This is a story based on the prompt by @LKJSlain.
The city bustled around Scarlett as she trudged down the road to her grandmother’s house. She usually enjoyed the walk home from school, but today, her backpack was heavy and it was getting cold. She was wearing her summer school uniform, a light dress and stockings rather than tights, but there was a wintery chill in the air. The approach of autumn made her happy, but she wished she’d worn her winter uniform. At least she had her school jacket, which she pulled tighter against her.
The leaves on the trees were turning colors. She enjoyed it while she could. She was still in the nice part of the city, the part where there were still trees planted every so often along the sidewalk. She enjoyed it while she could. She certainly didn’t live in the nice part of the city. Her section of the city couldn’t afford to plant trees.
Scarlett caught site of her reflection in a window. She liked the way she looked in her school uniform. It was a white dress with a red “R” emblazoned on the front with a red hooded jacket and her shiny black school shoes. R for Richmond Academy.
Scarlett was lucky enough to score an academic scholarship at the normally private Richmond Academy, or else she’d attend Whiteside Middle School. Scarlett was smart for her age of eleven, but she was also small and somewhat timid. Added to her desire to please her teachers, a girl like Scarlett would barely survive a place like Whiteside.
The streets around Scarlett changed around her as she walked. First to go were the trees. Gradually, the streets became dirtier and litter more rampant. The shops here were much less kept, and the cars parked in front of them weren’t so nice. Even the sky seemed to darken, though that was probably Scarlett’s imagination. The smell of garbage, human waste, and sweat grew stronger. The buildings seemed to press in around her, derelict and depressing. A stray cat, probably feral, crossed in front of her. Shades of grey were the only colors here: pewter buildings broken by grimy windows and doors with peeling paint.
As always, grandma’s house stood out from the rest. It was the only one that was kept up in the long row of attached houses. It was painted white with a bright green door. There were rosebushes in the front garden and colorful flowers in the window boxes. Smoke churned from the chimney.
Scarlett went up the walk and opened the front door. The comforting site of her grandma’s living room welcomed her. It was a different world in here. She could hear a siren off in the distance, but if not for that, she could be in a little house in the country somewhere. Grandma’s house was so cozy, and not just because of the cheery fire burning in the fireplace.
The house was simply decorated. There was a painting of a forest with tall, dark green trees on one wall and some family portraits on the mantle above the fireplace. Scarlett set her backpack down on one of the worn, brown couches. Since grandma didn’t come to meet her at the door, she was probably taking a nap. Scarlett decided not to bother her.
The sound of the refrigerator bombilating in the kitchen tempted her too much. She poured herself a glass of milk. As she turned to go back into the living room, a glint of silver caught her eye. Frowning, she picked it up. It was one of grandma’s earrings, the hoop ones with the delicate little spirals. Grandma always wore those earrings. She’d be pleased Scarlett found it.
Scarlett smiled to herself. She’d let grandma sleep a little bit longer, then show her the earring. She started on her math homework to take up some time. After she’d done several problems, she decided she couldn’t wait anymore. Besides, she wanted some cookies and if she was lucky, she’d be able to help grandma bake them.
“Grandma?” Scarlett called softly, tapping on the bedroom door. No answer. She cracked the door open. Grandma was in bed, turned facing away from the door. Scarlett tip-toed inside. Sometimes, grandma was a little hard of hearing.
“Grandma,” Scarlett said louder. She reached out and shook her shoulder. Grandma didn’t move.
Scarlett shook her a bit harder, turning her on her back. Her face turned towards Scarlett. Scarlett screamed. Blood... There was blood on her grandma’s face.
“Grandma!” Scarlett screamed, shaking her harder. No answer, no movement. Sobbing, Scarlett reached for the phone on grandma’s nightstand. She’d call 911, then she’d call her dad at work. There was a sound behind her. The bedroom door slammed.
Scarlett whirled. She screamed again. There was a man in the room. He’d been standing behind the door the whole time. She’d seen him before, hanging around her school. He’d scared her then, with his dark eyes and smirk. Now, Scarlett was beyond terror.
He crossed the room in two steps on his long legs. The last thing Scarlett saw was the man’s cold smirk and his sharp, white teeth. The last thing she heard was the sick sound of the man’s chortle. She wondered if anyone could hear her screaming as the man’s fist drew back and slammed into her head. The world went black.
Sawyer sauntered down the street, his hands in his pockets. He was cold in his t-shirt, but he was too stubborn to go back home for his jacket. His wavy blond hair fell in his eyes. He didn’t have anything in particular to do, but wandering the streets sure beat doing homework and listening to his parents fight. It wasn’t exactly safe to walk these streets, but he was fourteen years old and nothing could touch him.
He thought briefly about going to one of his friend’s houses, but he decided not to. He found his feet carrying him towards the park. He could sit on the swings and watch the teenagers sell each other drugs.
Suddenly, Sawyer heard a scream coming from one of the houses. That wasn’t unusual for this neighborhood. Lately, there’d been a string of racist crimes, just to add on to the neighborhood’s usual problems of gang violence, drugs, and domestic abuse. Something felt wrong about this scream, though. Even worse than usual. It was a child, he was sure.
He frowned. It sounded as if the screaming was coming from the white and green house. That was Scarlett’s grandmother’s house! Sawyer knew the little girl well. She and her parents lived two houses down from him, and he knew that Scarlett went to her grandmother’s every day after school. In all his years of playing with her, he’d never known her to scream like that. Something was wrong.
Pocketknife in hand, he ran across the road and slipped into the house. The screams had stopped suddenly, but somehow, that thought didn’t comfort Sawyer. He crept through the house, his heavy brown boots somehow managing to make little noise on the carpet. He could hear the noise of something being dragged in the back room. He paused outside the door, leaning against the wall, gathering his courage.
He slid into the wall. Disgust filled his stomach. There was a tall, thin man in the room. He was pulling the limp body of Scarlett’s grandmother out of the bed. Scarlett lay facedown on the floor, her long, dark spilling out around her. She looked so small. Anger raged through him. He gripped the pocketknife hard in his fist.
There was a crashing noise as the body of Scarlett’s grandmother hit the carpet. The man turned then to Scarlett, kneeling beside her and rolling her onto her back and brushing the dark hair from her face. Sawyer saw blood trickling out of a gash on her head. The man wiped the blood onto his fingers, then licked it off. Sawyer’s lips pulled back from his teeth. Never had he felt such revulsion and rage.
He crossed the room quickly and quietly. He held the knife to the man’s throat.
“Get the hell away from her,” Sawyer growled. Then he sprang, latching onto the man’s back and pressing the knife harder against the throat. The man stood, but Sawyer held on. He threw an elbow backwards, trying to dislodge Sawyer, but to no avail.
Sawyer drew the knife, cutting into the man’s flesh. The man gasped and fell to his knees. Sawyer climbed off his back and shoved the man backwards. He held the knife against his jugular.
“I’m not going to kill you,” gasped Sawyer, “Even though it’s what you deserve.”
He reached for the lamp on the nightstand and brought it down on the man’s head. The man went limp.
Sawyer turned to Scarlett.
“Scarlett,” he said gently, “Wake up, Scarlett.”
She was still breathing, only knocked out from a blow to the head. He wasn’t sure about her grandmother, though. He leaned in close to the old lady’s face to feel a faint breath on his cheek. He put a finger to her neck. Her pulse was steady, though weaker than it should be. Sawyer saw the phone on the floor. Little Scarlett must have tried to call for help.
He picked it up, dialed 911, and gave them the details. He crouched beside Scarlett, touching the dry tears on her cheek. The girl moaned a bit, and he thought he saw her eyelids flicker.
“Scarlett?” he called to her gently. He put his arms beneath her back and lifted her to a sitting position and held her there.
“Scarlett!” he repeated. She groaned again, this time stirring a bit. Finally her eyes flickered open. She looked around, dazed.
“Sawyer?” she mumbled.
“It’s all right, Scarlett,” Sawyer said, holding her to him, “Everything will be all right.”
“Grandma!”
“She’ll be all right,” said Sawyer, “She’s breathing, and the police are on their way.”
“What happened?” she mumbled, but then she remembered. “Never mind. I know what happened.”
Tears leaked out of her eyes, and she started to shake.
“Why?” she whispered, “Why would someone....”
“Shh,” said Sawyer, “It’ll be all right.”
The police arrived and questioned Sawyer about everything that had happened. Scarlett was completely awake by this time and told her part of the story before the ambulance took her and her grandma to the hospital. Both of then were released the next day with no serious complications.
The man who had attacked them, Bob Gordon, was already a suspect in the disappearance of another child. Nothing had been proven. However, because of Scarlett, he was found guilty and sentenced to life in prison.
Sawyer was regarded as a local hero, at least for a while. The story was in the paper and on the local news. It eventually made its way to the national news, but Sawyer was glad when it all settled down again. All the extra attention made him nervous.
As for Scarlett, she recovered. She went back to school, fell back into routine. But still, always lurking in the back of her mind, was that man. Sometimes, when she closed her eyes at night, she could see his cold eyes. Now she knew. She knew that people like him were out there, and you could never be sure that you were safe. Anywhere you turned, someone evil could be there, waiting for you. Scarlett was never quite the same, carefree girl again.
Still, life went on, and life goes on. It’s a hard lesson that everyone has to learn, that evil is out there, ready to rob the innocent.
