Wordly Wise Wednesday Short Story: The Island with a Room and Children

It wasn’t too far from Wednesday when we embarked on the voyage on Saturday or Sunday of the week before. Who would think that what we found on that Wednesday would haunt our minds so vividly that Johann can depict the occurrence. The conscientious planning of the Island Children and their many tries of mutiny against Lorress had finally taken a leap and let the revolution begin.

We describe the island as a remote piece of land owned by nobody yet still by something full of audacious children escaping for their lives. Three of those children, the Island Children, are with us in the cruise: Johann, Jones, and Lyra. All of the others could escape easily without leaving inkling to Lorress about their whereabouts or even the fact that they’d escaped. All of those children who were confiscated of the freedom they had were now running around with the freedom that was once stripped of them. To think that we’d be helping some kids from an island when we had started the trip as a serene cruise back to Spain.

I must give Lorress credit he let the Island Children grow in profusion as if they were flowers and just every couple of years he would pilfer three or four kids to go in the room. According to Lyra entering or leaving the room leaves some of the children lackadaisical and every kid around that one child would too. No Island Children came unchanged from the room according to Lyra, those who came back from there would easily cause rankles to the others. We saved Jones a day before he entered the room. If they wouldn’t revolt who knew who else would of entered the room.

One week has already passed since that Wednesday and we are four days away from Spain. Although it is futile to rebuke Lorress everyone except the Island Children does so. The poor children who’d entered the room would never be the same and neither would be the ones that knew them. Johann talks about Tim three times a day. Tim was his closest friend but one day he entered the room. Nobody speaks or describes the room but all everyone, including us, knew is that one comes out changed.  For Johann Tim is like a little brother, he’d protect the little kid with all he could but no matter how prudent one is no one can avoid Lorress taking someone to the room. It is funny though how Lorress was a computer, a super computer. He didn’t have an android version of himself or a robot or a giant mechanic claw nor human goons. He simply had nothing and it still took eleven years of Island Children starting to plan a revolution to overthrow him. When Tim came back from the room Johann’s world crumbled, Tim had grown irascible and easily scared. His hair had darkened and his eyes no longer shimmered and danced. He rarely laughed, harshly smiled and his friendship with Johann was ruined. Nobody could help anyone who entered the room because nobody knew what happened in the room. Even those who’d never entered didn’t even dare to say a word.

Their escape plan wasn’t that simple either. No one could act in a slovenly manner because precision and diligence had to be acted by everyone if they wanted to get off that island. The only problem in the plan was that one Island Child had to enter the room. None of the children present in the cruise know who he was or is but he will be remember as the hero of the revolution. That Wednesday is the day the Island Children escaped and we found them drifting in the water currents 25 miles away from the Island. Nobody wants to speak about the Island, not them or us.  The nameless island ruled by something not someone with the Island Children in it. 

For more WW Wednesday and WW stories go to Middle Minds.

I Do Not Regret it and I Am Not Mad

     I still do not regret it. I do not regret killing that old man, neither will i regret it later. I'm probably going to rot in jail. Still I will remember my last night with the old man and his eye.
    Oh! His eye. What gruesome feelings it caused me. Don't tell me wrong I loved that man, but his eye, his evil vulture like blue eye. I could not stand such stare.
    The last week I gave to him, was I in my nicest. Every night, for eight days -- the last eight days of the old man--I would gingerly watch the man sleep. About midnight, never would I act with cursory. Never would he be able to corroborate evidence of me being in the room with anyone. For each day, had I put in a dark lantern all closed, closed so that no light shone out.
    When the last night came, and his eye was thrust open. I grimaced. a smile of contempt, not madness. He probably was dehydrated, woken by a mighty thirst. If he could see me that night I would of caused him fear. If anyone could feel my sagacity that night, too have they been scared. "Who's There." His last two words ALL IN VAIN. For I remained quiet. Hour past I made my next move.
   Do you fancy me mad? How could a mad man make such a wise plan? Could he have thought of a thief, maybe. He had a fence and the shutters were close fastened. He feared someone would derive a single coin from his dragon's hoard. Wich he'd made me keep inventory of for plain fear of robbery.
   Why is it that you; a Nobody,keep on insisting I'm mad. For I am not in jail for madness but for murder. Yes for this plane thing I find myself behind the bars. I do not regret it; Nobody, I never will. My endeavor to kill that old man was far to great to be madness. My wise plan was too careful to be madness. So why is it that you, a Nobody, a person who is of such little importance call such a wise man mad? Oh, you still desire to know how I killed the old man? Well, Nobody, let me tell you so that your life will have a meaning.
   Clad with the heavy bed the instant I had dragged him to the floor. His heart wich simulated the courage of a soldier, wich had made me nervous, now marked the old man's hour. It could not be heard through the wall. He was stone dead, no pulsation. His eye would trouble me no more.
   Now if you still think me mad, you better shouldn't for I'd taken my precautions. I took three planks from the flooring, the less abrasive and deposited all between the scantlings. I then replaced the board so cleverly, so cunningly that no human eye -- even his or yours.. could have detected anything wrong. There was noting to clean, there was no blood -- no stain-- I had been too wary for that. Four o' clock, I was done. As for the door, their was knocking, the bell sounded the hour.
   So now you think it's safe to surmise I was scared. You couldn't be wronger for what had I to fear? There entered three men, who introduced themselves, with perfect suavity, as officers of the police. Apparently a dammed neighbor heard the old man scream but what had I to fear? Eagerly I should them all the rooms even the old man's chamber.
   I lied to them, I said the shriek was my own in a dream and the old man was put of the country. I was so electrified my plan had work, they would have no clue. I asked them, no, pulled some chairs for them, mine was on top of the very man. They would never guess that they were in the room were he lay. While I myself, had convinced them. The officers were satisfied.
   Now you must be thinking, then how did you manage to be here? Well, while they sat and I answered cheerily, they chatted about familiar things. Some time within our conversation about where the old man was I felt myself getting pale and wishing them gone. I fancied a ringing in my ears, but it wasn't it was a sound low, dull, quick sound -- much such a sound as a watch makes when enveloped in cotton. I tried talking faster but the sound increased, I grew paler. Why did they not leave?
   Had I not provided all the information they needed? Mockery, that is what it was. I swung the chair, grated it upon the boards, I swore!
   Finally did I succumb to that horrid noise. Did they not hear it, Almighty God!-- no; no? They heard!-- They KNEW!-- It was me all along. I was in agony, anything was, no, is better than that agony. Anything was more tolerable than this derision! Hippocrates, they knew it all along with their hypocritical smiles.I snapped.
   "Villains!" I shrieked,"dissemble no more! I admit the deed!-- tear up planks-- here, here!-- it is the beating of his hideous heart!"
    Son now, Nobody, do you like having spice in you life? Talking to a murderer. Let me tell you I do not regret it. So do you still fancy me mad?