The Rumble - Issue 2, November 2024

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THE RUMBLE

Littered with debris of the past, Ruined from a long ago December, Scratched, gashed and torn with old white scars, Of things we can scarcely remember.

H E A R T

The window is shattered, as darkness creeps in, The walls are worn and fatigued.

The door hangs, splintered and fragile, Not enough to hold back the enemy.

An endless war of the house and the outside, The house's warmth turned to stone, The friendship and betrayal, The house has long outgrown.

The strings to strum are broken, The melody of comfort faded away, Wisps of song float back, But not long do they stay.

Anitaa Adaikkappan

H O U S E

Broken glass litters the ground, Reflecting of times lost gone, Cracking forgotten memories, Of love and joy moved on.

But one day the house shakes, And picks up the door, But instead of fitting it to its hinges, Nails it closed forever more.

It boards the windows shut, And hardens up the walls, It closes up all of the light, And darkens the grimy halls.

Now whenever one walks near the house, It emanates an forbidding aura, It pities none and forgives not, And punishes any intruder.

e s u o H d e t n Hau

by Oneli Gunasena

The wind blew ferociously, threatening to knock me over. Rain pelted on the dirt pathway forming mini streams. The breeze flew under my jacket as it attacked me with its howl. Thorn bushes leapt forward and clawed at my jeans, telling me that I was not welcome here. Oversized sticks blocked my path like nature’s tentacles.

Jagged stones bruised my legs and ankles. The wind gave a strike, the jacket abandoned me as it disappeared into the bushes.

When I despaired that things could no longer get worse, a flickering light beckoned me towards an old house, offering me shelter. Wet and bedraggled, I hopped back onto the dirt path. My eyes steered me as a faint light guided me. My arms hugged me as I fought my way through the storm, towards an old, wooden door, at the top of mossy stone steps.

A yeasty beer smell emerged from the clearing. A house. Goosebumps popped up on my freckled skin. My actions argued with my brain. Don’t go there, evil seems to lurk around this house; it appeared dark and diseased. However, my actions were automatic. The creaking door had a brass handle in the shape of a skull. Shadows moved and changed on the rattling windows.

The rusty handle gave access by opening the door. My tongue dried up and dust flared my nose. My wrist twisted the handle. A worn-out rug met me inside. The walls whispered an ear-piercing song; it swelled into a sort of orchestra of whispers and squeaks. As I cautiously advanced towards the centre of the room, a chill ran down my spine. A puff of ice-cold moving air circled my neck, almost like a cold human touch. My eyes pierced into the darkness. The whistling sound accelerated into a curdling scream that echoed around the walls of the empty room. The air thickened. Breathing was difficult. A dark shadow caused me to turn.

The Truth About Christmas

by Oneli Gunasena

Snow danced in the light, a choreographed ballet conducted by the gentle wind. Ava peered through the gap in the curtains with wide eyes. It was Christmas Eve at Ephemeral Town, She hummed herself a melody that made her smile from ear to ear. Christmas was coming and she had wished for the perfect gift.

That night, she asked her mother, "Is Santa real, and will he come?" Her mum answered, "Honey, I'm sure he will. Finish up your dinner and you can leave the cookies and milk next to your letter for Santa next to the tree. This made Ava squeal, but she also felt that something was missing.

"It's not the same without Dad," Ava anxiously squeaked.

Her mother forced a smile and hugged her daughter tight. "I know it is not the same, but he would like us to be happy during Christmas, wouldn't he?" This brought Ava's cheers up, She hugged back her mum, drying her tears away on her shoulder.

That night, Ava dragged herself up the stairs, holding onto Teddy and Mum. "Goodnight," her mum whispered to her as she tucked Ava into bed. After she had fallen asleep, Mum tiptoed back downstairs and into the living room. Her eyes caught Santa's letter and her curiosity forced her to open it up. A gush of empathy rushed into her heart.

The house grew silent, everyone was asleep. The town had become an awful silence. No cars bumped against the rocky roads. No people were rushing to the supermarket to get the best deal for a roasted chicken.Nothing made a sound, except the whispering of the wind and the flickering of the street lights.

Chills of fright ran down Ava's spine. Her eyes blinked like a fan, exhausted, but not sleepy. She couldn't fall asleep, the silence was too disturbing. She wondered why it was awfully quiet. Her soul jumped out of her body as the windows clashed together, breaking the silence. "That's strange, I thought I closed the windows," she whispered to herself.

The floorboards creaked as her toes touched them. With all her strength she pulled herself up and advanced towards the window cautiously. Her head poked out, scanning the surrounding neighbourhood.

The town seemed to be different. Ava felt like her eyes were playing tricks on her even though she was fully awake.

Shadows crept from the hallway as she trudged towards her mother's room in fright. The rusty handle gave access by opening the door to her mother's room. She wasn't there. Her tongue dried up and her nose flared. "Where are you mum," she whimpered.

The walls whispered an ear-piercing song; it swelled into a sort of orchestra of whispers and squeaks.

As Ava cautiously tumbled down the stairs, a chill ran down her spine. A puff of ice-cold moving air circled her neck, almost like a cold human touch. Her eyes pierced into the darkness. A dark shadow caused her to turn. Nothing was there.

"Mum," she called again, but no answer. With every step, she felt further away from safety. The front door creaked open, Ava stared at it, petrified. Two silhouettes of shadows entered the house. With all her might, she managed to reach the lights with her skinny legs.

The light flickered, revealing her mum with a shadow behind her. A sign of relief poured onto her face.

Ava rushed to her mum and pulled her away from the shadow. The shadow didn't follow her mum like hers would.

The shadow approached her, she hid behind her mother's back. As she peeked from behind, she saw a familiar face. "Daddy!" she squealed as she rushed to embrace him. A man wearing a torn, brown and green uniform, looking weary, kneeled down with open arms. Holding a piece of paper that read "All I want is my dad for Christmas."