Escapist
In my college creative writing class, every student was given the beginning sentence, "She sat on a suitcase waiting for a taxi." This was my version of what I wrote. A modern day version of Little Red Riding Hood.


She sat on a suitcase waiting for a taxi. But the taxi never showed and after hours of waiting and letting the autumn winds run across the field and collide onto her shoulders, it still didn't come. She was a small pillar, sitting cross legged against one side of Nowhere Road, in between a field of corn and a forest of somber shadows. From visits before, she knew these crops and remembered in the summer how her grandmother would take her to pick the fresh corn for supper and how sweet it tasted against her tongue, like some candied vegetable. Now, the left over corn was trying to hide behind the leaves, surrounded by stalks that started to turn crimson and curl down. They were crimson, just like the hood of her sweater she pulled over her head. The girl used it to guard from the wind that grew colder as the sun began to shrink down across the horizon.

Her jacket was like a blessing now, some security that wrapped around her form allowing her mind to drift off into memories, at least for a little while. She had been thirteen then and her grandmother presented the sweater in a box of shining paper. With anxious eyes and hands, she tore the gift box open and lifted the clothing out, feeling it against her cheeks. So soft and velvet, or as her grandmother described, like the down of angel feathers. And the young girl felt just like an angel, as she twirled about the living room under the dusty chandelier that was missing a few light bulbs. Even in that moment, those lights were still as elegant as ever. Five years later, her sweater still fit the same on her and she wished she could feel the comfort of it now, only the wind stung her cheeks again and she was lured out of her visions. She pulled the strings of the hood tighter and closed her eyes for a moment.

The situation wasn't quite like this either. She usually visited in the summer of course, but she had a chance to go earlier. Under unfortunate circumstances, of course. Her grandmother had fallen ill, and her mother busy at work, was unable to do anything about it. So, the girl was sent off with a package of some herbal medicine, green teas, and cakes that was now buried somewhere among the clothes in the suitcase. But she was happy to go until she realized the taxi wasn't coming.

She sat against a withered post that connected a fence of brown wire, encasing the perimeter of the fields. The final bus stop. Her grandmother had ordered a taxi the rest of the way and every visit, it went like this. It seemed so simple, but now she felt so lost and alone. She waited longer and began to sing with the music of the headphones that filtered into her ears. She let herself drift away again, the whisper of melodies floating on wind. In this quiet place, no one would hear her, and she wouldn't have to worry about her voice being awful for others to listen too. She didn't feel that embarrassment she felt on certain occasions when she was pulled by friends onto a stage, singing karaoke with 1980's music.

"You'll go on to become the queen of some kingdom... And I'll be that monster of myth off in some forest, mire or filth..."

Her eyes lifted open when she felt a slight kick against her boot and looked up. Some one had heard her singing, but he seemed to not care about the off key qualities her voice carried with it. Instead, gray eyes under a cerulean hooded sweater stared down at her waiting for an answer to a question she didn't have yet. She reached both her hands up to her headphones, pushing them off her ears.

"You should get going somewhere now," he said. She began to reply, but found herself focused on his hair. It seemed so golden and fine, like something only an expert weaver could thread together. In this country, most people didn't have such handsome hair, and he became a prince among this landscape. Only for a moment, she found her words abandoning her to answer the boy. Then it was too late, and she watched as he became a dark speck in the distance, following the road to whatever castle he came from.

Somewhere to go now, she thought letting the words roll around on her silent tongue. It was apparent by now, after waiting for so long, she could have easily walked to her grandmother's house and gotten there. And as she gave up on the taxi, she realized she would go somewhere now. She would hopefully reach the inviting fireplace of her grandmother's house before nightfall. All she had to do was follow the road around the bend she couldn't even see from her view point, and she would be safe.

She lifted her body from the post behind her back. Any minute longer leaning against it, and she would have found the pressure of her body breaking it. Moving was in her best interest now, and as her feet steadily walked down the road while her one arm lifted the suitcase, she dropped her headphones back on top of her ears.

"Now it's clear to me. We should have seen this coming back at the beginning..."

She sang on until she came just before the bend in the road and paused, letting her fingers press into the stop button. The music died down, and her eyes scanned across the road, towards the forest. The trees were split open here and became a canopy over a path away from Nowhere Road. If she followed it, perhaps she could cut across the bend and get to her destination sooner. She looked back to the sun for an answer, and saw it was barely even there to welcome her anymore. The orange in the sky started to fade into a deep lilac color and that was enough to convince her. Soon the stars would be out, shining brighter than the fireflies in July.

Walking off the road into the path, she pressed play again and picked up where she left off.

"We both chose to take this road to the same place but at a different pace..."

Heading deeper into the forest, she became aware that she was not the only one singing here and when the howling struck rang out across the trees, she shuddered, stopping the music to take caution of the beast's warning. She gazed around, not fully able to tell if it was the trees shaking from the wind or from the blood, curdling wail. Wolves. She was so close to her destination, even the animals that ruled this region couldn't stop her. After all, didn't the prince want her to go somewhere? She would at least carry out his wishes, and allowed herself to hold her chin high with the ounce of bravery she conjured up.

But most of her fear still consumed her now and she did not press play again. She didn't want to miss any sounds of padded footsteps creeping up behind her. Her being begged her to be aware, because at any moment, with each passing footstep she put on the ground, her stomach dropped into a pit of despair. Then again, she persuaded herself the feeling in her belly was hunger and nothing more. She wondered what the chances were of something horrible crashing out of the forest until it did.

She saw antlers first, large and ivory and thought for sure they were rushing at her. But the deer crashed, knees buckling underneath it, as it fell tumbling to the ground. She heard bones crack in his fragile legs as the buck gasped for breath, curled up on the ground like unfolded laundry. His whole body was a crumpled mess and she moved forward to let her hand touch the deer, to comfort him if he would allow. She could try that much at least. Try as she might, something else got to the deer first. His hunter. Like a flash of silver, the wolf leapt through the trees, its jaws snarling and snapping as it clamped onto the deer's neck. The girl put her hand over her mouth and ceased movement, because so far, the wolf was so hungry it didn't realize she was there. It seemed to intent on its meal to care for that matter. In and in the wolf's teeth sank with each back and fourth swing of its head. With powerful hind legs, it began to push itself out, dragging the victim along back into the shadows of the trees. She stepped around the blood, not even allowing the song to take her mind off this one.

The girl hadn't seen so much blood since her mother cut her finger once while make dinner. She was trying to chop an onion and the girl, disliking them so much, sat in the living room chair, fuming with thoughts of how much she wished the onion would just disappear. Like not so pleasant magic, her mother cut her finger deep enough that blood spilled onto the vegetable and they threw it out in the end. Now that she looked back, it was probably not that much blood at all, but when your eyes are so small, everything looks so much bigger in the world.

At this moment, her eyes saw a small, comforting light, glowing not very far off in the thickness of the forest. She knew that light. Her grandmother would keep it on, so the girl would always know where to go. She would know her way, if she got lost taking a walk. That beacon of hope would be her North Star home. She followed with her suitcase now dragging behind her. She would get these goodies to her grandmother.

The trees seemed to fall in towards the path more and she had to shuffle through their jagged points. She dodged around long branches, ducked under low twigs, and hopped over roots that tried to capture her feet. She swept away spider webs with her hand and didn't look back on the fate of the deer at all, until her attention was pulled by some one or something. She noticed a patch of razor sharp thorns snagging at the hem of her sweater and tugged it loose as fast as she could. She heard a faint rip in the fabric and let her lips drop into a frown, feeling herself loosing this battle with the forest minute after minute.

Freeing her sweater revealed something else and she let her fingers move around the thorns to pick up a piece of cerulean fabric. And right beneath it, hidden among the thorns, a trail scarlet liquid formed for her to follow. Thicker and thicker it became as she walked along the side of the thorn brush until it ended where she soon found the prince's head. So pale and cold he looked, his body still wrapped in the blanket of thorns. His blonde hair was now matted with blood and those gray eyes had been scarred from the fall where the thorns scratched them out with no apologies. But he wouldn't need them to see any longer, because he couldn't. A tear curled around her cheek and she looked for a stick, something to push the thorns away. At least maybe she could free him from his cage, and as she wrenched a branch off a tree, she began to long so much more for the star that pointed home.

The thorns unfolded like a curtain and inside them, his stomach had been ripped to pieces by teeth. She had seen those jaws at work before and without a doubt, she knew the entrails spilled around him was the work of another wolf. Perhaps one of the same pack. There was nothing she could do for now until she got some help and that sinking feeling came quickly back to her stomach, as if some one had kicked her hard. She leaned over for a moment, holding her stomach and releasing her hand on the suitcase. What ever it was she drank and ate many hours before came rushing up and fell down onto the earth. She waited for a moment and breathed in, trying to get the taste of something like rotten oranges out of her mouth and then gathered her suitcase dragging it back towards the light that grew brighter and brighter until she was home at last.

The door was unlocked, which was nothing out of the ordinary and she called out to her grandmother. It would be alright, she told herself, although she knew the prince would not be seeing his castle anytime soon. She would let it pass her for now and she pressed play once more to finish the song.

"And I'll say, I'm the fabled one that let you down... The greatest escapist the world has even known..."

Yes, she did escape from all those wolves, she thought humming along with the instruments as she unpacked the basket of goods from within her suitcase and set it on the table. The song's whole three and a half minutes seemed like the longest she had ever known in her life. But it was over and she could start a new story all over again. She set her headphones inside her suitcase and closed it shut like she would protect a treasure chest full of her dearest possessions. Just like she wanted, the fireplace was waiting for her, warm and comforting as she had seen it in her mind and she later would sit by it for a while, after she saw her grandmother foremost.

Both of her hands ran along the walls as she made her way to her grandmother's room, letting one hand pull away from the familiar wall paper as her knuckles tapped, knocking against the door. Grandmother mumbled from inside the room, the sound a person makes from waking up after a long time or being extremely exhausted once a tiresome event has passed. The girl let herself in, pausing before the end of the bed, watching the shadows that formed on the covers from the two candles that flickered on the small dresser at the side. The blankets were wrapped around a mass of body, that looked much larger than what she remembered her grandmother's size. At least her grandmother still had an appetite, the girl thought.

She stepped closer, "What good eating you've done since I've been away."

There was a quick jerk of movement underneath the blankets. The girl arched an eyebrow, curious if the sickness her grandmother carried made her convulse like this. But stepped closer again, anxious to show her grandmother the crimson hood she loved so much as well once again.

"Look how sick you've become, but I'm here to take care of you."

There was another moan, a soft whimper, and her grandmother's hand fell from under the blankets, limp at the side of her bed. Blood slowly trickled across the old fingertips that used to stroke the girl's brow whenever she was visiting and came down with the flu herself. The girl hoped she could do the same in return for her grandmother, and stepper ever so closer.

"Grandmother... how weak you are now."

With that, the girl's voice finally heard, the blankets moved fast and fell away as the form underneath them twisted to get up. The girl fell back onto the floor and clear in her sight, hovering over the edge of the bed now was the amber eyes of an onyx wolf staring down at her. It gnashed teeth together, breathing viscously as if it were a dragon about to send a column of flame at her. The wolf stood for a moment testing the girl, blood dripping down its powerful jaws, as it guarded the grandmother. Its tiger-like paws moved and with one strong leap it fell, ripping the crimson hood and anything inside of it to shreds.