitcher with the words—drink me.

A sudden feeling of dizziness and thirst overcame me, and I sat near the edge of the pool. With stagnant and anxious breath I scooped water in my palms and drank. It tasted cool and refreshing, quenching my thirst. After taking deep sips, I rinsed my mouth and wiped my face. My stomach also settled.

I sat there going over everything that had happened. People would miss me. Nathan Alexander would wonder why I never came to his house. He would search for me the moment the sun came up with the help of our neighbors. Perhaps they did now.

Questions popped in my head. How long did I sleep? Was it day or night? Why didn't the mist kill me?

Thoughts of the mist made me shiver, and I hugged my arms to my chest, wishing for something warm like a sweater or blanket. The bandages also felt uncomfortable and chafed my tender skin.

"Can anyone hear me? Hello? Answer me! Why am I here, and what do you have planned for me?" My eyes jumped around the room, waiting to see if someone would appear or speak. Silence permeated all around.

Exhaustion set in, and I rubbed my eyes. The longing to lie down almost overpowered my need to confront the individual who'd brought me to this place. Fear suddenly rushed through my limbs, and I jolted.

What if it wasn't a who but a what? Could the mist be responsible for all of this?

So many questions and no answers. I scratched my head and hugged my bandaged arms around my knees and studied the water. The sounds of the falls soothed my fears and hope grew in my heart that someone would find me soon. I refused to think I was lost forever, so far away or underground where no one could find me.

******

I lay curled in a ball on the side of the pool as I woke from an apparent slumber. After taking some deep breaths and pushing my hair away from my face, I stood, cringing when my right calf cramped along with my stiff neck and arms. Limping over to a chair, I sat, doubled over, wishing the pain to stop. The clock on the wall pointed to the number six. Three hours had passed.

The urge to use the privy became very important. I prowled the large room searching for such a place. But I couldn't locate one and limped back up the stairs to the bedroom hoping to find one there.

I found an empty room in a corner next to the crate full of beautiful clothes. Inside a porcelain bucket lay in the corner. After I finished, I then sat on the bed. More questions ran through my head.

Who would empty the bowl of waste and why was the table set with all that food? Where did all these things come from?

I lay my head on my knees while despair and anguish coursed through my entire body. Tears fell from my eyes and landed on my lips and chin.

If only Nathan Alexander was here to hold me and tell me everything would be all right.

But he wasn't here, and this was all my fault. Why didn't I let him come with me to close my house?