The Muse

Eda couldn't exactly remember why but when she had that bloody baby in her arms, she was 10 again... in that one afternoon on the garden hammock. At that time, the soles of her feet were tickled by the grass' kiss while the soft hum of the wind gently swayed her to sleep.

Sounds faded into the background until it became unheard as her tired eyes transfixed at the weight she held, a can of sardines felt heavier. A faded blue towelette bundled the tiny, slimy creature. She peered closer into the  folds, its face was still all wrinkles and pudgy with faint smears of red. Small slits appeared were the eyes should be.

Brown? gray? or maybe blue?

Her thoughts were halted by an abrupt sound invading her ears. A loud explosion was nearby, the warmth and debris made itself known on her backside. Soon, the little one started tell-tale sighs of an impending wail. She  sprung into action, ignoring the phantom needles of her weakened knees and fled away from the onslaught of more crashing sounds.

--

Before reaching the clearing, she spotted the peak of a sturdy-looking roof with promising walls just when her feet started to feel like anvils beneath her. The cadence of her footfalls came slowly now, as she tried not to make the red leaves crunch in every step her mud-soaked ugg boots took. Her eyes scanned the area: trees loitered about, their trunks black against the fading light while the leaves hung limply in deep red orange.

As soon as she deemed there was nothing out of the ordinary, she advanced quicker to her prized shelter. Footwear now caused small crunches onto the thick foliage below. Her right arm reach out and felt for the trees in her proximity, stamping her entire frame as lightly as she can against each craggy bark while the left cradled her jacket's largest lump against her chest. The usual thudding had doubled now that she was down by one useful arm. Despite the handicap, she felt calmer.

Soon, there were only a few handful of trees to creep in. The once windless place felt cooler around her, light was steadily losing to darkness, and the crickets had started their nocturnal symphony. 

She stifled a grunt as her palm was grazed by a sharp looking piece of tree bark. Only five trees to go, the urge to run was starting to fog her brain. Then, there was a tiny snap from below. Her body stopped moving, even tried not to breathe too much.

Exhale, exhale, inhale, exhale, exhale, inhale

It felt like drowning; as if water from an unknown source started to flow all around her, slowly crawling towards her nostrils. She willed herself to remember she was on land.

The bundle wiggled against her. Disrupted by the movement, she came back to her senses. Her eyes, adjusting to the darkness until she saw a small rodent scurry into the shadowy trees.

---

Fine showers of rust and dust greeted her as she unhinged the screws from a window she spotted at the back. Her left arm, pressing the bundle closer to her chest. She could not see anything but shapes of rectangles and squares.

Gambling stealth for quick comfort, Eda threw three sizable rocks, one lobbing in front where she thought looked like a hallway, another to the right, where a lot of rectangular shapes occupied; then, to the left near the façade she saw earlier. As she flung the rocks in the air, she walked a few steps back into the ever-growing darkness of the woods, ready to sprint away on the first sign of danger. 

The first rock landed to what sounded like the sound of broken tiles. The second bounced off a large rectangular object, metallic, she noted; then skidded onto the same-sounding tiled floor. The final rock landed in a hard smack against something softer than tiles. 

She just stood there, unmoving as the minutes ticked by, and the air around has dropped to a chill against her back. The cricket sounds are now growing louder. The bundle, too, was writhing actively, struggling against her chest.

With it snuggly tucked in her inner jacket and a gulp of air, she jumped in. Her feet landed on tiled floor as she expected. She crouched her body in a ball, head up, eyes twirling around, the lump lodged between her knees; her soles flat in case she needed to spring into action. Slowly, her free hand reached in her denim pocket, feeling for something until she touched something metal, a red lighter.

With a rub of her thumb, a tiny flame illuminated its metal case. The baby began to coo within its confines. To her right, she felt for the third rock. It was a few meters away.  She raised her hand.

With a fleeting swing of the flame, she saw a carpet, then the back of a sofa. To the side of the sofa, she saw a bowing figure on the floor. It took a lot of effort to fight the urge of  jumping out of the window again. Then, a rat ran out of one of the denim-cuffed legs of the figure, squeaking away into the shadows. 

The shine of the lighter caught something else on the carpeted floor: tiny elongated bulbs. Deliberately drowning out the quelled wails against her inner shirt, she crawled forward. The bulbs appeared to be glossy, a line in the middle clearly telling her how the halves are connected. Then, the bulbs clumped in more numbers near an opened brown glass bottle which in turn was near an outstretched hand from the bowing figure. Eda deduced that the bulbs were pills and she seemed to be a in living room.

After discovering what was in the living room, she carefully crawled to the left where the second rock had landed, it was a refrigerator, there was a slight scratch where the rock had collided with it. She trailed the light in an arc and a white granite countertop, and shelves reflected upon the momentary flame.

Jackpot, she thought then paused.

Her hand reached out to feel a horizontal knob handle, then she pulled. It was one of those countertop shelves. The faint torchlight revealed the glint of scattered dinnerware. Eda searched for a sizeable knife and fitted it around her belt. 

She took it with a firm grip and ventured into the hallway she had deduced earlier. It was narrow and a stench of something rotten wafted. Fighting a gag and snuffing small shrills without killing the creature inside her jacket as best as she could, her feet stepped forward until she reached a solid wooden door. It was closed shut. With sweaty palms and knife at ready, she pushed, feeling little resistance as the door creaked open. A strong rotten scent met her nose, she was getting closer to the source.

In the moonlight illuminated through the light-colored curtains, she saw stuffed animals and dolls scattered on a carpeted rug. More toys and what seem to look like framed pictures were displayed in a shelf in the middle of the room. Behind the toy-filled shelf, she saw a bed. It looked rather small for an adult. From the ceiling was a canopy of translucent sheet. It cascaded down to the bed, the glossiness of the fabric betrayed the outlines of something lying from within. 

The tiny creature was incessantly wailing within the confines of the inner jacket now. Eda steeled herself as she drew near the veiled bed. The smell of decay washed over her and the muffled wailing grew louder as she slashed the sheets, its torn pieces revealing an image that made her spew whatever food she can retch out of her stomach.

On the bed was a small corpse. Large bits of grey flesh had already fallen off of the main figure. It melded with the pieces of clothing and what seems to be yellow curls of hair scattered on the bed. 

Her nerve had left  as her legs failed to hold her up and she roughly keeled onto the carpeted floor. Her palms wet from whatever she expelled earlier but that wasn't the only thing she felt that's wet. The teddy bear she was looking at was foggier than usual.

In a beat, she left the room. A few meters away from it was another room. This time, there were no decaying bodies to greet her. It was just a regular bedroom with a regular bed and furniture. Eden rummaged the closet and lucky enough, found baby clothes neatly folded at the bottom shelf. A chill shot through her as she grabbed a pink frilly onesie. Slowly, she eased the now warm and wet bundle out from her jacket which was now soaked. Then, set the little one to bed. 

"Shh.." Eda hummed, trying to pacify the wriggling baby by dropping a few drops of water from her canteen into the gurgling tiny mouth. After a few attempts of feeding, the baby's cries mellowed to occasional whimpers. Using a clean handkerchief she got from the dresser, she dampen it with some water the began to wipe. 

----

She was finally shoveling the last of the dirt into the fresh burial hole. As soon as the deed was done, she stabbed the shovel into the earth and kneeled in front of the hole. 

"Rest in peace..." she whispered to no one in particular. 

----

"Go on, my darling."

"Mom!"

"Shh. Go!" She spoke again, volume louder while fighting off a surge of blood erupting from her throat. Her freezing hands thrusting a rifle to the girl in front of her. Everything was in raging red, black and white with the last color slowly creeping in to dull out the rest. There was no more time.

"Remember what I taught you. Be brave." As soon as she opened her mouth blood finally bloomed from the edges of her mouth. All she could see are blue eyes.

The very same pair of blue who woke her up in that garden hammock eons ago.

"C'mon, Eda! Your bag wouldn't pack itself. Mom's already in the car."

Blue, huh?