Saturday, July 25, 2015

Jessica and the Ripjohn


I went to my yearly writing write-in, where a group of writers gathered from 9-4 from Monday to Friday. I was late most mornings, and usually had to leave before four. I worked on the second in my Magic series and got quite a bit of work done! I love these write-ins, they are such a great group. 

On Friday, one of the writers came up with a fun idea. We came up with a story idea, age group, genre and character, then put our names in a hat and created the story, a few paragraphs each. This is how it turned out! 

I can not wait for next year! 

rin emoticon
Jessica and the Ripjohn
I covered my head again.
“Jessica. Get up!” Mom called. Again.
No. I can’t. I won’t.
I keep hearing that buzzing noise. I don’t want to see what it is.
“Jessica! You have thirty seconds to get down here!”
I shook my head under the blanket.
Whirrr!
There! Again! What is it? Was it louder?
I don’t know. It was mad, whatever it was.
“Are you food for me?” Someone close to my ear said.
I whipped the covers away from me and jumped from my resting place, eyes scanning my pillow, the bed, then when I saw nothing but my bedclothes in a tangle, underneath the bed.
I heard a squeak, then that whirr again, coming from behind me. I spun around, ready to use my newly installed finger nail polish stunner on whoever or whatever waited to eat me. On the wall, smeared like peanut butter come alive, was a baby ripjohn.
“Food for me?” It squeaked.
“No…no?” I stammered, turning my response into a question. My lack of confidence in not being food only made it excited.
The ripjohn jiggled with delight, pulling away from the wall toward me. I backed as far away as I could and tried to smack the sensor to open my bedroom door.
The buzzing sound returned as the ripjohn pulled from the wall, gooey wings sprouting from its back and flew at my head.
My escape forgotten, I swung wildly around my face to bat it away and shouted, “No food. I’m not food!”
The ripjohn backed away with a hummingbird’s capabilities. I opened my eyes and saw it stare back at me with an expression that looked something between amusement and assessment. Was he sizing me up? I wondered how much time I had before he oozed himself over me and devoured me with jellyfish jaws.
I scanned the room, wondering what I had available that would best serve my survival.
The remains of last night’s snack sat on a plate next to my bed, the tantalizing scent of peanut butter and jelly giving me the best idea I’d ever had.
“Hungry?” I dove for the plate, holding the now glowing disc between me and the winged menace. Self-warming, the plate hummed in my hand, heavy enough to be a weapon, perhaps?
With a buzzing cackle of delight, the ripjohn dove for the sandwich, settling on my right hand for balance. As it devoured the tasty treat—my own stomach now rumbling as Mom continued to yell for me to come down to breakfast—the formerly squidgy, ugly creature’s wings began to dry and its mushy, wet body to take a more pleasing shape.
“What are you?” I had to ask the ripjohn even if the answer was obvious.
The ripjohn bounced off my hand and landed on the floor with a splat and a squeak.
“Shhh. If Mom hears you, she’ll ground me for weeks!” I shook my wet hand frantically, trying to get the goo off, then rubbed it against my left hand. “Owww!” I yelped. I had forgotten I still had the hot plate in my other hand and promptly dropped it on the floor where it spun before clattering to a noisy stop.
“Now you’ve done it! Mom will come running up any minute now and… hey, wait! Where are you? Where’d you go?” The riphohn was nowhere to be seen.
Clunk. Clunk. Clunk. “Jessica, Jessica!” Mom said after racing up the stairs and frantically knocking on the door. “What’s the matter with you? I told you breakfast is ready five minutes ago. That’s it!”
She opened the door to my room and saw confusion, fear, sadness and fatigue on my face.
“Mom, Mom, a ripjohn—that monster—wanted to eat me. I gave him my peanut butter and jelly sandwich. He’s gone…” I said slowly as I turned my body in a circle to survey the room. I held out my arm to show the goo the ripjohn left on me.
“Oh, Jessica, I’m so sorry he got you. He didn’t eat you, sweetie. Thank goodness for that.” She hugged my shivering body and kissed my forehead. “You were so smart to give him the PB and J. Come to the bathroom and I’ll clean you up. You are brave. I love you.”
I smiled at Mom as we went arm in arm to the bathroom. “I love you, too. Mom. What’s for breakfast? I’m hungry.”