Children with a Leash – Paranoia #245

Posted on August 6, 2011


Alright, the oldest one says, you can run around in the snow now.

I look at the ten children with suspicion, like a dog being released from a cage. Then I bolt across the snow.

The three youngest ones clap with joy. Look at him go, says the middle child.

I have been locked up for two years in the house with these ten kids that I am responsible for. I can’t remember where they came from. They just showed up one day and took over.

I find the closet tree and I stop and look back at the ten children watching me, slowly moving in my direction. One of them has my leash and I gesture at the tree with amazement. Look, I say. It’s a tree! It’s a beautiful tree.

Go ahead, they say. Don’t be shy!

First I snap a piece of bark off the tree and I eat it. Oh god, I think, this is sooooo good. The ten children have been feeding me nothing but ramen noodles. I climb the tree and snow falls to the ground as I disturb the limbs.

Okay, the oldest shouts. That’s high enough. Don’t fall.

Look, I scream down. Look at me! I’m in a tree! I’m outside and in a tree and there is snow on the ground and I just ate some bark!

There are neighbors outside walking their dogs or children or shoveling snow. I feel embarrassed immediately and grab snow and eat some and then hide my face in the rest of it.

Time to go in, the children yell up at me.

I immediately clutch the tree with a death grip. No, I yell.

Come on, they say.

No, I say.

The oldest children go to get an axe. I try very hard to become invisible. When that doesn’t work, I climb higher. There are only so many options for escape. Can I flap my arms and fly? Can I wrestle the axe from the children when I hit the ground? More importantly, where are these children’s parents whom I hate so much?

Posted in: Year 1: Paranoia