writing-and-dreaming - Tumblr blog

[writing-and-dreaming]

Survival on the Streets

Open in Medium:

https://medium.com/@madelephant2002/survival-on-the-streets-bd6223e7b85?source=friends_link&sk=e0ca13ac2d299116f28b0a212c19b5bf

Or Wattpad:

https://www.wattpad.com/928879883-survival-on-the-streets

Or read it here :) 

Image Source: Photocircle 

Shakti heard a shout and the sound of a dog barking.

“Wake up,” she whispered urgently to the children around her. She was lying on a thin piece of cardboard in a cold train station in the city of Kolkata. It was early morning, and still dark outside. She stood up hastily and started pulling some of the other small, filthy children onto their feet. How many would be taken this time? “Come on, get up!” she whispered more urgently this time. The sounds of the station guards were getting louder by the second.

Shakti’s parents had died a few years earlier, leaving her poor and orphaned in the streets of a huge city. A city that crushed the poor and poverty-stricken like dead leaves under its feet. She had needed to fend for herself, surviving on stolen or scavenged food, dirty water and her ability to run. Fast.

The girl looked up. She could see torchlight dancing across the walls of the corridor. The men were almost here. “Wake them!” she ordered, and a few of the children started shaking the small ones who were still sleeping.

Shakti’s eyes darted upwards, and she was immediately blinded by the light of a torch. They were here. Burly men were sprinting towards them now and she grabbed some more of the children off of their mats, yanking at their dirty clothes and shoving them down the corridor, away from the guards.

“Run!” she hollered. There were still children on the ground with bleary eyes. She supposed they had never been awoken like this before. Shakti had experienced this time and time again, and she knew there was no saving these poor kids. She didn’t know where they would be taken, or what would happen to them, but she knew she would never see them again, she had to leave. Shakti saw a man grab a little boy, no older than 3, off of the ground and sling him over his shoulder, a rag doll. Dogs snarled and barked at the children on the ground, who shuffled towards the walls, fear in their big eyes.

Suddenly a face with a huge moustache obscured her view. She had a guard on her trail. The little girl turned and hurled herself forwards, narrowly escaping the man’s grasping fingers. She raced down the dark corridor, flinching at the pains in her muscles, which ached from sleeping on the hard ground night after night. She saw the doorway ahead of her and knew she could get there. She was quicker than the guard. She had to be. The sounds of dogs barking and the screeching of the children who didn’t get away in time echoed behind her. Shakti whipped her head around to check if the guard was still chasing her, but he seemed to have given up. That didn’t mean she could slow down.

Shakti turned left into a side alley, only to meet face to face with another child running straight towards her, another station guard hot on his heels. Yelping, she flung herself back the other way narrowly avoiding a collision with the child.

“This way!” she yelled to the young boy, turning left at the intersection she had just come from. Shakti usually took a different path to the other children to raise her chances of getting away safely, but this time she would have to follow the path most of the young children had taken. Again Shakti turned her head, and this time found that the boy was close behind her, and the guard was far away.

“You can actually run,” she marveled.

“I’m pretty fast,” He replied.

Shakti and the boy emerged into the long street outside the station, panting. The guards never followed her this far. They were safe, or as safe as orphans in Kolkata can be.

She turned to the boy, only to find he was no longer by her side. He was approaching one of the market stalls that was being set up, ready for the sun to rise and the day to begin. She ran across the street and sunk into the shadows with him.

“What are you doing?” she asked quietly.

He frowned at her, “Getting myself breakfast, don’t you dare get me caught,”

Shakti raised an eyebrow at him, “Hmmph, you know I can run, what’s your name, anyway?”

The boy had begun to move towards the nearest stall, which was nearly overflowing with fruits of every shape and colour.

“Shh!” he hissed at her. Shakti guessed that they should talk later. The boy grabbed a shiny red fruit, and Shakti snatched a yellow one for herself. They were noticed instantly, and broke into a sprint in the opposite direction as the grocer who owned the fruit began to yell at them.

“Get them!” the man yelled, and a younger man stood up, eyeing the children menacingly. He started to run. Shakti looked behind her and realised that the young man was catching up — quickly.

“We have to split up,” she said to the boy, who was still running beside her.

“That’s what I was gonna say!” he exclaimed. Shakti ran away from the boy and up a dark street. The man followed her, allowing the boy to get away. She led him through alleyways and streets, ducking behind bins and bushes.

Shakti saw a crevice between two houses and ran into it, knowing that the man was too broad to reach far inside. But as she moved inside she realised it was a dead end. She moved swiftly out of the gap, only to be grabbed firmly by a strong hand. The man had his hand around her forearm and was snarling down at her.

“Really thought you could get away with it huh?”

The man’s gravelly voice was silenced as something red and pulpy hit the back of his head with a splat. He released his grip on her arm and crumpled to the ground. Shakti was left gaping as she slowly looked up. The boy from earlier was standing just a few metres away, and Shakti soon noticed that the fruit he had stolen had been used to knock the man unconscious.

“You — you saved me?”

“I couldn’t let him hurt you.”

“Thank you,” She got out, walking towards the boy.

If it wasn’t for him, she could have been beaten, or taken to wherever thieving orphans go. She didn’t know how to repay him, but she broke the yellow fruit open and offered him half of it.

“Thanks,” he said, taking the fruit.

“That’s ok,” Shakti answered. They ate together in silence.

“Can we be friends?” He asked.

“Of course!” She smiled.

“My name is Jay, by the way,”

“And I’m Shakti,”

[writing-and-dreaming]

Within The Wardrobe

Open in Medium:

Or Wattpad:

Or read it here :)

Art by John Kenn Mortensen 

Mattie was a little girl. She lived in a big house with her grandfather, her nanny and a cat called Susan. One could look out of window in that house and enjoy the nothingness, stretching on as far as the eye can see. When Mattie chose to look out of the windows, she preferred the ones with stained glass. They were more interesting.

In the evenings, Mattie and Susan would sit on the stairwell and look upon her grandfather and his guests. The men wore tail coats and had curly mustaches, and the women wore large skirts and hats, adorned with feathers and flowers. These extravagant guests appeared every night but they never seemed to notice Mattie. She was permitted to watch and wonder, but questions were not allowed. She would go to bed while they were still there and awaken to an empty house in the morning. She longed to join them.

It was a Wednesday night. Mattie sat at the top of the stairs and observed the party. A violin howled, lonely in the corner of the ballroom as the guests milled around sipping drinks. Mattie heard her nanny’s footsteps as she climbed the stairs towards her.

“Matilda, it’s time for bed!” she called. Mattie moved her gaze unwillingly from the crowd below her to her caretaker’s large, red-faced figure. Her blonde hair was pulled back into a tight bun. Mattie did not want to go to bed but rose silently, without protest. A large, warm hand clasped around her thin arm and pulled her away from the enthralling scene, so close, yet out of her reach.

Mattie waited until she had been tucked in to ask a question.

“Nanny, will you read to me, like grandfather used to?” she said quietly. Her eyes were hopeful as she looked up at her nanny.

“No, Dear, they need me in the kitchen. You know I don’t have time when your grandfather has guests.”

Mattie turned onto her side, ready for sleep. Her eyes settled on a spot on the floor as her nanny fiddled with the oil lamp. There was a single hair lying on the floorboards between the old armchair and the wardrobe. It was long, thick and undeniably black. The light disappeared suddenly as her nanny extinguished the flame in her lamp. She walked out of the room and shut the door behind her. Only a crack of light remained under the door.

Mattie was almost asleep when she heard a low moan. She opened her eyes, but closed them again, it was probably just Susan. She soon heard another noise, a voice the texture of fine gravel.

“Join us,” it groaned. It was quiet at first, and Mattie still didn’t believe it, but it grew louder as it was repeated, again and again. “Join us, join us, join us,” Mattie sat up in bed, staring at the wardrobe. It was the only logical place where someone could be hiding, waiting to scare her. But who would want to scare her? She had no young friends. All of a sudden, the voices stopped.

Mattie had never been scared of the dark, or the mysteries that darkness held, but she was scared now. She reached for the matches kept on the table to the side of her bed and lit the oil lamp. She was shaking with fear as she swung her legs out of bed, but she wouldn’t hide. This was the most exciting thing that had happened to her in a long time. Mattie walked across her room and climbed into the armchair. It smelled of her grandfather and reminded her of a time when adventure could be found between the pages of a book.

Mattie sat on her armchair, waiting anxiously for the noises to return, but it was long past her bed time and the old chair was comfortable and cozy, so she began to fall asleep. She was awoken once more by a slow creaking and sat up quickly, staring towards the door. It was shut. She then turned her head gradually towards the wardrobe. One of the doors was ajar. Mattie’s breathing became rapid but she did not move from the chair. In the dim light of the lamp she was unable to see into the depths of her wardrobe. A scuttling sound caught her attention, and she moved as far backwards as she could, sinking into the armchair like a turtle into its shell.

At first, all she could see was a furry point, like the leg of a mammalian crab, extending from the darkness into the light. The wardrobe door creaked further forwards and Mattie stared in astonishment as another foot-less leg moved into the light. Then came that scraping voice again.

“Join us, join us, JOIN US!” it screeched, increasing its intensity with every ragged word. The doors of the wardrobe burst open and a creature much bigger than Mattie appeared. Its legs pierced into the wooden floor and Mattie tried not to scream. Its head was elongated in a sharp snout and covered in hair. Long, dark and as thick as spaghetti. Her eyes opened wide as it stood there on its many pointed legs, unmoving. The creature did not appear to have eyes, a nose or a mouth. It was simply a pointed, hairy body on pointed, furry legs. But what intrigued Mattie the most was not its lack of features, but rather its lack of an ending. She could only assume that its body ended where the wardrobe did, but it was impossible to know for certain.

Mattie sat and stared at it for minutes. It did nothing. There was no noise, and she was too scared to break the silence. Slowly, she reached towards it with her small arm. Little by little, her fingers moved closer to the drooping, mahogany strands of hair until she could gently stroke the creature. It was warm and surprisingly soft for a monster. The creature began to move, and Mattie saw that an opening had appeared on its snout. This cavity grew and opened, revealing endless rows of long, sharp teeth.

Mattie shrunk back into her chair. In the chasm of its mouth, the face of a child formed. Then another, and another. This creature was full of children! But they were alive and their eyes were bright — too bright. Their eyes were shining like candles but without colour — like the sun through a cloud.

The children opened their mouths.

“Join us,” they said in unison. The child who was nearest to Mattie smiled upon her sweetly and gestured its slender arm towards her. Mattie reached out and took the child’s hand.