Moxie Monday: Every Step Counts

April 06, 2015 by Niko Bommer in Moxie Monday

Kick start your week with a lil' moxie!

Fiction Friday: [Into A Field of Sunlight And Calm]

April 03, 2015 by Niko Bommer in Fiction Friday

I was four years old when I was taken from my mother. It was surprising how vividly I remembered the day, despite trying to forget it…and every day since. I remember the way my ankle bones bounced off each other, my legs wrapped around my mom’s waist. The strong yet tender way her arms wrapped around mine. The blur of green that passed under her bare feet as she ran across the field at the back of the Big House. How beautiful and celebratory the flashing red lights edging the house from the other side looked.

There were at least a dozen of us. Other moms. Other kids. Except for John, Jr. I remember thinking how strange it was that he wasn’t with us. Aside from Father, he was the only other boy in the house.

People appeared on either side of our home. Dressed in black, they looked like ants as they entered the field. Freeze, they shouted over and over as they ran toward us. Some of the kids stumbled. Some of the moms did as they were told. But my mom kept running, telling me it would all be okay, her voice raspy and spent. And I believed her.

Now, tugging at the skirt of the dress my husband told me to wear, it hit me how wrong my mom had been. And how deeply rooted those first lessons of what it meant to be a woman were. Despite being placed in foster care and adopted out, I had somehow still become her. Even down to falling for and marrying a man named John. Shame sliced me through the gut. I had never once tried to stop the fall as I tumbled into a cult of one.

Memories whisked me away from the loud, crowded bar where I was surrounded by John’s friends. Taken back to that day I felt the warm air against my cheeks. The smell of the sun meeting the blades of grass in the field. The beating of my mom’s heart against my chest.

She ran because she never knew she was a prisoner. At least not until it was too late. But I knew. For her, for me. I knew.

John dug his fingers into the fat of my arm, snatching me close to ask through clenched teeth why I was smiling. But I was enveloped in a calm I’d never known as the field came back into view. It beckoned me toward freedom. It filled with a sunny glow and informed me that I had a choice. I had a chance.

Moxie Monday: Tick Tock

March 30, 2015 by Niko Bommer in Moxie Monday

Kick start your week with a lil' moxie!

Fiction Friday: [The Last Girl on Earth]

March 27, 2015 by Niko Bommer in Fiction Friday

When I first heard the voices, I thought I was dead. It had to be the chatter of angels. Surely, I was ascending to the next plane of existence. Or at least I hoped I was ascending.

The night before I spotted lush green trees rising in the distance above the hard angles of brick and concrete that had dominated my view since entering New York City. Although I had many miles to go before reaching it, I wasn’t going to rest until I had. Stepping into Central Park, I almost felt reinvigorated. I stumbled down overgrown paths until I reached a huge patch of tall grass. I fell to my knees and cried as my hands brushed against the blades. As with every emotion I’d had in the last fourteen months, I had no idea why. Exhausted from the tears, I settled in atop my worn blue tarp, staring at the stars and imagining my family next to me until I fell asleep.

After a winter of ice clinging to naked branches and cartoon-like clouds puffing through my clenched teeth and dry lips, I had decided to head south. It took me almost seven months to get here from Maine. And it took almost as long to scare up the courage to finally leave home. To see if anyone else still existed. There were no gravestones to visit to say goodbye to my family. Even if there were, those graves would be empty. Everyone had just disappeared.

Packing up in the morning, I looked into the vast space and tried to imagine it full of people. Picnicking, tossing Frisbees, and taking for granted that they weren’t alone. I reached my crying quota last night so it was time to move on. Heading out, I found a tattered green and white sign that read: The Great Lawn. I laughed at the fact that I had slept in all of New York City’s backyard. The sign was also covered in simple lines meant to serve as a map. Although faded, I could make out a Turtle Pond and a theater, but my eyes hung on the clearest of all: Belvedere Castle. Something stirred inside me and I knew that I had to see it. A castle in the middle of Manhattan? What choice did I have? It was going to take at least a year before I made it to Florida, a little sightseeing would hardly make a dent.

When I finally spied the grey brown turret rising above the tree top, my heart pounded as if it knew something I didn’t. I took a moment, staring at the tattered American flag hanging limply at its peak and that was when I heard the voices. Light and carefree, even giggling. I edged closer, passing a half empty pond with no sign of turtles. Clearing the trees enough to see the castle, I paused when I looked at the balcony just below the turret. There were four kids, around sixteen or so. My age. Two sat precariously along the stone railing. One of them, a girl, was the first to see me. But there wasn’t fear in her eyes. Not even surprise.

“We got another one,” she called out to her friends.

After so long without human contact, four sets of eyes on me felt like millions.

“I know what you’re thinking,” another kid, a boy, said. “but you’re not hallucinating. And you’re not dead. Trust me. We’ve all been through it. Come on up.”

I wasn’t sure if it was because I had gone so long believing I was the last person on earth, but gazing up into their empathetic faces, I felt like I knew them. I took the stairs two at a time, my heart now pounding in unison with my thoughts.

I wasn’t alone.

Moxie Monday: Get to Work

March 23, 2015 by Niko Bommer in Moxie Monday

Kick start your week with a lil' moxie!

Fiction Friday: Galloway House Pt. 5

March 20, 2015 by Niko Bommer in Fiction Friday

[Welcome to Part 5 of Galloway House. If you have missed any of the previous installments you can find them here: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4. And as always...thanks for reading!]

A deep ebony silk crept its way through the thick, gray clouds. It slipped in like evening turning to night, but it was too early for stars to twinkle in the sky. The occasional lightning strike highlighted the waves and curves of stubborn clouds and with canceled plans and early dinners, it also highlighted the streets rendered empty below.

With each curious whisper slipped from assuming lips, the darkness dug its way deeper through the village. Then it wove its way into every resident of Townsley. The weight of it bore down on them thick and sluggish until, all at once, everyone in the village slipped into a cavernous sleep.

All but two.

For Kate Winstead and Joseph Strunk it was time to get to work.