Short Story Excerpt “Sarvana”

It was a late Friday afternoon. The dogs were rowdy and howling like wolves. The sirens echoed and flashing lights blared. The little square apartment was shaking. The train was nearby.

Sarvana’s light brown eyes were getting heavy, and she slowly began drifting away. The darkness was peaceful and calming, yet she knew it was risky to fall asleep. She untied her knotted red hair that sat in a high bun and laid her head back. Right now, she could care less about the risk. She could feel the aches and pains radiating through her sore body.

The TV blared sounds of her favorite movie, Dirty Dancing. Baby and her family were just arriving at the Catskills resort. She had watched this movie over and over again, with her mom. It was her favorite movie too.

Her lukewarm soda was flat and half-eaten bowl of popcorn with extra butter was soggy. A bloody finger and a few dead bodies will make you lose your appetite really quick.

The old grandfather clock she hated, hung on the white and yellow walls in front of her. She quickly opened her eyes and glanced at the time. Only 9pm, but it felt so much later.

She looked down at her phone. 10 missed calls, 6 unread messages. She moved the beige flower curtains behind her and peeked out the window. She stared into the fierce darkness and wondered what was out there was watching, lurking and waiting for her. She didn’t feel scared, but ready to face it.

Sarvana longed for peace, solace and normalcy, but that wasn’t reality. It wasn’t her reality.

A loud bang echoed outside. Sarvana shot up immediately. She knew she had to be prepared. She rubbed her eyes and stretched her body.

Sleep deprivation wasn’t the only thing she suffered from. She walked over to the closet and pulled out her silver case. She dug into her pocket and grabbed the key. It was an old rusty key with the engraving of her father's initials. JD. Jerome Devan. Devan was his middle name. Sarvana stared at the engraving and remembered how her father used to tell her stories of his childhood. Some were good, others were full of sadness. She always sat intently and listened.

She stared down at the silver case the key was for. Whenever she came into the room, her father would quickly hide it from her and give her a big kiss and a pat of the shoulder. He tried so much to shield her from it all, but it longed for her. It followed her. It was her destiny. Sarvana always knew something was different about her.

Sarvana opened the case, looked at her options. She looked to the side of the case and picked up the broken frame which held a torn picture. Her sister Kammie was only 6 in this picture. Kammie sat on her mother's lap and Sarvana on her father's. Kammie and her always were so close. Sarvana being the older sister, always made sure she won at every game they played. She shielded her from bullies and haters.

Sarvana stared into Kammie's eyes. "I'm so sorry Kammie. I tried; I really did." Sarvana's eyes welled with tears. She closed her eyes and could hear her sister's screams as they dragged her by the hair kicking and screaming. She could clearly hear the sounds of her cries for help. Sarvana was helpless and she hated it.

Sarvana needed to focus.

She turned back to the case. She chose the Remington 870 Shotgun. Today was that kind of day.