“Homesick” by Holly Sheidenberger
Something smells foul. My sense of dread grows as the noxious odor fills my nostrils.
Suddenly a rock smacks into my shoulder. I stagger backwards, clutching at the hot, searing pain.
That’s when I see the Beast.
Our eyes lock. I’m paralyzed, frightened by his disturbingly human-like gaze.
His huge hairy hands grab my throbbing shoulders and drop me into a deep, dark hole.
I am captive.
He brings me raw meat each morning and sleeps next to me at night.
He is not cruel, but he smells.
Finally, I escape. I run, desperate for the sanctuary of home.
But my story is received with taunts, jeers, ridicule, and suspicion. They whisper that I am stupid and crazy.
I am shamed, a fool. I want to hide.
I am homesick for that deep, dark hole. I think I miss the Beast.