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Floating

They were digging again

By SaiyanChuPublished 4 years ago 5 min read
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They were digging again.

The grassy lot that sat between two aged brick homes served as a playground for generations until the people in bright yellow arrived. I stood just across the street, the opaque barrier making it impossible to see anything up close, to watch them moving about from the neck up. Some worked silently, expressions etched with razor sharp focus. Others spoke and laughed frequently, faces as bright as a Sunday morning.  The sting of my nails pressed harshly in my palms did nothing for my temper . Our once peaceful block was now home to loud, rattling and unapologetic men and machinery.

No one on the block knew what they were digging for. Even with my skill of eavesdropping, it was clear even the workers knew nothing when asked. One morning as my  father embraced my tired mother he promised he would go into town and file a complaint. It was maddening to endure the racket each day.

-

Sunday had always been my favorite day of the week. Waking to the smell of grilled meat and my parents laughter was the best kind of alarm. Today, unfortunately, engines revving up and frantic voices woke me. Rage filled my veins and coursed through my body as I snatched the sheets off and slid out of bed. I could hear my mother in the shower as I stomped towards the front door. My father nowhere in sight. Covered in just an over sized night gown & no shoes whatsoever, I knew I had to make them stop. No one would stop me.

I didn't stop running once I left our porch. The cool morning air infiltrating my thin gown did little to deter me as I sprinted towards the source of everyone's ire. Stopping just before the barrier entry way I opened my mouth ready to scream at the people in yellow. Instead I was left  doubling over and gasping for air as my vision went spotty.

Squatting down and squeezing my eyes shut I did my best calm my breathing. Moments passed before my lungs caught up with my body. I could hear heavy steps coming closer .... A thin man with leathery tan skin gaped at me. Sizing me quickly before looking away with a shake of his head.  Just behind him were more workers mimicking his reaction as they passed through the entry of the gate.

I stood up and followed the last man as he passed me, missing as I reached to grab at his stained yellow shirt. The workers paid me no mind as they went to their work stations, grabbing equipment from here and there. The thin man from before went towards the center where the main drill loomed over what I assume was the deepest hole they'd created. He sat in the seat and the familiar noise of the drill started, joining the chorus of other tools. None of them spared me another glance, likely because I didn't pass through the gate. Or because of my state of dress. It didn't matter.I didn't plan on going inside. It was pointless to yell.

My voice no match for the combined rumbling of all the heavy machinery. I was ready to turn away from the entry when I saw them. Figures cloaked in baggy creme colored clothing floating out of the pit where the drill continued to twirl downwards. The air that returned to my lungs left once again. Goosebumps prickled at my skin, and the moist morning air only worsened the chill going through my body at the sight.

A blue scarf loosely wrapped around the neck of one of the floating bodies caught my attention.  Strangely similar to one gifted to a grade school friend afflicted with Leukemia.  My eyes flitted back and forth between them and the workers, still going about their jobs.  A cigarette hung from the thin man's mouth, one hand fiddling with a lighter and the other with switches that controlled the drill. He should have been the first to see them. I was sure none of the other workers saw the floating bodies either, their backs facing me as they drifted above the oblivious workmen.

The smaller body adorned with the scarf started to twist around toward me.  Stepping back, I readied myself to run back into the house I had no business leaving. The face revealed to me belonged to Chelsea, the one who had passed from her affliction. The other's followed suit, revealing Mrs Sullivan, the neighborhood candy lady who had fell in her home, left undiscovered for three days until us kids complained about not being able to buy our favorite goodies for cheap. 

Maybe I was still sleeping. There was no way bodies of the deceased could just float around like this. Plus I wasn't the type to just run out of my home barely dressed and without the permission of my parents.  The next figure floating toward me turned around revealing my grandmother's smiling face eyes focused right on me. Stepping back again, I stumbled over the uneven sidewalk and landed right on my butt. 

Snapping my head back up a worker blocked the dead from view, no longer behind the gates but in front of me with his hands grabbing at my arms to help me up. My grandmother's voice rang loud and clear.

"Get your hands off her and get back to work." And he did. Showing no sign he heard her the man straightened up, walked over to pick up his tools and went back to work without a word.

______

Hey ya'll!

I wanted to share a short story I wrote while reading journal entries from other Authors.  The line that inspired this in particular is " Most of the dead floated, traveling with the help of their own invisible wind." (This was from the journal entry of Philip Graham). I am working on writing from different point of views, using past, present tense, etc. So this was some practice for me in that regard.

Hope you enjoyed my little story :)

-Chu

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About the Creator

SaiyanChu

Hello, I'm an aspiring Author working on building my skills through short stories. I have a hyperactive imagination so many of my stories will be extremely random.

I work as a Nurse full time and write on my downtime.

Saiyanchu.com

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