The Monster Known as My Uncle | Teen Ink

The Monster Known as My Uncle

October 28, 2014
By Creative-Writer BRONZE, Mesa, Arizona
Creative-Writer BRONZE, Mesa, Arizona
4 articles 0 photos 37 comments

Favorite Quote:
We know what we are, but know not what we may be. -William Shakespeare

I cursed at my uncle who seemed wise beyond his years.  "How dare you threaten me!" I yelled at him.  He let out a smile.  I hated my uncle. Joe was his name.  "Veronica," He began "Have you ever read The Epic of Anzu?  Tablet 2 is the one that grabbed my attention." I looked at him puzzled.  I remember my history teacher saying something about it, but other than that I was clueless to what the old fart in front of me was talking about.  I shook my head, refusing to let my anger go.  He just threatened he would turn me into clay.  It is impossible, but that's not the point.  He THREATENED me.  I was hoping that by the time I left, I would be able to used him as an example of how well my Krav Maga classes were going.  The sparkle in his eye hinted to me to run away, But why?  I was getting ready to kick some ass, why did I want to leave now?  That was where my thoughts were wrong. 
Maybe I could fit in a few punches, but they didn't mean anything to him.  Instead he took the hits with pleasure, he winced at the pain, but came closer to me.  I tried backing up, I even tried to hit his throat, but I missed terribly.   As he grabbed my arms, and made me helpless, I screamed into the cold empty air.  I didn't even care about my surroundings before.  I didn't pay attention to where Joe had taken me.  I defiantly did now.  There was a medal pole in the dead center of the never ending open fields.  That was it, besides a large bag Joe had carried with him. He laughed at me, and everything went black as the pain from his hit carried to my nerves.

When I woke up, we were in the same place as before.  Only now, I was tied to the damn pole.   What did he think I was, his stripper or something?  Anger rushed through my blood once more, and I began trying to pull the object that bound my hands together apart.  It was then that I realized how tight they were.  I could feel what I guessed to be a thin but strong rope sink into my skin.  The pain was bearable to a point. I stopped moving my wrists, which caused me to feel as the rich red blood dripped from my tar stained fingertips.  Joe had a book in his hands, and was pacing to and fro. 
After a minute or so he realized I was awake again. His chuckle filled the silence, and sliced through my ear drums.  I glared at him.  "Who the hell do you think you are?" I asked him in a yell.  He looked at me changing his expression to the most kind look he could pull off.  "Who, Me?" he asked innocently.  "I think I am a man by the name of Joe Williams who is getting ready to be shown a lot of respect."  He began pacing again, "But don't worry" He said "I know giving me respect sounds excruciating, I will make sure you don't have to".   I shook my head to him, and began laughing.  "And you think anyone would give you even a pinch of respect?"
He nodded his head with a thoughtful look on his face, but was silent for a while.  "Oh" he said killing the peaceful silence "And Tablet 2 of The Epic of Anzu Is what is in my hand right now."  He flipped a few pages.  "I will even be nice enough to read it to you, beans you don't have an inkling of what it is."  He chuckled again.  "I'm fine thanks" I snapped at him.  "Oh No! I insist.  It may even strike your interest" He said.  He didn't give me a chance to say anymore, he began reading the book out loud.  It was in a different language, I couldn't understand what it meant. 
The first half of what he said, I just ignored.  But He stopped and looked at me.  "do you know what that says in English?" he asked. I was still irritated, and getting more and more by the second.  "What?" I snapped sarcastically.  "[ittabši q]ib?ssu k?ma ilim Durank[i] [iqb?-ma ša irrar]u iwwi ?i??iš [qib?ti]šsu il? usa??i? [ipsil u]r?am l? al?kam iqb[i]" He said.  My mind leaked of any response of what to say.  "No?" he asked.  "Well, In English it says 'His utterance has become like that of the god, of Duranki. No sooner has he spoken, than whoever he curses immediately turns to clay. At his utterance he makes the gods tremble. He turned away, said not to take the road'.  Now Veronica, do you know what it is saying?" 
I rolled my eyes and said No.  He once again nodded his head.  Well here, let me show you.  He neatly set the book on the ground and walked to me with evil in his eyes.  "I, God, Damn you!" he said sternly and quit loud.  It was then I realized what his threat had meant earlier.  It wasn't impossible, not even close. I could feel as my hands lost their feeling, and then my feet.  I looked down at my toes, and noticed the red-orange color of clay.  I watched as the deadly clay crawled up my body.  The last thing I saw was my Uncle Joe's face with a wicked smile before everything went that life-threatening red-orange color of clay.

The author's comments:

There really is a Tablet 2 called The Epic of Anzu, and It really says what I stated in my story.  When we were learning about it in history, I found it interesting, and the thought of my story came to life. I hope you like it.


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