Cruel & Blue (Eyeless Jack story)

Chapter 6

Chapter 6

The forest was vast and desolate. Only the birds and rustling of trees could be heard for miles. The cottage was cozy and quiet, it was just me. My small hands ran over the raw meat on the wooden counter and I then lifted up a knife to cut into it. I was preparing dinner for tonight. Father caught a goose and skinned it for me. Now all I had to do was cut it up and prepare it while he worked on chopping lumber outside. I looked out the window and saw him at work, slamming an ax down on cylinders of wood. The wood fell over in piles once it was split and he'd huff every time. I giggled and went back to cutting up the meat.

Once it was cut into appropriate portions I placed them over the fire in the kitchen and waited. I grabbed a rag and wiped down my hands then looked out the window. Father seems a little tired though he said he'd be chopping until dusk. I decided to bring him some water and grabbed the pitcher on the counter filled with the liquid. I grabbed a polished wooden cup from the cabinets above and poured the water. Once I was done, I walked out of the cottage and made my way towards him. My faded blue dress dragged slightly across the fallen leaves of autumn and I finally came up near him. He chopped one last piece of wood and looked up at me. His face was dampened with sweat from all of the work and I smiled at him. Father was tall and a very sturdy man. And he was a very smart one too. His hair was brunette, like mine, but his is short of course, and he has a beard of the same color. He wears his spectacles all of the time and he's always sporting a serious expression.

"Hello, Emily," he said, "What are doing out here?"

"I came to bring you some water," I explained, holding up the cup to him. He looked down at it and then gave me a soft smile, which he rarely does. He took the cup out of my small hands, allowing me to feel his big, calloused ones for a brief moment. "Thank you, daughter," Father told me, before drinking the water.

"Anything for you," I told him, bouncing slightly.

"Is dinner almost ready?" he asked me. I nodded and told him, "I barely just put it on the fire. It should be done by the time all of the wood is chopped and dusk comes."

Father handed me the empty cup and I took it from his hands. "Emily, I'd have a bit more closure if you were precise and you would say dinner will be done by dusk. I rarely ever say the word should. I expect you to do the same and be precise about anything and everything. You are my daughter, after all."

I pouted slightly and murmured, "I know, Father.." He nodded while he put his ax up on his shoulder and said, "Good. Now go back inside and tend to the fire. I don't want the cottage burning down."

I nodded and followed Father's orders. I turned back around and made my way back to the cottage. As I walked, I looked into the woods that surrounded us. My emerald eyes widened and I stopped in my tracks. My shock made me lose my grip on the cup and it dropped to the ground. Something Father and I dreaded was coming. This always happened. I went into immediate action and ran up to my occupied guardian. "Father! Father!" I called, tugging on his button shirt. He stopped chopping for a moment and looked at me, groaning, "What is it Emily?"

"Look!" I said, pointing into the tree-line. Father looked over to see what I was telling him about and his brown eyes widened. His jaw clenched and I could hear a faint gulp within his throat. He dropped the ax and said, "Get inside."

"But-."

"Get. Inside. Emily," he ordered once more and I quickly scurried back to the cottage. I quickly closed the door and went to the kitchen to put out the blazing fire. As the fire became tails of smoke, Father entered the cottage and shut the door, bracing it with a wooden barrier bolt. I watched him with frantic eyes and then looked out the window. I gasped once I saw the men outside. They were barely coming out of the trees and they all held muskets in their hands. I watched them as they circled the front yard and looked at the wood piles Father had made with precarious looks. There was a total of five men. They were all from the town a few miles away from our cottage. They must have heard of us and decided to deal with us like all of the other townsmen in other towns have tried to do. Each man was different, each weapon they had was different, each place we stayed in that they came into was different, but the intent of their actions was always the same. They all wanted to see me burned at the stake.