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51

The Beast

the hem of her cotton nightgown. She could make out the distinct

screech of the front door and instinctively crouched, hidden in the

beige sea of wheat. The long strands swayed in the wind, lashing

softly across her face. The beast stumbled down the veranda, hunting

through the grass for its prey. A slurred guttural call emanated from

the back of its throat. ‘Sarah!’ the beast bayed, over and over again.

A memory arose in the little girl’s mind; she began to hear a faint

scream echo through her head. A ruckus in the lounge room had

awoken her in the night. She remembered Sarah, tears streaked

across her freckled face. She was yelling, her hazel eyes wild and her

arms flailing. Blonde hair fell out of her loose ponytail with every

angry shake, yet her straw hat held steady upon her head.

Sarah was screeching at the little girl’s father. He stood snarling,

heated by the acrimonious argument. A pile of worn leather bags

were snuggled securely by the doorway and Sarah stamped towards

them. Terror arose in her father’s chest and he snatched her arm,

baring his teeth, like a lion pouncing on its prey. Calm washed over

Sarah; her eyes pierced directly through the man as she firmly pushed

him away. He stumbled, winded by the shove. She now strode over to

collect her bags; grunting as she lifted the weight of her life’s

possessions. The little girl clawed at Sarah’s leg crying out, ‘Mummy,

please don’t leave.’ Sarah kissed the little girl on her forehead and

gently pushed her away as she strode towards the doorway. The front

door creaked harshly as Sarah, burdened by her bags, passed through.

The door slammed shut and a gust of cool air wafted through the

stuffy room. Her father slumped to the floor, his whimpers and cries

breaking the silence.

The little girl remembered standing confused, watching her

father, a soundless mass collapsed on the floor. She stood, watching

him, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. Her father sat,

absorbed within himself, staring at the picture frame in the hallway.

From the corner of the room, the little girl heard heavy feet scrape

across the floor. She watched as the beast skulked into the room,

hissing and snarling. Its eyes watched her with pleasure, an almost

grin appearing on its face. Its claws embraced her father, whispering

in his ear as it dragged him, sluggishly into the shadows.

The little girl was still crouched, listening to the rustle of the

summer wind.

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