by TYLYN
Once, a girl lived in a lovely little town. People drove here and there, walked hitherto, sat around. Work was done, children were learned, and babies were made. People married, fought, and lived and died; for themselves and each other. But occasionally in the town, an occurrence came to be accepted by the residents, attracting few tourists.
A town’s secret, though it isn’t concealed all that well, or really at all.
The girl had been out for a stroll around her neighborhood when she felt her toes get a bit wet. She figured that she had just stepped into a little puddle and kept on going. The sun continued to shine. She was walking up a newly paved driveway when her big sister told her to remove her sandals.
“But we’re not at grandpa’s. Why?”
“Look at your feet.” When the girl saw her feet, she squealed. “Why is it red and thick and icky and…?!”
“Shut up. Calm down,” her sister ordered, “It’s just blood. Have you never seen it?’ The girl fumed.
“What do you mean by that? I’ve been with blood on my feet for HOURS.”
“It happens all the time lil sis. The mayor had that tested years ago because we all thought it was just oil. I don’t know how many people thought they had struck it rich. The greedy bastards…”
“Ewewew! Still gross!” The girl whined. Her elder sister went inside the house for some few moments before returning with a wet rag. She lobbed it to the girl, who sighed her gratitude and sat down to wipe away the blood on her feet. The sister grabbed a hose and turned it on. Water spurted to a powerful flow. She aimed it at the now-sullied driveway, smearing away blood as if it were ink on paper. She cleared her throat.
“As I was saying, the results of the test revealed it to be human blood. But they couldn’t match it to anyone. I’ve never seen so many people pale,” she laughed, “They so deserved it.” Having finally calmed down, the girl listened intently.
“Then, why did it start happening?”
“Nobody really knows. I like thinking that it’s supposed to be a reminder of the consequences of the human race’s pointless desire for bloodshed. After all, it happens randomly, and most of us have come to accept it, give or take a few nut jobs.”
“Well, what did the scientists think about it?”
“If memory serves well, they think it’s somethin’ like an overflow of blood in the ground.
Like it’s a sponge or somethin’.” “Wow.”
“Yep, the things you know. Now go and get some soap because this mess isn’t cleanin’ itself up. You made it,” the big sister said, dropping the hose, “It’s on you to deal with it.”
“Hey!”
“I don’t care.” While the girl scrambled after her sister, the hose kept on spewing water down the slope, now painting the crimson sketch of a mountainscape. And at its base rested a pool of blood swimming in water, a leaf floating on top.
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