Little Red Riding Hood

One

     I wake up shivering, the cold air stinging my skin.  I hear Mama and Papa arguing again downstairs.

     "You're always staying late!"

     "I'm trying to support my family while you sit here doing nothing!"

    "I'm here watching Lila!"

    "That's not what she told me! 'Papa is always sleeping or reading!'"

     "Well I called your boss! Of the two months you've 'stayed late', you've only ever stayed past five o'clock once, and it was to organize papers! Where are you going after work?!"

     "Ugggghhh you are impossible! LILA!" My mother's furious tone had me running to the living room and almost falling down the steps. Both my mother and father were red in the face from shouting and anger. Mama has tears of fury about to overflow in her eyes.  Papa looks like he's about to throw something. "I-I'm going on a walk. I'll be back by five o'clock," Mama says in a shaking voice.

     "Are you sure you won't be going to... uh.... what's his name? Anjo? Are you sure you aren't going to Anjo's house?! Huh?!" Mama slams the door and I race to my room and I grab my heavy white cloak. It's the most luxurious thing I own. The inside is lined with black fur. There's embroidery of birds in black and their wings are defined in metallic gold thread. I quickly fasten on with three black buttons that have gold birds on them. I hop into my black boots and race outside to see Mama.

    "Mama! Mama!" She turns around. Her face was tear stained and red. 

     "G-go back into the house, baby. Mama needs some time alone." I run to catch up to her and walk in silence for a while. As the hours pass by, the sun begins it's descent. The clouds become dark and their bottoms are colored orange by the sun's glow. The sun shines through the tall pine trees before finally sinking to rest.  The sky is a dark ebony and the stars shined a bright angelic white. "Please go back, Lila." I clung onto Mama's arm, indicating I didn't want to go home. "Alright, take the long way home. Tell Papa you got lost." I nod, and walk off the path towards the back of the big seamstress shop. There were smaller ones, and this shop had been one of them. The seamstress was so successful that he had to upgrade. This is where I got my cloak. There's moss on the bricks and vines climbing the brick walls. The tall glass windows were fogging up and there was the dim light of the seamstress hard at work coming from the top two windows.  The only thing piercing the deafening silence is the crunch of the snow under my feet. The boots weigh me down and I try not to trip on an uplifted root or rock. My attempts fail and I'm sent flying to the cold ground. I quickly get up and brush off the fluffy white snow. I hurry back onto the main path.

     When I get home, I don't say anything to Papa. I head to my room, the wood floor creaking under my weight and my feet dragging up the steps. Once I get to my room I throw my cloak onto the floor and hop into bed. I pull my three wool blankets over my shaking body. As I drift off to sleep, I try to ignore that I know I didn't trip. That I didn't feel the cold hand with long thin fingers on my back. That I didn't hear the low hiss getting closer to me the longer I stayed on the ground. That all I did was trip.