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Flash Fiction

The Puddle? 

There is an infamous folktale right here where I live. People believe that when a storm appears, it will leave behind something far more sinister than just water and the grazing wind. Rumours say that something resides within the storm, and when the time comes, it will hunt down anything unfortunate enough to be its feast.

As time flies, people thought that this story is some sort of mumbo-jumbo that parents made so their children wouldn’t go out to play during a storm.

But I should have listened to those stories because the consequences are real.

It was a rainy day when it happened. Me and my brother watched as the storm poured down the road, the slashing wind, the freezing air. To be honest, my brother and I enjoyed it. We were looking forward to playing after the storm because, usually, puddles would fill up since there are lots of potholes in the road.

Me and my brother would usually jump in these puddles. Though it seems childish, if it makes my little brother happy, it will make me happy too. The storm seems to slow down as I look at my younger brother.

He eagerly jumps and says, “Brother, brother, when will the rain stop?” I looked at him and gave him a gentle smile.

As the storm fades, the cloud seems to stay, the sky dark as the night, and the wind chills through our bones. My younger brother looked at me. He seemed determined to jump in one of the puddles. I simply couldn’t refuse. But before we left the house, My mother told me something. “Boys, be careful. It’s still dark. Remember, only a quick play and we’ll have dinner.”

My brother and I nodded and simply headed out to the road to search for a puddle.

“I’M SORRY I LEFT THAT DAY.”

As we run through the streets, it seems that we can’t find more puddles. I looked at the sky as it gets darker. I told my brother, “We should go home. Maybe the puddles will stay until tomorrow.”

A frown etched itself upon my brother’s face as tears fall from his eyes.

I felt bad, so I decided to search for one in a forest near our house. Fortunately, we managed to find one, but something seems odd. My heart screams for us not to approach it, but my brother gleefully runs through the forest floor with joy in his eyes.

“I SHOULD HAVE DONE SOMETHING. IT’S MY FAULT.”

As I walked slowly, I could see him jumping normally, but as I got closer, my brother immediately stopped. He said, “Brother, something’s pulling me….” I thought it was a joke, but just in case, I tried pulling him out of the puddle.

As I pulled him back, I felt like something was pulling back. My brother started crying, and I assured him I would get him out. And then, in the blink of an eye, my brother was dragged into the puddle. I tried jumping in, but the puddle is as shallow as it was before.

“̸̞̂I̸̥͠ ̵̰̑W̶̥̊A̸͈̿S̶͎̈́ ̷̱̇C̴͔̿Ǫ̷́N̴̡̛F̸̃͜Ǔ̵̧S̷̨͑E̵͎͝D̶̙͂,̴̼͒ ̴̮͝W̸̻̓H̷̡̋Ȁ̴͕T̸̞̈́ ̵̊ͅS̶̳͑Ȟ̸̲O̶̻͘Ǘ̴̫L̴͔̓D̵̳̔ ̶̦̽Ȋ̶͓ ̶̮͂D̴̤͂O̷̘̒?̶̡̐”̸̙͌

I scream, “Brother!” I can hear his faint voice screaming, “HELP ME!!!”

But I can’t do anything. My mind was blank. My only thought was to run home.

I ran and ran until I lost my breath, tears falling from my eyes as I screamed for my parents. My father saw me on the ground. He quickly sprinted towards me and asked what happened. I said, “The puddle! Brother! H-he…!” For the first time in my life, I see fear in my father’s eyes.

My mother, who was approaching me, seemed to be trembling, and both of my parents froze.

Father simply said, “It has returned.”

My father picked me up, and both of them ran to the house, locking the windows and doors. They told me to hide in their room. My father carried a cross and simply told me and my mother to pray for him.

Though the night seemed long, it finally ended.

My father and my mother cried. They knew they had lost their youngest one. They weren’t mad at me. It wasn’t my fault, they said.

My father told me, “Never wander into that forest and never approach those puddles.”

If only I knew what to do, he would still be here.

The feeling of guilt haunts me, yet a desire for vengeance starts to grow within me.

“̶̼̍̐I̶̱̱͇̐̉ ̸̘͈͉̍̂W̴͔̏̈̔I̸̬̔̅̚L̸͉̱̺͆͘͝L̷̈̈͜ ̶̛͈͔͌̚G̷̬̐̽̏E̷̹̜̩̓T̴͈͎͋͌͝ ̵̃͜͜͝T̶̠̟̅̚͜Ḧ̶̫́Ė̷̛̺͇͔ ̵͔̮͙̉̊T̴̢͓̿̄̓ͅH̵͕͆̈́͜I̴͉̖̼͑N̴̫̔̈͊G̵͙͗ ̷͖̫̀̔T̵̮̅̚H̶̘̑͆͠A̷͇̪̾͗͋T̴̮̻̃ ̶̙͍̉̓͊T̴̤̮̿Õ̵̡͎͊̃Ọ̸̎͗̈́Ķ̶̹̹̆ ̶̳͉̠̏͛͂M̵̰̰͐̈̽Ÿ̸͉̥͝͝ ̶̟̯̉̇̇͜B̵͈̻͒̈́̌R̵͔͖̳̂̾O̵̡̺̩͆T̴̨̺̣̾Ḫ̵͆E̶̳̣̱̽̈́̎R̴̰͙̀̈́͌ ̵̺͙̄Ȧ̸̡̜̬W̵̗̗̪̿̈́͘À̶̻Ỹ̷̪̝͓́.̴͕̈”̴̫̈́

TO BE CONTINUED………..

Author: Putu Beryl Putra W

Editor: Nanda Pratama Putera Tomasila & Vonna Meisya Saputra (QC)

Illustrator: Angelita Dayang Diva

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