Short Story - Mending Wall - Grant Eagar

To order my books:

 Angelica: The Princess and the Pig  

Henry and Sophie: A Steampunk Adventure 

Sheila the Vampire: Dancing with the Enemy

Prompt: Mending Wall by Robert Frost. 

Before I built a wall I'd ask to know What I was walling in or walling out, 

 

Seth sat at his desk in the back of his sixth-period math class. He was doodling in his notebook, creating a picture of his favorite monster, Rachel. He glanced over at Rachel Johnson, who was a pretty, ginger-haired girl, sitting in the opposite corner. In middle school, she had tormented him, well, sort of tormented him; stealing his tatter tots, stealing his hat, and calling him mutton head. In the past, she had been kind of a friend and kind of an enemy, but definitely annoying. It had been several years since they had had a class together.

She smiled at him. He blushed and quickly averted his eyes, then focused on his desk. He should have smiled in return, waved, or done anything other than simply looking away. Is this how you reward someone who is reaching out to you? What a dope. Could he trust her? She had made him look the fool before. He glanced at the picture he had drawn, closed his eyes, and envisioned the wall again. Would it hold? Would Rachel stay on her side? God forbid she should cross over. She was reported to be a savage and terrible beast, a monster of malicious intent.

He sighed and placed a shaking hand on the mythical wall to see if it was secure. He could sense it crumbling under her terrible barrage of blows; relentless creature that she was. If she broke through, all would be lost, or would it? It would end his solitary existence, his comfortable tomb, his season of quiet.

After another blow from her great spiked tail, the wall came tumbling down. The tall, horned creature stepped over the fallen debris and approached him. He stumbled backwards, and she pursued him. Would she devour him or simply torture him? Would his death be swift and painless or slow and cruel? He shook with terror and ran. She kept pace with him with her long, powerful legs. He glanced back, and she grinned at him with her pointy teeth. "Seth, you may run, but I will have you. You will be mine." 

 Just then, the late bell rang. Seth looked up from his desk and cautiously glanced about. Rachel adjusted her hair to hide her horns, then shyly smiled at him and waved. She did not have pointy teeth after all. He forced a smile and took a deep breath of courage, then waved in return. He picked up his books, stepped over the mythical wall, walked over, and sat next to her.

She asked, “What were you drawing?”

He smiled and showed her the picture. “A portrait of you.”

She grinned. “I like the pointy teeth and the spikey tail.”