You Can’t Go Home Again Part 2

Ok, go

This is based on the six sentence story prompt “wear” from girlontheedge, and it a continuation of last weeks story, where a desperate girl passed into Faerie, and feasted upon the offered food. This week, we get to see what becomes of her as she realizes the truth of her actions. It could probably by read alone, but I recommend reading “You Can’t Go Home Again” first.

It was only when she was full that the weight of her actions settled upon her, and the regret she felt made the food feel like lead in her stomach, as without her, her sister would soon starve, alone on the poor side of town.

Time melted away as she waited to see another, to explain her plight, ask for assistance, and when she had finally given up, pleading her case into the emptiness of the house, it seemed that her prayers were answered. She knew somehow, as the wall swung open, that should she make the choice the step through it, here and now, she would never be able to return again, and the memory freezing on an empty stomach made her pause only a moment before she pressed on.

In minutes she was at the mushroom ring, the world growing dimmer as she stepped through it, and she ran towards town, knowing that she had made it back to her own realm, one of those touched by the Fae and lucky enough to live to tell the tale, or so she thought.

She was stopped cold when she arrived in town, it was as strange as it was familiar, the roads that were in the same spots were now covered with some strange dark rock, occupied not by horses and carriages, but by screaming metal beasts that moved far too fast, by buildings that no longer bore any resemblance to those she knew except for the chapel. The people, so many of them, all seemed to wear strange garments, giving her queer looks as they passed, and as she stood before giant building where her home should been, she began to weep, as she now knew the truth of what she had been told about eating the food of faerie, she could never go home again.

You Can’t Go Home Again

This six-sentence story using the word “Shelter” is proof that you can be inspired by one thing, and write something entirely different. I was thinking shelter from the storm, listening to Castle on a Cloud, thinking about pour Cosette, when I wrote a story of a girl who wakes up somewhere with no clear memory of how she got there, and the overwhelming temptation of food.

When she awoke it was like she was laying on a cloud, she had never felt something so soft and hadn’t been so warm since summer. She would have stayed there forever had it not been for the smell of warm bread, and she was so hungry when she hopped down, she didn’t notice the strange texture of the walls, like the bark of a tree, or that the ground beneath her feet was actually a thick moss; she didn’t even notice the strange gown she was was wearing, light as feather, soft as silk, and terribly warm.

She found the bread, along with fresh cream, fruit, more food than she had even seen before really, and she barely resisted the urge to cram her mouth full of it. Something about this seemed so familiar to her, and yet it was hovering at the edge of her memory, just out of reach.

She blinked as she tried to clear her head, remember how she got here, but all she could recall was running into the forest, snow like knives against her bare feet, desperate for shelter from the cold of winter, knowing if she returned to town she would lose a hand for the theft of a meat pie a week prior, and if she stayed outside she would die.

Her last clear memory was of finding food, a circle of mushrooms, she had whirled around in the center of it at her good fortune, and, and, the smell of bread overwhelmed her thoughts, she was half way through the load when she realized what she had done, but by then it was too late, she could never go home again.