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WARNING: Stories on this site may contain mature language and situations, and may be inappropriate for readers under the age of 18.

HOW TO BREAK A BRIDGE By Emilia Backes
September 5, 2012  Short stories   

London Bridge is broken down,

Falling down, falling down.

London Bridge is falling down,

My fair Baby.

I could talk about London and what is happening there, but it doesn’t matter anymore, as I only remember it by the ash that drifts through the air once and awhile. We don’t even mind it nowadays as it has begun to look like snow, and we miss snow. I would rather tell you about the countryside and the pretty little house that we found on a hill. It has cleanly cut green grass that tickled our bodies as we rolled around in it like it was money. Lily said that and it made me laugh because I thought of you and how rich and happy I know you’ll be once everything settles down and you grow up big and strong. Anyways, about the house. It’s so adorable, something I know you’ll like once you open your eyes. It is small and triangular and trimmed with white that looks like clouds against an eggshell blue. It has three windows that are illuminated by candles. There was a woman in there but don’t worry, she’s not there anymore. Henry got rid of her for us. They buried her in the garden out back, underneath some tomato plants that will do much better now that she’s there.

They said we could stay here for awhile because they weren’t around. That’s why I left London with you. I guess I should tell you about London now, there’s no use hiding it from you. I covered your ears so you couldn’t hear the moans of those things as they tried to break into our car as we swerved around all those other cars that didn’t work any more and were crashed into trees and other people. I couldn’t let them leave their blood all over the leather seats. I wish they would just wake up and stop gnashing their teeth and clawing at doors. David says they’re not dead at all, even though Lily thought they were. I don’t know who to believe because they look like they’re falling apart, with their stuffing showing through their seams, yet they walk around and make noises and eat alot. Mrs. Rimbaud ate your Daddy. I covered your eyes as she tore through his arm. He yelled at us to get away and I ran and ran while, through the ripped screen door, he bled on the couch and tried to shoot her with his Wetherby that was really for killing deer, not humans. I think he missed but I was too afraid and I was worried about you. I didn’t have time to grab your stuffed bunny from your cradle, but I made you a new one. Henry found it in the woods and we ate the stuffing but I got to keep the outside. There’s no more blood and I sewed it back up with sawdust. It’s starting to smell and fall apart, so I suppose I should get you a new one. I’ll ask Henry. Maybe he can get you a bear next time.

Build it up with silver and gold,

Silver and gold, silver and gold,

Build it up with silver and gold,

My fair Baby.

I know it’s been awhile and I couldn’t sit with you and rock you like I used to do. You were funny today; instead of calling me “Mommy,” you called me “Hannah.” That made me smile because I don’t know where you heard my name from. Everyone around here calls me “Crazy.” Henry is trying to take you away from me, saying it’s unhealthy for me to keep you and that you’re wasting time and resources. I don’t believe that. However, he got a frightening look on his face and kicked over your basket while you were sleeping. I told him I got rid of you, but I really had to hide you in the barn that is by the house which is really much better for you. The hay is warmer than the sheets we found in the house and there are birds in there to sing to you. I pretend that I’m sad because you’re gone, but inside I just smile because you’re still alive and you’re a secret, which makes you even better. I used to think that pretending was the same as lying, but now I think it’s just different way to deal with the truth. I have to go, but you should pretend you are back at home, safe and sound and I will pretend everything is fine.

Silver and gold will be stolen away,

Stolen away, stolen away,

Silver and gold will be stolen away,

My fair Baby.

I haven’t been able to see you in a week and I was afraid you would have gotten restless and left me. But I’m so happy to see you here. Everyone back at the house is panicking because they see a bunch of them coming over the hill. The air smells like what the city used to smell like; cottage cheese, lettuce, meat, and milk…after being left in the sun for awhile during a picnic. I guess it’s worse than that, but I like the thought of those things more than the thought of putrid flesh falling off bones and bloated corpses that explode on the streets and leave thick tears of blood running down everyone’s faces. I can hear someone outside the barn. I don’t want to leave you here because I think the things from the city are coming towards us. I am carrying you out of the barn now, but I can’t find my way back to the house. The smell is nauseating and all I can see is shadows moving in the dark and the black, black sky hanging over us like it’s attached to fraying ropes. The hands on my shoulders are not Henry’s or Lily’s or David’s or your Daddy’s or anyone else’s. There are so many of them and they’re cold and wet and leave slime all over me and you. They pull at my hair and draw me to their faces like they’re trying to speak to me. Once I can’t stand anymore I’ll cover you up so they can’t get you, I promise. I love you baby.

~ ~ ~

“That was a close one. I thought they were headed for the house, but they’re just swarming around that barn. Maybe there are some cows left in there or something?”

“I don’t think so…I thought Hannah checked last week. Remember, when she went to get rid of that thing.”

“Come on Henry, I can’t believe you made her leave her doll in the woods. She loved it!”

“Oh please Lily, Hannah is absolutely insane. It wasn’t healthy for her to carry around a doll and pretend like it was her child. She’s a grown woman who just has to accept that her real baby’s dead and get on with life. The rest of us have managed that much!”

“Be nice! I heard her husband shot her baby, and tried to shoot her too. You have to cut her a break.”

“We’ve all gone through something. There’s no use using in pretending things are any different than they are, they only end up hurting more than they need to.”

“You’re cold, Henry. Anyways, she’s probably upstairs sleeping. I’ll go wake her up and tell her we’re safe for now, but we should move on as soon as we can.”

“Whatever. And I’m not cold. I simply accept the truth. Is that so wrong?”

 

God will keep us safe all night,

Safe all night, Safe all night

God will keep us safe all night,

My fair Baby

 

13 Comments

  1. Interesting story. I thought the doll was the baby, and it was a zombie.

    Comment by Kristen on September 5, 2012 @ 6:03 pm

  2. I also thought that the baby was a zombie child! Very cool story.

    Comment by Ashley on September 5, 2012 @ 7:28 pm

  3. Creepy but awesome.

    Comment by Terry on September 5, 2012 @ 8:50 pm

  4. Way to creep a guy out…hope you have more stories ^_^

    Comment by Ryan on September 5, 2012 @ 11:54 pm

  5. Very good. You pulled off the delusionment well. I, too, thought the baby was a zombie, then it appeared that maybe the mother was a zombie as well. Nice twist at the end.

    Comment by AJ Brown on September 6, 2012 @ 10:58 am

  6. Great story. Like all excellent short stories it gets you in and you dont want to look away. Good ending nice ,original, touch with the doll instead of a zombie.

    Comment by luke on September 6, 2012 @ 4:56 pm

  7. Disturbing! I like it!

    Comment by Retrobuck on September 7, 2012 @ 6:27 am

  8. Leave a comment

    Comment by bong on September 7, 2012 @ 2:29 pm

  9. Really tragic and after suffering so much trauma one after the other
    I really can’t blame some people if they lose it, in fact I expect it to happen in about 25% of the victims of a zombie apocalypse.
    just like what the others said, was expecting a zombie baby.
    Very good ploy by the writer and the story was both touching and terrifying at the same time
    sorry my cheap Chinese android tablet is acting up and I can’t edit after making a comment. touchscreen became fiddly and registering ghost taps

    Comment by bong on September 7, 2012 @ 2:38 pm

  10. I thought this was a beautiful, heartbreaking and touching story- and as a parent, I especially related to the protagonist. It’s far too rare that stories about the zombie apocalypse and its aftermath focus on human reactions to personal tragedies. More, please.

    Comment by Craig on September 8, 2012 @ 6:37 pm

  11. Good one

    Comment by Frank on September 12, 2012 @ 8:25 am

  12. I agree with Craig on it being “heartbreaking and touching”, though I’m hesitent to use ‘beautiful’ to describe such a tale of horror – insanity and eventually suicide by zombie, as I understand it, trying to hold on to those most precious things lost….

    Comment by JohnT on September 13, 2012 @ 5:44 am

  13. I really enjoyed this story, keep up the good work.

    Comment by Justin on October 8, 2012 @ 5:13 am

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