I wrote this for a writing class I took in 2009. I loosely based it on a story my grandma loves to tell about her youth. She has lived on the same street all of her life (74 years) and when she tells me stories, I can't help but listen. I thought this time of year was a great time to share this with the masses. Hope you enjoy! (I apologize for the formatting... I copied direct from WORD)
“If you’re not in before dark Raw Head and Bloody Bones will get you!” my mother yelled as the four of us ran toward the field where we always played. I stopped dead in my tracks. Just the mere thought of this monster brought the cold sweat of fear to my body. In my head I pictured him as a giant skinless creature with blood dripping from every limb. He was said to carry children away to his home and eat them with his foot- long green teeth, bones and all. I glanced over to my left; there was his home. The tree on the corner that looked as though it had been there since God was a boy. Its branches reached into the sky like black fingers reaching for the light of the sun. The bark was dark and most of the leaves were dead. No one went near it, even in the day time. I peered into the sky, placing my hand on my forehead to shield my eyes; the sun was still high in the sky bright and happy, no moon in sight. There was still plenty of time to play. I slipped my shoes off and began running to catch up to my brothers and sister, my feet slapping the dirt road hard as I ran.
“Hey!
Wait for me!” I called, clutching my shoes. I was the baby of the family. My
two brothers were racing each other to see who could get there fastest; I knew
they wouldn’t wait. A few feet ahead I could see my sister had stopped to wait
for me. She was always the one who waited; she never left me behind. I caught
up with her, and she scolded me for having my shoes off.
“Put
your shoes back on! You don’t want that to get dirt in it!” she said pointing
to the bandage wrapped around my foot. A few days before I had been playing in
the barn with a pitchfork and had jabbed the tool through my foot, but it
didn’t hurt it just bled a lot.
“Oh,
you’re such a worry-wart,” I said.
“C’mon,
hurry up! The boys will be heading back home before we even get down there,” my
sister said hurriedly. I steadied myself on her shoulder and put my shoes on
one by one. They were my sister’s old shoes; they were a bit too big but made
no difference to me. As long as I wasn’t wearing my church shoes to play in I
wouldn’t get into trouble.
We
made it down to the field; all the neighborhood kids were there playing
already. The boys were starting to pick teams for baseball and the girls were
gathered under a tree braiding each other’s hair and some were playing jacks. I
sighed. I certainly did not want my hair braided; jacks is a stupid game, and I
knew the boys would never pick me to play ball because after all, I was just a
little girl. My sister ran off to play with the girls, and I was left standing
alone. I decided to take my chances with the boys, so I ran to the baseball
diamond.
“Hey
Willard, can I play?” I asked my brother. His hair was the color of cotton and
his skin was tan like leather. He was already on 1st base standing,
ready to run.
“No!
We’ve already picked teams, and besides, you’re too little and you’re a girl! Go find Rosie and play dolls or something!” he
yelled back at me as a pop fly ball went soaring into the air. I kicked at the
grass underneath my feet; my shoe came flying off and came down and smacked me
in the forehead. I took off my other shoe and began carrying them towards the
creek. I’d just find my own fun.
I
spent the rest of the day down by the creek catching crawdads and frogs and
getting awfully muddy. I had just bent down to wipe the mud from my bandaged
foot when I realized, I couldn’t hear the rest of the children laughing and
yelling any more. I looked up and very little sunlight was peeking down through
the tree branches. I found my shoes, and made my way out of the woods. There
were no boys at the ball diamond. I ran back over the hill and down by the
shade tree. There were no girls braiding hair and playing jacks.
“Oh
no,” I said aloud as I looked up into the darkening sky. The sun was going down
and home seemed so far from here now. I threw on my shoes on, and began to run;
visions of Raw Head and Bloody Bones propelled me forward, faster than I could
ever remember running. All I could picture was the monster swooping down out of
that tree, his long bloody and boney arms reaching for me. The smell of his hot
breath breathing down the back of my neck as I raced and I could hear the
gnashing of his teeth it sounded like nails dragging across a chalkboard.
Finally I came to it, the tree, and his
home. I stopped paralyzed with fear.
The
sky was darker now; I could see the moon rising to take its place for the
night. I tried to run but I couldn’t; I stood there frozen staring at this tree
almost waiting for Raw Head and Bloody Bones to get me. Hot tears began to pour
down my face; this would be the last of me. I’d only got to live eight years
and the last thing I did on this Earth would be skipping rocks with a frog in a
creek. Suddenly, I thought I heard the sound of laughter high pitched and
maniacal coming from the tree. My body finally caught up with my brain and I
began to sprint, my long legs carrying me as quick as I could go. Again, I felt
his breath and smelled the sulfur from his belly and I heard the teeth chattering,
my muscles burned and begged me to stop running but I couldn’t. I refused to be
eaten.
I
ran all the way home up the stairs of the back porch and ran in the door of the
kitchen to find my family all at the dinner table bowing their heads to say
grace. The look my father gave me was enough to make want to run back towards
that monster. I could’ve sworn I caught my mother smiling from the corner of
her mouth. She saw the look of fear on my face and that night, that fear was my
only punishment.
Raw
Head and Bloody Bones haunted me all the way into adulthood. Even after I had
my son some 20 years later, I could not walk past that tree without my knees
buckling and my heart sinking into my belly. The street looks
much different now. Telephone poles and cars now line the narrow street. Rather
than gardens and fields with horses, there is a park and a public pool and each
lot has a small one story home. It took a village to raise your family then,
but it only took one monster to change my life.
