Board Thread:Writer's Workshop/@comment-24713615-20140627010626

  On a long street in the suburbs of a tired city, a woman sat swaying on a cushioned bench on the porch of her home. She did not stroke a cat in her bony arms, nor display an expression of pleasure across her sunken face, but instead stared strangely across the street at seemingly nothing.

  Those around her, neighbors and the community's children alike, noticed the unusual habits of this woman. They judged her appearance: looking at the beads of her eyes, the downward wrinkles around her mouth, the tattoo that was etched on her right cheek; three bones that crossed each other.

  They failed to notice her injured leg, left in an uncleaned cast for what seemed like decades. The young often pointed and made fun of her statuesque appearance, while parents pulled them from behind and told them that she was nothing more than mentally unstable. She grew cold from their security over their kin.

  “ Look, it's Bones, doing what she does best; nothing!” The teenagers would remark, yelling back and forth with their amused friends.

  Although she did not flinch, only moving to step inside the house for a necessity such as food or water, she heard everything that everyone said. She knew that each person that noticed her still figure on a hot summer day, or a frigid night in winter, thought that she was a nutcase who had no better sense to do anything than stare at nothing.

  But nothing was the exact opposite of what she was doing. What was going on her head was what was so important; what she knew would make all the children's smiles fall off their faces like acorns. The only thing that distracted her from her determined watch were vehicles, the tires circling around, their weight drifting off along the road. She would grudgingly feel a shutter, that would melt away when she concentrated again on her spot across the street.

  She hobbled back outside with her cane after completing a meal or using the bathroom, taking her seat back in her chair, watching. She would watch and watch all day long, forgetting about time. The sun was an old friend, the moon her new father. She knew both well and stuck her wrapped leg out to let it soak in the light. No matter if it was bright and hot, or mellow and cold, she did not mind. It felt good.

  A young couple walked past one summer day, when it was particularly cooler. The boy wore saggy jeans, a belt hung around his waist serving as useful as a wrong key. His hair was light brown and unkempt, a white shirt falling just high enough where his boxers could be seen. The girl had long, black hair, and wore heavy makeup. She pointed at the woman with a painted nail, the other hand intertwined with the boys and screamed, “ Bones is hard at work again!”

  The boy turned his head with the widest grin, jabbing the girl in the ribs lightly with his elbow, “ Sure is, maybe if she stares hard enough that pile of bones will finally appear!”

  They both laughed and moved onward, almost instantaneously falling back into normal conversation. What they didn't see what that Bones had shifted her eyes so that she watched them travel down the sidewalk. They didn't even turn back for a second glance.

  The woman re-fixated her vision on her usual spot across the street, at a home that appeared to be locked up tight. Most people believed that no one had lived there for a long time, that it was available to buy but that simply no one wanted it. As usual, everyone's assumptions were wrong. The home belonged to the woman, and she watched it at nearly all times, staring in through a small window in the front.

  The young couple would walk by a couple times a week as the summer drone on. The tired town grew even more exhausted with each day. Finally, on a day nearing the end of the hot season, the couple came by for a last time. They noticed Bones sitting mechanically on her swinging bench, fixed on her spot across the road. They decided it wouldn't hurt to have a little fun.

  “ Let's go and see Bones!” The boy said, as if he was a child wanting to play with some toy trucks.

  The girl nodded enthusiastically and both bounded up the walkway so that they could get a closer look. They traveled up the wooden steps and onto the porch, until they were right next to the woman.

  “ How is Bones, today?” Asked the girl, sitting down next to her still frame.

  As expected, she didn't answer. She was thinking, the gears of her mind turning at a rapid pace the last couple weeks.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;">  “ What does she stare at all day?” The boy wondered aloud, staring ahead too. He noticed the house and looked to his girlfriend, an idea forming in his mind.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;">  “ Hey Bones, let's go see that house!”

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;">  And as if she was a heavy piece of furniture, the boy and girl lifted her up by the arms, her cane in hand, and started to lead her to the abandoned home.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;">  “ You look at it all the time, you must just wanna go there?” The boy said condescendingly.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;">  The girl giggled from the other side. They crossed the street and traveled across the old home's front yard. The grass was dying and yellowing, curling to the sides. The three of them, the woman being carried along, reached the doorway.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;">  The woman continued to stare forward. Her lips twitched.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;">  “ Let me just...” The boy brought up a hand and rapped on the door. For the first time, the woman moved, reaching a hand into a pocket in her pants. Her wrist swerved up towards the lock on the door. She turned the inserted key slowly, until the three of them heard a click.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;">  “ So this is your place?” The young girl spoke, obviously confused, looking warily now towards her partner. The woman still did not speak.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;">  The boy shrugged and pulled open the door, closing it behind the trio.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;">  The home was dark and dirty, dust on the counters, mud covering the floors. They walked into the kitchen. Pans and stained bowls sat in the sink, dead bugs sprawled on the dishes.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;">  “ Ew.” ,The girl plugged up her nose, “ It stinks in here.”

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;">  The couple seemed to forget the presence of the woman, who waited patiently for the two teenagers to walk on. They did, curiously passing a hallway that had an entryway that lead downstairs. They started to walk past, when Bones stuck out a hand as stiff as an iron bar, and stopped them. The couple once again eyed each other, now growing evermore anxious. Willingly, they traveled down the steps, unaware that they were tightening their grip on Bone's arms.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;">  “ What is that smell.” The boy moaned, gagging. The girl had to hold her breath to prevent from lurching forward. They turned a corner, leading to a long room without a door.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;">  The young couple let go of Bones. They choked on what they saw, shivering at the realization that what was before them was real. They grabbed each other and held on tight, their knees giving way so that all they had left were each other. The woman let the three bones on her cheek quiver with a smile. She walked towards the hanging bodies on the wall farthest, running an able finger on the skeleton of a man.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;">  She knew that it was not in vain, that what was here was her most prized possession; her proudest moment. She had nothing to be ashamed of, in fact, she was glad that she finally had the opportunity to show someone else her work, even if it was only for a second.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;">  It's left leg was missing three main areas of bones: the foot, the ankle, and the knee. Another decomposed body was strung up next to it, much smaller and fragile in build, a woman. The young couple could not run, could barely even scream as Bones approached them again. Something shined in her hand. The young couple molded into the floor like clay, begging her, pleading for her not to hurt them. They were so innocent, they did nothing wrong, they wanted to go home to their parents. The three bones on her cheek stretched. She moved down slowly with the blade.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;">  The sound was nothing to her, nothing more than the symphony of a thousand violins. It pleased her to hear, and she hummed along to the sound, feeling happiness surge through her for the first time in what seemed like a century. She sliced with no certainty of when she would stop. She was creating her masterpiece, art that she made an outline of for many days and nights.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;">  The woman set down the knife, the red staining her skin, nothing more to her than paint, the scene before her a mosaic of her hard work and suffering.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;">  Bones sat back on the ground, feeling young again.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;">  She counted the new, bleached structures in front of her.

<p style="margin-bottom:0in;">  1,2,3, 1,2,3  <ac_metadata title="Bones ( Creepypasta for review)"> </ac_metadata>