Burning Suns

April 4, 2017
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The itsy-bitsy spider climbed up the water spout.


My stomach seems bent on losing my lunch, and I hurl all over Mom’s expensive new rug.  The pattering of thousands of little legs echoes through the room, quicker than my pounding heart.  Oh, no, they must’ve gotten in the vents.
I struggle to my feet, my trembling muscles resisting my every move.  I glance around and pick up my little brother’s baseball bat, something to lean against.  My eyes tear up as I wonder what’s become of them, my mom and brother.  I can’t think about them, not now.  I let out a quiet sniff and blink my tears away, beginning to shuffle towards the cellar door in the kitchen.
The noise grows louder the closer I get, and I’m half tempted to cower under a blanket.  But a small part of me knows I can’t do that, knows that my best bet is to lock myself in the cellar and try to wait them out.  I open the cellar door, and realize that I should get some food and water.  Who knows how long I’ll be down there.


Down came the rain and washed the spider out.


I half-heartedly toss a couple cans of soup back in the cellar, and pick up a few water bottles to fill up.  When I get to the sink, I notice that the noise is louder than ever.  I shudder and open the bottles’ lids, trying to do this as quickly as possible. 
I waste no time in turning on the sink, but the water refuses to come out.
“C’mon, c’mon,” I breathe, “hurry up you stupid sink!”
Finally, the water begins to run, dribbling a brown, dirty mess into the bottle.  I look inside, only to find hundreds of tiny brown spiders swimming.  With a shriek, I slam the bottle on the ground, rushing to the cellar.  The noise is clearer than ever by now, and I can hear the plopping of disgusting little bodies as they’re dumped into the sink.
Halfway to the cellar, my feet give out from underneath me and I land on the floor with a crack.  I try to get back up, but my leg is burning, and I suspect it’s broken.  Adrenaline floods me, and I begin crawling towards the cellar.


Out came the sun and dried up all the rain.


I hear a fizzling pop, and the lights go out.  Thousands of tiny little bodies press down on me, preventing me from moving.  Four pairs of legs thump on the floor in front of me, so loud I’m almost glad I can’t see what must be at least 25 pounds of terror. 
The giant spider leans closer to my face, and I feel it’s bristly furs against brush against me.  I watch it’s eyes, fiery orange like two burning suns, come closer and closer to me until they’re so close I have to go cross eyed to stare. 
The first of the spiders begin to bite me, igniting a burning pain down my back.  With one last glance at the suns, I fall into oblivion.


And the itsy-bitsy spider climbed up the spout again.

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trixy said...
Apr. 9 at 12:13 pm
Amazing story. Action packed and great vocabulary.
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