The Ending of a Beginning
“Honey, dinner’s ready!” Holly hollered from the kitchen. Footsteps came trampling in which made Holly laugh that hearty laugh from the belly. She adored the kids and I did, too. The smell of fresh homemade pasta filled the air, asparagus lined a pan coated in wax paper. We’d started growing our own garden in recent years, prices were flying up and it made buying the proper groceries impossible. Everyone around us seemed to pick up on the need for gardening skills. I’d gone to the store once to pick up ‘how-to’ books only for them to be sold out.
Holly lived on a farm her whole life before we got married so gardening was ingrained in her. She’d ask me why I needed the books, what difference would it even make having them, and what even was the purpose of them. The books were written in 2024 when the gardens were a hobby more than a necessity. There were reports of people having grown an abundance of product back then, enough so that it was an entire career to feed the people of America. I believed we were long past that then. Drought struck us first. Then the fires. Then erosion. It all came so fast that no one knew what we were to do.
“Dad, can we go out to play today?” Roman asked. I would have loved for him to go out and play like I had done growing up. It wasn’t safe. He knew that it wasn’t safe now.
“Keep an eye on each other,” I replied, “and eat your dinner first.”
Roman nodded eagerly and stuffed his mouth full of pasta. His sister, Marley ate slowly. She always tended to eat slowly, savoring her food. I can’t blame the child, if pasta and asparagus was the only ‘fancy’ dinner I got - I’d savor it, too. Once the kids had their fill, they put on their shoes and were off. I'd warned the guards of the two so they didn’t think they were an intruder. Most of the community knew them except for the new guards. They were the ones out on watch today. I learned early on to alert the guards when Susan and her husband lost their youngest, Micheal to one of the guards. They hadn’t known the child and immediately followed the protocol to shoot.
Holly turned to me that night, pressed a tender kiss to my cheek. I knew something was wrong then. She wasn’t the affectionate type and always tried to butter me up when she needed something. Personally, I loved physical touch, that type of love was ingrained in me. I had always been a sucker for a good ol’ cuddle session in bed. This wasn’t one of those nights I fear. Holly’s next words confirmed this.
“I heard from Aiden that they are starting to cut jobs. Alex has already been cut, so has Tysen and Trevor. You could be next, Jasper.” Holly explained. I’d known about the cuts. Parker, my boss, told us we were next on the block. The only reason to try to understand gardening more. Except the soil is awful. It is nearly impossible to plant anything.
“I know, sweetheart,” I replied even though I was on edge about it too. I couldn’t let Holly see that though, she was a worrier. She would ask for me to stay home from work tomorrow in hopes that I’d be one of the few who didn’t know about the cut.
Roman and Marley soon entered the home covered in dirt from head to toe. Holly gave them a glance over and immediately rushed them to the bathroom to wash. I wasn’t about to tell her we needed to fetch more water from the well - if there was any. My name being hollered from the bathroom answered that.
“I’ll get it,” I sighed and stood from my seat at the table. The second I stepped outside, the smell of smoke filled my nose and I searched for the source. The well. A fire had spread to the well. Soon, it would hit the home. I needed to get my family out of there.
I hurried inside and grabbed the emergency pack from the back closet. I had always known that something like this was coming. We are in the trenches, the land surrounding us has been drier than the Sahara desert. It was about time that it happened. Holly knew something was wrong when she saw the pack in my hands. She gathered the kids and moved to walk out the front door when one of the shingles from the roof fell.
“Go! Now!” I screamed, ushering them out the door as quickly as possible. We had no where to go, no where to be, no home, no garden, no land to call our own. Only us.
“Jasper, what are we going to do?” Holly asked, the two kids looking between us like lost sheep. In which case, we kind of were. We had nothing but what was on our backs along with whatever was in the pack.
“We go north, find somewhere away from here.”
“There is no north. It looks the same there as it does here. No green grass, no trees, no water. It isn’t safe for us there.”
“We have no choice, Holly.”
“We do have a choice, we should have just died in that fire like the rest of this place!”
I sighed and took Holly by the hand, leading the group towards the never ending highway. We needed to leave before the thieves took over the land. It would have been our heads on sticks rather than burned skin.
We didn’t know where we were going or, much rather, what we would be doing when we got there. All that mattered was that we were together and will always be together even long after this is over. I will be the first to find a new home for us. Holly and I actually. Marley and Roman will just increase the population of the new community we will make.
“Daddy, can we take a break? My feet hurt,” Roman called. He was standing hand in hand with Marley at his sides. Holly sighed next to me, looking around the area that we were in. The trees were hanging low, branches hovering over our heads. I glanced up at the sky, the sun fading down into the abyss to swap places with the moon.
“Let’s find a place, son,” I murmured and scanned the area. There were other stragglers walking, some with bags, most with nothing besides what they were wearing. Marley screamed, causing each of us, plus strangers, to look in our direction.
“There’s a dog!” Marley yelled and ran into Holly’s arms, scratching at her shirt. I turned my gaze to where her small finger pointed, reaching into the side holster for my gun.
“What are you doing? Don’t kill the thing!” Holly smacked my hand away from my holster, glaring at me with her hardened stare. The look that she gives the kids when they are acting out. I sigh and rush them forward, keeping my eye on the dog in the bushes. The dog watched our movements, its fur sticking up in the wind and teeth on show for all to see.
Eventually, we found a corner with broken down boxes, it seemed like someone had left them behind. I didn’t care, Marley was crying and leaving red marks on her mother, Roman kept stopping and touching his feet in an attempt to soothe them, and Holly had been begging me to find us a place quickly.
I grabbed Marley from Holly and set her down on one of the boxes, prompting Roman to follow, then finally, Holly joined us. Looking around the empty woods, every blow of wind sent shivers down my spine. Tonight is the first night we were without a home. Tonight is the first of many where we would have to find the rest, find where to be, find something or anything to keep us from dying. Tonight is the first of many that will alter the way we view safety and home.
A Dim Lightbulb
August tended to find herself questioning what was hiding behind that locked door. The one door that her father had prevented her from entering all her life. The one that he kept a padlock on, where the key was never in sight until one day; he had left the room unlocked since he was in a rush to leave. Her father had taken her mother out for an anniversary dinner tonight; he had loved her and never shown any signs that he hadn’t. The two have been together for years, spent many months and days attached to the hip, at least that’s what people assumed.
August had kept herself from the room all her life, never touching it, smelling the fumes from inside. She had never pictured the idea of entering the basement, the place where her father said, “It’s not safe.” Until that day when it all changed. The world seemed to spin a bit slower when she noticed the key dangling from the key’s padlock.
Without thinking, she began to twist the silver, rusted knob. The door creaked when she pushed it open, the darkness of the room enveloping around August. A shiver ran through her spine, goosebumps lining her skin from the sudden chill that filled the air. She doesn’t remember how, why, or when she entered the room, but here she was. She placed her hands against the wall searching for the familiar light switch, except there wasn’t one. Running into a shelf, she had found a flashlight, using it to find the string that hung on the ceiling near the steps. She reached up and tugged once, twice, three times before the room lit up. The bulb flickered at first before finally, it remained glowing.
August looked around the room, her eyes landing on a wall of nails that held different types of saws, hammers, and more. When did her father pick up building? She had always known her father to not once touch a tool, let alone own so many of them. Maybe he had done it in the past before she was born. Then the smell filled her lungs. That stench of rotting trash… was this where her father went when he emptied the kitchen trash? Her eyes searched around the room for what could be causing the smell, but nothing seemed out of place. Right? Then there it was. The big box, the one that had been covered in what seemed to be plastic. August approached the box, tiptoeing around the room. She paused her movements when she heard the faint sound of something muffled. She was home alone, no one else was there. The faint sound of a male’s voice on the TV yelled, “Get out!” August didn’t bother to listen, her hands moved slow, careful and delicate as she peeled the cover off the box. She lifted the lid, flinching at the loud squeak it released when finally opened. Inside, a woman’s eyes met her own, and August jumped back, unsure of who it was.
“I think you’ve seen enough, Augs,” the booming voice came from behind her. August pulled her hand away from the box and turned around to face her father, but she wasn’t met with the familiar smile that welcomed her home from school or the same person who would dance around the kitchen with her when she couldn’t sleep. This face looked rougher, the lines on his face tight, and his pupils locked on hers. A sight she hadn’t ever seen from him before.
“Go, now,” her father demanded, his voice gruff; a commanding voice that had her slowly climbing the stairs. Her father watched her footsteps, waiting until she was finally out of sight before turning to the box. He slammed the box lid closed, refusing to listen to the pleas of the woman inside. The sound didn’t bother him much; he had just wanted it to end.
About a week later, August passed by the door again, and her attention was immediately pulled towards it. She was reminded of the muffled cry, the eyes of a woman staring at her, then her father’s cold-hearted stare that sent her barreling towards her bedroom. Today was a special day, though; it was her birthday, and she was finally turning fifteen. Another year closer to getting her license and closer to the day she was able to have her father’s car as her own.
“You ready, August?” her father called from the kitchen, then his eyes narrowed in on where she stood. August turned to answer her father, only to see him closing in on her. His pupils dilated, switching from their usual greenish-brown color to a faint red around the rim. There seemed to be some kind of fury beneath his eyes that she had uncovered since that night in the basement. It was something that she never thought she would see again, yet here he was.
The door to the basement swung open, and her father motioned for August to enter. She didn’t wait to be told twice; she turned and ran down the steps and immediately landed at the box. The rough edge of plastic digging into her back, her hands gripping onto the edge. The bulb flickered a couple of times with each tug her father had made until the entire room was engulfed in the dim light. Her father stepped closer to her, a hammer in hand, ready to pounce. Then her mother’s voice came ringing in the home, calling out to her. August went to scream, oh how she wanted to scream, to tell her mother about the man that lived in the basement, but it was too late.
The hammer collided with her skull, and within seconds, August found herself on the cold, hard basement floor. Her eyes fluttered open at the sound of sirens and muted voices, the click of handcuffs, and a worried look on her mother’s face. Those were the last things she heard and saw before she lost consciousness. When she awoke again, she was in a cold hospital room, machines and IVs hooked up to her. Her mother had explained what happened to her, how she ended up here, and in return, August told her about the things she had seen in the basement. From the bodies to the body parts, and the tools.
“Happy birthday, August,” her mother simply stated, a sad smile on her face. August could tell that her mother was trying to focus on the special day, but there was no denying the tears that stained her mother’s cheeks. The way her hand shook when she reached out to hand over the gift she had gotten for August. It was the tiny things that had August believing her mother was unaware of who she had married, the man who had held a body in a box, and the same man who would pretend to care for his daughter as any normal father would. He used to give her flowers just because, during the week or the times when he would dance with mother in the kitchen late into the night.
August shoved the present aside and opened her arms, reaching for her mother. In the end, she knew that this was going to be a long journey to return to a healthy life, one that would not be consumed by fear or one where she would not need to look over her shoulder. For all they knew, the danger was gone, and it was going to just be the two of them looking after the other. It will be a hard road that will only ease with time.
Hopefully, she will not have to worry about another locked door.
Grayce Teague
Grayce is a senior studying English - on the writing track with the hope to one day become an author in the near future. She loves to read during her free time, her favorite genres being either romance or mystery/thriller. A fun fact about Grayce is that she loves to cook, even if she will deny it to her parents. She can make just about anything in the kitchen whether it's a steak or brownies - don't tell her parents that, though, they would expect her to cook more often.