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The Hermit
by M
Cassie Martins slammed her book down on the table. “As if I need a
friend!” Cassie shouted.
Over the phone, a girl shouted back, “As if I need you!”
“Gaa!” Cassie retorted. She slammed down the receiver.
“Honey, if you don’t like Marsha now, don’t keep infuriating her,
she can live without you,” said a sugary-sweet voice from another
room.
“Mom, please, I can handle this myself,” 12-year-old Cassie
muttered. Cassie stepped out back of the house. Marsha, her ex-best
friend, was the only other kid in this rural area. Marsha and Cassie
had gotten into a fight last week. Cassie persisted in calling
Marsha to tell her how much she hated her. Presently, Cassie walked
into the dark forest behind her house.
“Stupid trees, stupid moss,” the girl mumbled. She then
noticed a worm on her hand. “Stupid worms!” she roughly flicked the
beast off of her hand. “Want a little more, you monster?” she
growled. Cassie stepped on the worm. She saw repulsive slime on her
sole. “Yuck!” Cassie yelled and tossed her loafer aside. “I’ll get
it on the way back,” she thought, slipping off the other shoe.
Cassie suddenly heard a loud roaring sound. Cassie realized that the
sound was of the rushing waters of Peterson Falls.
Cassie reached the waterfall at last. She took off her garments to
swim. “No one will see me,” she reasoned. Cassie had been swimming
contentedly for about 15 minutes, when she heard a voice. Cassie
turned around. A scruffy, disheveled man of around 40 was speaking.
“Yaw’ little young un’ swimming buff,” he taunted hoarsely.
“Get out of here, you old creep!” Cassie exclaimed, her heart
racing.
She swiftly snatched her attire and ran. A trap abruptly caught
Cassie’s bare foot. She was suspended upside down from a rope.
“I am a cannibal,” snickered the man callously.
“Go away!” Cassie yelled, “Help!”
The man flicked open a pocketknife. “It won’t hurt. I need you,
don’t you understand?” snarled the man quietly. “I feed on
people-there aren’t any flora and fauna to eat in these woods.”
Cassie screamed. Jumping forward, the man shouted, “Be quiet!”
“Let me go!” Cassie screamed, “You can eat Marsha Corlins!”
“Who?” the man asked.
“My old friend Marsha, you can eat her, I swear,” said Cassie.
“Okay,” the hermit replied, “Bring her tonight.”
The man cut Cassie’s rope and she ran away. She did not tell her
parents about what had occurred in the forest.
At around 8:00 that night, Cassie went to Marsha’s house and knocked
on her bedroom window. Marsha, a brunette, opened the window.
“I decided that I like you again,” Cassie lied, “Why don’t you come
for a walk in the forest?”
“Oh, sorry, but I can’t tonight,” Marsha replied.
“Come on, Marsha, you have to,” pleaded Cassie.
“But I have to go to the theater,” Marsha explained.
“ Marsha, time to go!” Marsha’s mother called.
Cassie went home, worried. The next morning, Cassie looked at the
newspaper, and nearly puked. The headline read: TRAGIC THEATER
SHOOTING KILLS FIVE.
The newspaper article elucidated that Marsha, her father, and
three other people had been shot in the theater. The killer was a
woman whose children had been killed in a car wreck recently. Her
husband had left and had become a hermit in the nearby woods. Rumor
had it that her husband was a cannibal.
Cassie screamed, “Everything has a purpose!” Cassie screamed again.
“Everything has a purpose,” she repeated until she fell asleep in
shock.
For the rest of Cassie’s life, that phrase remained an emblem of
truth and virtue to live by forever.
THE END
©07/08/08 Share this
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