Here be a random short story thingy to keep you occupied until Kipin gets around to writing the next part of Savvy (might be a while, unfortunately... busy busy, you know.) It's a TRUE story that happened at my cousin's house. Kipin actually brought herself to write something besides fantasy or science fiction for once! *grins madly* Happy day. Enjoy the randomness!
Seek
Voices. Drawing nearer. Nearer. And a light – no, two lights, growing brighter. A soft, red glow. Any second now, they will find me, and all will be lost.
I press my cheek to the dank-smelling tiles. I don’t know what color they are. When I entered this room, the lights were off, the blackness complete. It is hot in here. Too hot. I shall be roasted alive. Something is digging into my shoulder, something hard, rounded, protruding from the wall. Something else brushes my legs, rough and bristly. I worry that the narrow ledge I am standing on will not hold my weight, although I don’t weigh that much. I shuffle my cramped feet a bit, trying not to slip, and wrap my wrist around… something, keeping the trunk of my body close to the wall for balance. All too soon, however, my leg muscles are quivering with strain. My ring clinks against the tile, then my watch. My jeans rustle as I bend my knees to relieve the pressure.
The glass door to my left glows red. They have arrived. I still my breathing, listening to their conversation.
“Check the closet. Is she in there?”
“Probably not. That’s where she was last time. But I’ll look anyway… Nope, not in there.”
“She’s not in the bathtub, or behind the toilet, or in the sink cabinet, not that there’s room under there. Check the shower, she might be in there.”
The door is jerked open, and a hand appears, holding a lantern high. I keep very still. I hold my breath.
“Nope. Not in there,” says the voice, and withdraws the hand, and the light.
I wait for the footsteps and voices to recede, then I breathe a sigh of relief. They’ll probably be back, but I can relax for now, as I hear their voices getting farther and farther away.
My ankles itch. Can’t imagine why; perhaps my hiding place is actually a nest of mosquitoes that are now attacking my ankles.
Shouting from outside. My compatriot has been found, and most likely turned against me. I squirm deeper into the stifling shadows, wishing for a breath of cool air. Now there are three voices instead of two, coming towards me again. Surely, this time, I will be discovered. My partner in crime knows I came this way – not which room, but this end of the hall, definitely. I hear them right outside the glass door: “Did you look in the closet?”
“Yeah, we looked, but we might have missed her. Better check again.” Scuffling noises as the three of them search the closet. “Nope. She’s smarter than that, hiding in the same place twice. Ooh – maybe she flushed herself down the toilet!”
“Nooo!” squeal the others delightedly. “That’s gross!” Without warning, the glass door swings open again, and the lantern is held aloft by my traitorous partner.
“Already looked in there,” says one of the voices, a hand reaching in to draw back the arm holding the lantern. “Let’s go over the bedroom again. She might be under the bed…” The voices fade a second time, and the bathroom door closes behind them, throwing the room into total blackness.
Again I blow out a sigh. This is getting tedious – not to mention stressful. A glance to the left by the searchers would have revealed me pressed into the corner by the dim lantern-light. Lucky for me they are so careless. I can still faintly hear them bumbling around in the next room, knocking things over and barking their shins, no doubt, on the furniture in the semidarkness.
“We give up!” shouts one, muffled through the closed door. “Come out, come out!”
“Ollie-ollie-auction-free,” calls another, farther away than the first. They must be leaving the bedroom and going out into the hallway. Not wanting to reveal my excellent hiding-place, I wait, heart in my mouth, until I can barely hear them, then carefully step down to the damp floor, stumbling a bit on tired legs, then quietly push open the glass door. The hem of my jeans are slightly soggy against my burning ankles as I step over the threshold of the shower stall, and I stand still a moment, breathing deeply but softly and brushing a few strands of tawny sweat-dampened hair off my forehead. Then I grasp the doorknob and slowly open the bathroom door, hanging on to mask the click, and creep out into the bedroom. A little light leaks in at the window from the streetlamps outside, illuminating a king-sized bed, rocking chair, chest of drawers… and there, the doorway. A bit of luck: the door is open. Allowing myself a private grin, I prowl through the doorway, into the hall, on the balls of my bare feet, treading noiselessly on the soft carpeting.
My nemeses are gathered at the far end of the passage, whispering conspiratorially. Straightening up, I approach them candidly and announce, “I’m right here.”
“KIP!” yelp my two cousins, whirling to face me. My turncoat brother spins as well. All three of them shout in unison, “Where WERE you?”
“Nope. Not telling,” I say with a grin. “Not if I want to use that spot again. It’s practically the only good spot in your house.”
“Nuh-uh, mine was good,” my youngest cousin objects. “You guys couldn’t find me, and I DID tell you where I was – sitting on that blue suitcase in the bedroom closet.”
“Yeah!” says the older of my cousins. She’s a few years younger than I am. “I told my hiding spot, too, so spill.”
My little brother pipes up in his shrill voice, “Yeah, Kip, spill!”
“Oh, fine,” I grumble good-naturedly, “Since I won the game anyway: I was in your parents’ shower.”
“But we looked in there!” they cry, disbelieving. “Like, twice!”
“I know,” I reply smugly, crossing my arms. “I was standing on that ledge in the very back. If you guys would have looked around the corner to your left, you would have seen me.”
“But, dude, we had the lantern in there and EVERYTHING,” whines my younger cousin incredulously. “How did we MISS you? That shower is TINY!”
I nudge him affectionately. “I guess you didn’t really look.”
Voices. Drawing nearer. Nearer. And a light – no, two lights, growing brighter. A soft, red glow. Any second now, they will find me, and all will be lost.
I press my cheek to the dank-smelling tiles. I don’t know what color they are. When I entered this room, the lights were off, the blackness complete. It is hot in here. Too hot. I shall be roasted alive. Something is digging into my shoulder, something hard, rounded, protruding from the wall. Something else brushes my legs, rough and bristly. I worry that the narrow ledge I am standing on will not hold my weight, although I don’t weigh that much. I shuffle my cramped feet a bit, trying not to slip, and wrap my wrist around… something, keeping the trunk of my body close to the wall for balance. All too soon, however, my leg muscles are quivering with strain. My ring clinks against the tile, then my watch. My jeans rustle as I bend my knees to relieve the pressure.
The glass door to my left glows red. They have arrived. I still my breathing, listening to their conversation.
“Check the closet. Is she in there?”
“Probably not. That’s where she was last time. But I’ll look anyway… Nope, not in there.”
“She’s not in the bathtub, or behind the toilet, or in the sink cabinet, not that there’s room under there. Check the shower, she might be in there.”
The door is jerked open, and a hand appears, holding a lantern high. I keep very still. I hold my breath.
“Nope. Not in there,” says the voice, and withdraws the hand, and the light.
I wait for the footsteps and voices to recede, then I breathe a sigh of relief. They’ll probably be back, but I can relax for now, as I hear their voices getting farther and farther away.
My ankles itch. Can’t imagine why; perhaps my hiding place is actually a nest of mosquitoes that are now attacking my ankles.
Shouting from outside. My compatriot has been found, and most likely turned against me. I squirm deeper into the stifling shadows, wishing for a breath of cool air. Now there are three voices instead of two, coming towards me again. Surely, this time, I will be discovered. My partner in crime knows I came this way – not which room, but this end of the hall, definitely. I hear them right outside the glass door: “Did you look in the closet?”
“Yeah, we looked, but we might have missed her. Better check again.” Scuffling noises as the three of them search the closet. “Nope. She’s smarter than that, hiding in the same place twice. Ooh – maybe she flushed herself down the toilet!”
“Nooo!” squeal the others delightedly. “That’s gross!” Without warning, the glass door swings open again, and the lantern is held aloft by my traitorous partner.
“Already looked in there,” says one of the voices, a hand reaching in to draw back the arm holding the lantern. “Let’s go over the bedroom again. She might be under the bed…” The voices fade a second time, and the bathroom door closes behind them, throwing the room into total blackness.
Again I blow out a sigh. This is getting tedious – not to mention stressful. A glance to the left by the searchers would have revealed me pressed into the corner by the dim lantern-light. Lucky for me they are so careless. I can still faintly hear them bumbling around in the next room, knocking things over and barking their shins, no doubt, on the furniture in the semidarkness.
“We give up!” shouts one, muffled through the closed door. “Come out, come out!”
“Ollie-ollie-auction-free,” calls another, farther away than the first. They must be leaving the bedroom and going out into the hallway. Not wanting to reveal my excellent hiding-place, I wait, heart in my mouth, until I can barely hear them, then carefully step down to the damp floor, stumbling a bit on tired legs, then quietly push open the glass door. The hem of my jeans are slightly soggy against my burning ankles as I step over the threshold of the shower stall, and I stand still a moment, breathing deeply but softly and brushing a few strands of tawny sweat-dampened hair off my forehead. Then I grasp the doorknob and slowly open the bathroom door, hanging on to mask the click, and creep out into the bedroom. A little light leaks in at the window from the streetlamps outside, illuminating a king-sized bed, rocking chair, chest of drawers… and there, the doorway. A bit of luck: the door is open. Allowing myself a private grin, I prowl through the doorway, into the hall, on the balls of my bare feet, treading noiselessly on the soft carpeting.
My nemeses are gathered at the far end of the passage, whispering conspiratorially. Straightening up, I approach them candidly and announce, “I’m right here.”
“KIP!” yelp my two cousins, whirling to face me. My turncoat brother spins as well. All three of them shout in unison, “Where WERE you?”
“Nope. Not telling,” I say with a grin. “Not if I want to use that spot again. It’s practically the only good spot in your house.”
“Nuh-uh, mine was good,” my youngest cousin objects. “You guys couldn’t find me, and I DID tell you where I was – sitting on that blue suitcase in the bedroom closet.”
“Yeah!” says the older of my cousins. She’s a few years younger than I am. “I told my hiding spot, too, so spill.”
My little brother pipes up in his shrill voice, “Yeah, Kip, spill!”
“Oh, fine,” I grumble good-naturedly, “Since I won the game anyway: I was in your parents’ shower.”
“But we looked in there!” they cry, disbelieving. “Like, twice!”
“I know,” I reply smugly, crossing my arms. “I was standing on that ledge in the very back. If you guys would have looked around the corner to your left, you would have seen me.”
“But, dude, we had the lantern in there and EVERYTHING,” whines my younger cousin incredulously. “How did we MISS you? That shower is TINY!”
I nudge him affectionately. “I guess you didn’t really look.”
There you goes. Happy Late and Belated Hannuchris!
Commander Kip the Happy because she got the rest of the Twilight books for Christmas!
Normal is overrated!
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