#MiracleChallenge : Week – 7
Challenge No : 4
Write a Story/ Poem using Prompt Theme – A VISITOR
Celestine was home alone, and she found it soothing. She filled a cup with coffee and made herself cosy, sitting sideways and lifting her legs over the curved arm of the sofa. She took a sip from the little cup and felt a cloud of peace envelop her. The tapping of the rain was the only sound that could be heard. This was exactly what she needed.
Suddenly, the door rang. It sounded like a scream, too loud in the soft quiet of the room.
Who could it be? Celestine’s husband was on a meeting and her sons had just recently left the house. There was no way they could be back so soon.
Celestine approached the door with caution. She didn’t know why, but she felt uneasy. Something wasn’t as it should be.
“Who is it?” she asked but no answer came.
Why did she give a day off to Bertha? Her kind servant would’ve made her less anxious, and she would be the one to open the door.
“Who is it?” Celestine asked again.
“Your old friend,” a male voice said, a voice she couldn’t quite place, but it evoked even more fear. Fear she couldn’t explain.
Celestine finally decided to open the door. She gasped. The first thing she saw were glowing, silver strands of hair. Though wet from the rain, they looked soft and beautiful. Celestine knew immediately who the man on her doorstep was, and she couldn’t believe it.
“You won’t invite me in?” the unexpected visitor said.
Celestine was too stupefied to do or say anything, and she didn’t stop the man when he walked through the door. He went straight to the living room and she, as if suddenly awakened, ran after him.
“Eric…” she spoke, his name the only word she could utter.
“My darling Celestine,” he faced her with a wide smile.
She could now see his face well, and she found it unchanged. How could that be? He looked just the same when she last saw him, and that was almost twenty years ago. She couldn’t find a single trace of aging. His face was the same as the day she put a bullet to his chest.
“How can this be?” she asked herself.
“You know I’m hard to kill,” he was still smiling.
“But you… You haven’t changed…”
“I come from where the magic is, dear Celestine. I told you so many times, magic exists and it is there for the taking, only if you dare to do it.”
“I don’t want to take part in anything like that!” fear was threatening to overcome her, but Celestine stood strong.
“I know that,” Eric’s smile became a smirk. “You’ve proven to be quite untrustworthy. I’m not here for you, anyway.”
“Then what do you want?”
“I want my son.”
Celestine’s mind immediately produced a picture of her older son and his silver hair, the same as Eric’s. The son who never acted like a part of the family, who always searched for something else, something different. The son in whose eyes gleamed a dark spark of magic.
“What are you talking about?” it was best to act stupid, she decided.
“I know he’s mine. And you and your husband know that as well.”
“He’s not yours!” Celestine cried out.
“Well, consider yourself warned. He will learn the truth and you can do nothing to prevent it.”
He smiled again, and this time his smile was eerie. Evil.
Celestine didn’t even realize he left her house. She stood, petrified, unable to accept what had just happened. They fought magic and now it came to fight them back.
Image courtesy of Pixabay.com