Mischievous Belonging
It was a muggy, foggy day in Los Angeles that day--everything seemed to stick together in one big, wet soggy mass. A young girl walked up to the greyhound bus station.
"Where ya goin?" a chubby, cranky, middle aged woman asked.
"Moritson," she replied quietly, if not sadly. She loved the anonimity of hte big city--it was, in her opinion, bliss compared to the small town where she was from. An annoyed voice snapped her back into reality.
"There ain't any stops in Moritson. You gotta walk, honey."
"That's quite alright," she replied, cooly. With that, she grabbed her ticket and suitcase, and proceeded to board the bus.
Two hours later, the bus let her--and her alone--out at the small town of Taylor. It was a good four-mile walk to Moritson, and another half-mile to her family's home. AS she walked, her mind started to wander, and she unconciously reached into her pocket drawing out a small dagger. Her brother had given it to her. She toyed with it in her hands, feeling its smooth wooden handle; the strong steel blade attached to it. Her brother... He was the whole reason she left Moritson in the first place. Moritson was a small town, where everyone knew--or thought they knew--everything about everyone else. Her family never fit in, especially her and her brother. Around the time she left, some strange things started to happen in the town, and, naturally her and her brother were blamed. Her brother, fearing for her safety, sent her to the city and armed her with the dagger. Her brother, however, refused to come.
A car whizzing bye on the dirt road brought her back to reality. Aloud she said, "That was years ago! I have nothing to worry about now! Still, I wonder why my brother sent for me..." THe slow steady rhythm of walking pulled her back into the world of daydreaming.
"Sarah! Sarah! SARAH!!!" She lifted hear head, shocked to see her brother riding what appeared to be her horse, but it didn't look like her horse--it was too, well, fatto be her horse! As she stared at the horse, she remembered just why she came back--she missed her horse terribly She loved feeding it and riding it and--"SARAH!!! Geez, how many times do I have to call your name? Are you gonna get on or not?!?!?" She laughed and graciously accepted the ride.
While the horse walked towards their farm, her brother explained what happened while she was gone. "they never did actually catch the thief, but I knew who it was. They tried to frame you--leaving things of yours by the scene, you know, stupid stuff like that. The petty thefts stopped when you left, too."
"Did you ever confront them?"
"No, I wanted to do that today when you were here. Also, I have another suprise for you..."
"Really?!? What?!?" Her brown eyes that before only seemed to show saddness, perked up.
"Misty's pregnant!"
"Really?!? I thought she looked fat!" Her brother laughed. "Here we are!" He said as he stopped the horse at the house of hte alledged framer. He rang the doorbell. A young man, about twenty, answered.
"Why did you frame my sister?!?" He sterly said.
Just that minute, a tiny head poked out of the girl's bookbag, jumped to the ground, went in the house, and dragged a tiny yellow quilt after it. Sarah laughed. "That explains everything!" she exclaimed. "Birchy here would steal my stuff, deposit it a the scene of the crime, and then steal something!" She let out a good hearty laugh. "All because he wanted to go to Los Angeles!" She scratched her mischievous cat behind the ears and thought, I'm finally home.
Back to the Stories
Back Home