Happy Holidays (Revised)

Here's the revised version of my story for my creative writing class. I hope to improve my grade through an improved story. I think it's better anyway.

Some time ago a little girl sat in the corner of her living room hiding. The blinds were drawn and a fire burned in the hearth while the warm, dry air cut into the girl’s skin. A young boy sat, dressed in blue one-piece pajamas among a sea of toys under a plastic tree. Christmas lights draped on the tree still flickered with life while the boy chirped and threw his toys about, his little body almost buried among them. The father sat in his recliner by the fire reading a newspaper. He looked at both of his children, smiled and arose. Putting his paper down on the coffee table, he left the room.

As he walked, he waved to his daughter and told her, “Cassandra, look after your brother. I’ll be right back.”

Cassandra didn’t acknowledge him and continued to sit still and quiet. She watched her father’s smile as darkness filled his eyes and rolled down his face; it oozed out of the sides of his mouth. She felt the darkness; a cold sweat dampened her clothes, so she shivered.

Once he left she whispered, “He hates me.”

The little boy played, and took notice of his sister. He picked himself up, waddled over to her corner, and stood pigeon-toed in front of her.

The boy barked at his sister, “Play!”

She didn’t respond. She refused to look at him. He meowed, “Play.”

Cassandra shot a sideways glance at her brother and said, “No Elliot, leave me alone.”

Her gaze sent a shiver up the little boy’s spine so he turned and said, “No fun.”

The boy sauntered back to his nest of toys under the tree, and taking up a model car he ran it along the carpet. The boy smiled. He chucked the car and nailed his sister in the head. She growled as he cackled. Studying him out of the corner of her eye, she saw a blue furred hyena with a wild tuft of hair on its head laughing at her and bearing its fangs. It tossed another car her way, all the while laughing and dancing in the middle of the room.

Soon the animal circled around its sister with hunger in its eyes with drool flopping from its mouth. She prayed it would call off its attack hoping it would go away, but instead the hyena smiled as it drew closer and lunged. She gave it a quick look; her hollow eyes pierced its soul. Cassandra made a pass at the menace and shoved him once, forcing the animal backwards as it lost balance. It smashed its head on the coffee table on its way down. The animal found it hard to move, its joints froze and the boy’s body hardened up resembling stone. Its body fell forward following the blow from the table and hit the ground with a heavy thud. The drool turned to foam as its body morphed to stone while Cassandra stood and kneeled by her brother.

She whispered, “Now you know how I feel about you.”

She got up straight and surveyed the room. The fire heated up and the warm, tan room melted away. The paint on the walls flowed down onto the floor; the plastic tree rendered a green-brown puddle along with all of the furniture. The room disappeared down a drain in the center of the floor while only concrete remained.

It was hot. Cassandra removed her green and red sweater, throwing it to the ground. As her sweater went down the drain, it chased after the room gone before it. With a burst, the window broke open and a cold wind swept the room sucking the fire back out the window. Cassandra sat huddled and shivering.

Footsteps approached, and each drop echoed in Cassandra’s ears, rattling her brain. Cassandra looked for an escape, looking towards the two open doors on either side of the room. The sound of footsteps came from the door in front of her, so she turned and went out the other way. Leaned up against the cold concrete Cassandra pushed along as the lights bore down on her. She shielded her eyes but the hall twisted and turned, forcing her to sway with the motions, in an attempt to keep balance.

A flood of light gave way to another concrete room with a steel table and three chairs decorating the area. A plate of eggs waited in front of one of the seats, so Cassandra took the seat and chewed on the meal. It was cold and the food tasted off. A dark window watched over the room which Cassandra avoided looking at it best she could because someone on the other side watched her and studied her. She glanced once to see who and saw a girl looking back, a prisoner in the mirror. She had red hair tied back in ponytails and sat at a table similar to her own, and she turned away as she herself did. Cassandra then ate slowly.

The footsteps returned, prompting Cassandra to spin in her chair to see down the hall from where she came, but there was no time to escape. A black stream entered the room and pooled on the floor under the table, forcing Cassandra to lift her feet onto her chair. From the door, a dark form took shape, its claws dug into the door frame and its face blood red as fire danced in its eyes. The demon entered the room and rounded the table, dominating the area and towering over Cassandra. Its eyes bled while it coddled something in its hands.

Cassandra trembled and asked, “W . . . who are you?”

The demon responded, “What do you mean who am I? I’m your god damned father, that’s who.”

“Am I at that place again? I don’t want to be here.”

“No Cassandra you’re at home. But don’t worry you won’t have to be here for very long as you’re going back to the asylum. You have any more questions?”

“Why are you holding that fuzzy rock?”

The demon roared, shaking Cassandra. It pounded the table with its free arm and coughed black spit, covering Cassandra.

Cassandra said, “I don’t wanna go. Why do I have to go?”

The demon spoke and Cassandra discerned its words in between its sobs, “Because I told you to watch your brother but you didn’t do as you were told.”

Cassandra responded, “I did watch him.”

The demon told Cassandra she’d go back to the asylum immediately. Cassandra’s heart sunk. She said after she shot forward in her chair, “No Dad, no! Anywhere but there, don’t take me back to that place. It’s cold. I’ll be good.”

The demon shook and yelled, “That’s not the issue here Cassandra!”

It paused for a moment, “Those doctors said the medicine I’ve been giving you would be enough to keep shit like this from happening. I thought it was a load of bull, so I stopped giving it to you. That was a mistake.”

Cassandra wrapped her arms around the chair, “No . . . I’m not going.”

The dark pool around the chair turned red. Cassandra looked up to see the demon in flames as it lunged at her. She put her arms up in defense but the demon grabbed her by one arm and yanked her out of her seat. She tumbled onto the floor, but got back to her feet as the dark figure dragged her along, its fingers digging into her arm and its touch searing her skin.

Pulled through the hall, Cassandra’s feet dragged along the floor as the concrete walls closed in around her. Her breathing quickened. The demon, fuzzy stone in one hand and girl in the other stopped before the front door which had a small window set far above Cassandra’s line of sight, but she saw the crimson sun spilling out of the sky into the hall. The demon rooted about itself with its free hand, searching. It shoved its daughter out of the way and opened a closet next to the front door pulling out a kiddy carrier and strapping its son into the seat.

The demon said, “I can’t find the car keys, I need to go look for them. Stay right here. Got it?”

She sat down against the wall and pouted. Tears welled in her eyes.

As the demon went away to retrieve its keys, it coughed and told her what the doctors told him of her condition. He told his daughter she was a danger to her self and others and said she’d be best served locked back up in the asylum from where she came. The doctors knew better how to handle such a problem as Cassandra.

The demon said, “He didn’t do this to himself, right? You hurt your brother right?

Cassandra cried; her sobs carried along the hall, “No . . . yes . . . I don’t know.”

The demon growled and forced Cassandra to look at her brother. She wanted to turn away but he didn’t allow it as he wanted her to see what she did.

Not knowing what else to do, Cassandra turned to her brother comatose in his safety seat and ran her fingers through his tuft of hair, apologizing to him. The demon stopped and turned around to face its daughter; it said, “Don’t you dare touch him! Keep to yourself or so help me God I’ll . . .”

She whimpered; her father marched up and backhanded her. She went silent.

The demon went back down the hall and said, “We have to go to the hospital first. Count yourself lucky we don’t go straight to that place.”

Cassandra said back, “Dad, I’m sorry.”

The father reached the exit to the kitchen; he said, “No, you’re not.”

Returning with the keys, the demon took the child carrier in one hand while picking up his daughter and tossing her over his shoulder with the other all in one fluid motion. He opened the door and carried Cassandra, who kicked and screamed, into the cold.