It’s time for another Micro-Fiction Monday. Because today’s story is a little longer than normal, I’ll be dividing it in two. You can find Part Two here tomorrow. Now don’t be afraid… This is only fiction…
BEWARE YOUR WISHES
By: Rachel A. Carrera
Wet clay smeared on Samantha’s forehead as she wiped her face with her forearm. She stood back and tilted her head as she examined the sculpture she was creating, then she sighed. “Something’s just not right. The eyes are too far apart.” Just then, her studio door burst open, and her triplets ran in. She spun around and gasped.
Rebekah scrunched her face. “Mommy, tell Marcus to stop chasing us! He’s ruining our game.”
Marcus scowled. “I am not! Besides, it’s a stupid game anyway!”
Macie narrowed her eyes. “Yeah, well you’re stupid!” She stuck out her tongue.
Marcus bowed up his chest and lunged at his sister. “I am not!”
The girls held hands as they stood side by side. “You are, too!”
Samantha swiped her hand over her face. “Kids! That’s enough!”
Marcus yanked a fistful of Macie’s hair then ran to the other side of the sculpture. “I am not!”
The girls chased him. “You are, too! Marcus is stupid! Marcus is stupid!”
Samantha felt heat rise to her face as her cheeks flushed. “Kids, stop it!”
The triplets raced around Samantha and the sculpture two more times until Marcus bumped it. He stopped in his tracks and jumped backward as it fell to the floor into a wet lump. His chin quivered as he choked out an apology. “I – I’m sorry, Mommy.”
Rebekah folded her arms and smirked. “See. You wouldn’t have done that if you weren’t so stupid!”
Samantha scowled and clenched her hands into fists. “Look what you’ve done! I want every one of you to go upstairs to your rooms and take a nap!” She gestured to the open door.
Macie poked out her lip and pouted. “But Marcus started it.”
Samantha knelt by the mess and clutched two handfuls of wet clay. She tried to compose herself as she narrowed her eyes at the children. “Yeah, well, I don’t care who started it! I’m going to finish it! I have a deadline in three days to have this piece done in time for the grand re-opening of the cancer center where your daddy died, and now I’m going to have to start all over again. I don’t even have enough clay. I’m going to clean this mess up and take a shower, and as soon as you three take a nap, we’re going to drive to the art supply store, and you will behave. Do you understand me?”
“Yes, ma’am.” The triplets remained somber as they headed out of the studio.
Samantha stifled the urge to sob as she began cleaning the mess. She knew if she allowed herself to cry, she might never be able to stop. She mumbled as she pulled the garbage can closer. “I swear, sometimes, I wish I didn’t have kids at all. When Michael was alive, he could keep them entertained while I worked, but it seems like every time I turn around, they’re getting into something–”
She cringed and looked over her shoulder. “What happened?”
“Macie did it!”
“I didn’t mean to! It was an accident!”
Samantha squeezed her eyes closed and took a deep breath. “Go get in bed, all of you! And don’t touch anything!” She huffed and cracked her neck, then stood. When she made her way out to the corridor, she found her favorite vase in pieces on the floor. Her hand covered her mouth, and tears welled in her eyes. Why can’t you kids just leave me alone? I just want some time to myself to get things done around here.
* * *
Time to talk: Can you imagine raising young triplets all by yourself? Have you ever known triplets? How about twins? Have you ever sculpted anything?