Hello everybody and welcome to another Writing Wednesday. The idea of this is I am going to write about whatever subject has inspired me this week.
Everybody is welcome to join in, of course, and you can do that by either writing something in the comments or giving me a pingback to your work. (It goes without saying that you should feel free to share your work if you get the urge to do so!)
What am I going to use as my inspiration this week?
- The writing prompt… I stood by the graveside. We were burying Uncle Eric. Again. (Judith Field, United Kingdom)
It’s just the time of year
Every year it is the same thing.
You see, years ago after the 20family was cursed by a witch. It meant that our lives with something like Groundhog Day, only instead of a day, we had to live a year of our lives over and over again. It wasn’t like we were ever able to change anything so it seemed that there was no way out. Long ago we had become resigned to the fact that we were going to have to keep living this for an unspecified amount of time.
The which had never given a timescale for which our family was going to suffer. I don’t even know what we had done to provoke it because I was only nine years old. I wasn’t the one who did anything and it is not like anyone will ever admit to doing anything that upset the which enough to cause her to cast this curse on everybody.
Mind you, it was always interesting to see the developments of the growing world. The changes between the time that we were cursed and the modern day was quite astounding. In some rather strange way, I was almost glad that I was left alive to witness these changes. On the other hand, I really wanted to grow up and experience all of the things that the adults were going through. In appearances, I was only nine, but in actuality I was actually centuries old. It seemed unfair that I was going to live forever as a young girl.
But everything always stayed the same. When my cousins would meet the same girl and get married in winter. In spring, my brother would become a father to a beautiful boy who would never experience his first birthday. In summer, my sister would turn 18 and there would be a big party where each year we all hoped that we would all live on without the reset. In fall, uncle Eric would be killed by some freak accident and we would have to go to his funeral.
Then, just before Christmas we would wake up and find ourselves in January ready to start a year over again. We never did get to celebrate Christmas.
Every year everybody tried to save uncle Eric because it was the only thing that happened that we could see a change was possible. Sadly, we all failed miserably in every single attempt. If we made him stay at home then he would die there. Even if we accompanied him, something would seem to happen that would see us all standing by this ever familiar graveside.
This time of year was soul destroying.
And yet, year after year we would be standing here in our own states of despair. We have stopped mourning uncle Eric along time ago, now we were just mourning the fact that we had no future.
We never knew the name of the witch that cursed us. As that had been during the period of the witch trials it seemed very unlikely that she would have survived. Even if she had, I doubt she would want to lift this curse that has been handed down because of something someone else had done. It all seemed so unfair.
However, that was the day that something did change. This time my father took out the gun and shot my mother in the back of her head. As she crumpled to the floor we all felt the change and realized that we were actually going to live out of lives in this modern area. Well, except for my mother of course as she now lay dead on top of uncle Eric’s coffin.
“It was her,” my dad whispered as he heard approaching sirens. One of the other people at the ceremony who was not part of our family had called the police it seemed. “It wasn’t a curse but a wish that Miranda had made recklessly. She didn’t want any of you to grow up and this was the result. She blurted it out last night when we were preparing for the funeral. Sorry, but I could not take it any longer and had to try to end the never-ending cycle.”
I stared blankly at the body resting on the coffin. I know wager developed something like grief because she was gone but the realization that the never-ending cycle had all been because of her left me feeling nothing but anger. Looking at the family I could see that everybody was feeling the same way.
It was a shame that uncle Eric was not alive to see everybody growing up. At least we were never going to have to bury him again. The relief was just about palpable. My father was taken away by the police and the rest of us went about our lives. I was placed in the custody of my brother, and my baby nephew that was finally going to make it to his first birthday.
People never understood why our family did nothing but smile on the day of uncle Eric’s funeral and on mothers death. They never would understand what it meant to grow up.