Scribblings by Sarah, Stories by Sarah

All Tied Up

Being tied to a chair was about as unpleasant as he imagined.

One minute he’d been out enjoying the sunshine, feeling the wind ruffle through the grass around him.

Next, he’d been snatched away, driven for miles and then forced into a cold, cold room…and a room filled with strangers nonetheless! And he hadn’t liked the look of them either – not one bit! They were an odd assortment. Tall, short, thin, chunky, groomed, scruffy…and all different colours too.

He had been wondering what on earth was going on when suddenly, the door to the room had opened and a friendly looking, round-faced woman entered. 

Surely she’s not my captor? he’d thought to himself. She seems too nice, too ‘homey’.

He had no sooner completed the thought than she’d grabbed him. Hard. 

Her chubby fingers had dug into his skin and without a word, she’d thrown him against a couple of the strangers.

She’d grabbed some rope, bound them together and tied them to the chair, plonking them unceremoniously next to others who were bound just like them.

Yep, he thought again, Being tied to a chair was about as unpleasant as he imagined. 

Now, just get on with the damn wedding will you?


Image courtesy of Pixabay

 By Sarah ©2017

Prompt: Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie, First Line Friday 09.06.17

Stories by Sarah

Taken away

The Stenham house was an ancient locked thing and nothing returned there except for crows. Their angst driven ‘caw, caw’ echoed against the stone walls. A reverberation in blue melody.

She dared to peer out from behind the heavily draped windows. She couldn’t be sure, but she thought she’d seen them again. Darting around the periphery of her property. Watching the fence line closely, she finally saw them. Fleeting, but most certainly there.

She was scared. What did they want? Why wouldn’t they leave her alone? Leave her family alone? Lucille became more and more agitated, as she considered her fears. She watched from the window for what seemed like hours. It wasn’t the first time they’d tried to get in. To destroy her happy home. A home she had built from the ground up with her husband Walter. A home she had raised three children in. A home she had kept as pristine and proud as the first day she’d opened its doors.

Suddenly from behind her, she heard a voice, “Lucille? It’s me.”

She turned, furious. How had they gotten in? How DARE they?

She launched herself at the intruder, prepared to fight. Arms flailing and abuse spewing forth from her mouth, she was stunned to discover there was nobody there.

Confused and shaken, she retreated to the lounge room. Pouring herself a scotch, she perched herself in the arm chair opposite her husband.

“I don’t know Walter,” she began, “between the strangers in the yard and ghosts in the house, I just don’t know if I can stay here anymore.”

Walter smiled and winked reassuringly. “My daring wife, I am quite sure it’s all in your head. Don’t be scared. I will always be here to protect you.”

Somewhat comforted, she returned his smiled and listened instead for the sounds of her children. Straining, her brow furrowed, she heard nothing at first. But soon, a symphony of animated high pitched chatter, laughter, the squeaking and squealing of toy cars and thumping footsteps up and down the hallway, lulled her anxious heart.

“LUCILLE!”

This time, the voice was more urgent.

She whipped her head around, again seeing no one.

“What do you want?” she demanded. “Why won’t you leave me alone?”

Distressed, she began rocking. It was all too much. The voices, the strangers, the ghosts. What was happening to her?

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“I’m afraid your grandmother’s dementia has become quite advanced,” the doctor explained kindly. “It’s likely she doesn’t recognise you or your family any longer. In fact, she may have retreated to the past, to a time when she was happy”.

“I don’t understand,” I protested. “She knew me yesterday.”

“That’s the strange thing about the mind”, the doctor continued, “we just have to keep sailing with it, wherever the person takes us. Even if it takes us out of that picture.”


By Sarah ©2017


Image credit: Tuomas_Lehtinen at FreeDigitalPhotos.net

Prompt: MLMM First Line Friday