Bringing Back The Dead

Hi everyone,

I have given it much thought and have decided to post this Flash Fiction here on Steemit as opposed to trying to go mainstream. I have the distinct feeling that I might be able to have more people see it, read it & appreciate it here than elsewhere. Besides, I like my community and the Steemit family.

This story was created from a writing exercise on The Writer's Block in Discord. I'd like to thank @thewritersblock and those individuals who helped it become the best version.

(Name-dropping commence... I apologize if I miss anyone that was integral to its development and polishing)

@rhondak
@nobyeni
@anikekirsten
@bex-dk
@thinknzombie
@tinypaleokitchen
@gmuxx
@negativer
@therosepatch
@thewritersblock

and, without further delay... the story.

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Sad Girl

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Bringing Back The Dead by... Jeremiah Whitehead

“I will bring him back, I swear.” Meresa pressed her lips together. Caws and shrieks bubbled up from the blackness of Screaming Gorge. She adjusted her harness and prepared to leap off the ledge.

“No--I don’t want to lose you too!” Her mother twisted the edge of her blouse into a knot.

Meresa loved antique maps but had given her last one to Jacob for his birthday. Now both were missing and his tracks led to that spot. Did he really think treasure was there?

“If he’s down there, I’ll find him!” Meresa looked back once more. Her mother was hunched over and shaking.

She bit her lip and ignored the cutting wind. Her stomach burned but she wouldn’t turn back. “Geronimo!”

Meresa kicked off. A gust of wind whistled past as she soared outward and down. The chasm blackened the deeper she dove, light from the midday sun unable to reach this far down. Am I Alice jumping down the Rabbit Hole? What will I find?

At that moment her feet hit the living room carpet. She sighed and rolled her eyes. Seventeen and jumping from the arm of the couch. Not much fun, but worth it if Jakey finally laughed again.

Meresa hollered into the kitchen. “Mom, can we shove some books under the legs to make these couches higher?” She looked over at her little brother and winked.

“No! I like the couches where they are.” Mom turned from the dishes and raised one eyebrow. “Besides, I always have to fix it.”

Meresa huffed. “You just don’t understand fun!” She pretended to pout and turned back to Jakey.

“Meresa. They gots me. They gonna eat me.” Jakey didn’t look at her. He looked around or through but never directly at her. Jakey, at sixteen, still spoke like a child.

Why do I always have to entertain the little spazz? I went through everything he did and more! I didn’t completely shut down.

Rage bubbled inside Meresa and she aimed it at Jakey. “Speak better! You’re not five!” Her cheeks flushed and she wanted to take the words back. Tears welled up and she trailed off. “Daddy died and...”

Her throat tightened. She clamped her mouth shut and took measured breaths. Everyone said the anger and pain would go away, but it was always there.

Mom turned away from the sink and saw Meresa with clenched jaw. It took her a moment to realize what was happening. “Meresa, what is it? M-Meresa?” Mom’s voice rose an octave, her words quavering. The plate slipped from her hand and crashed to the floor.

Mom, wearing Daddy’s Green Bay Packers sweater that he had worn all the time, pulled Meresa close. It still smelled like him. She, Mom and Jakey always told him to get rid of it before it fell apart. He had been wearing it that day.

That damned forest again. Early March rain, cold and unpleasant, soaked her skin. Birds squawked in protest beneath rainclouds. She ran ahead of the search group. Her throat was already raw from shouting for Daddy. He didn’t answer.

She stumbled and rolled against Daddy’s swollen, bloody leg. Her body shifted against ice-cold flesh. She looked up at him and her stomach dropped. His lips were a nasty shade of blue. The scream deep inside bubbled to the surface.

Movies had it all wrong. Real life was much more painful. His vacant blue eyes no longer twinkled. She clung to him and cried.

She rocked back and forth like her sanity depended on it, swallowed up by her memory. She knew it wasn’t real, but she couldn’t shake off the shadows of the past. Then she heard Mom’s voice.

“Come back to me Meresa.” Mom pleaded. “Here. Take your meds and don’t fight me this time.”

Mom’s fingers slid pills onto her tongue and she swallowed. The memory gradually dimmed and the living room came into focus. She was cradled in Mom’s arms.

Meresa couldn’t speak, so she just pointed at the sweater and whimpered. She wanted to be left alone and held tightly all at the same time. Mom stroked her hair and hummed her favorite childhood lullaby. Mom always felt safe.

“Don’t worry, Baby. Mama’s here.”

Darkness receded from Meresa’s vision. She scrubbed the tears away. She couldn’t stop these moments and hated when they overwhelmed her.

She rocked in Mom’s arms, Jakey hugging from the side and crying along. The clean scent of Dawn dish soap guided her back. She stopped rocking and wiped the tears away.

“How bad was it?” Meresa asked.

Mom sighed. “It was pretty bad this time.”

“Mom, I’m so sorry.” She lay her head back, trying to forget the claustrophobic feeling that clung to her. After a few moments she spoke again. “I think it’s time to go back to the doctor. I think Daddy would want it that way.”

Mom smiled and nodded. “I think that’s a good idea.”

Suddenly Jakey looked at me and laughed. “I remember his moustaches tickled my nose when he gave eskimo kisses.” His eyes were still unfocused, but they seemed to twinkle like they used to, just like Daddy’s.

Meresa looked at Mom and smiled. “I’ve missed this.”

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Thanks to everyone for reading! @OriginalWorks of @dbzfan4awhile