The Starving Shadows

As usual, a wave of silence washed over Rindsburg. The lifeless streets bathed in the pale streetlight. It seemed as if there would finally be a night of peace for our tragic little town, its patrons plagued with empty hearts and empty stomachs.

The edge of town is encased in darkness, shadows circling the perimeter. Most days, I sit at the edge of town, staring into the void. I let my mind wander, to distract from my body eating away at itself. Sometimes I wonder what's on the other side, if there even IS an “other side”. I didn't stay as long as I normally do, so I started down the road back home.

I walked through the skewed doorway, trying to make as little noise as possible. I passed the kitchen, my parents face down at the table as usual. They sat there with empty plates, their hands clasping their bellies. I thought it best to not disturb their sleep. They seemed happy when they were asleep.

My parents only woke up when the weekly meal package was shipped in from the center of town. We only get one meal, but that's the day we sit down and talk about a time before our town became grey, when food wasn’t hoarded for the upper class in the center of town and everyone was happy.

Every day it feels so much harder to fall asleep, but recently I’ve found something that makes the nights go by a lot quicker.

A little black book.

I think someone tried to set it on fire because the cover is a stained yellow on the inside. Ever since finding it on the edge of town, I've been reading the pages to get to bed. Inside, it tells stories of elegant parties, and described foods that sounded like forgotten fairy tales. One part of my favorite story, titled “The Golden Bundt Cake” read:

“The guests flocked to the desserts the moment they entered the room. Tonight we served cakes drizzled in a snow-white icing and garnished with flecks of gold. Some guests gasped in delight after reaching the glistening raspberry filling. In mere moments, the only proof the heap of pastries existed was mere crumbs and the table on which it stood. I can't wait for our next gathering when I'll get to serve our family's secret recipe.”

Initially, I thought reading these stories would only worsen my hunger. But strangely, it gives me hope. Hope that one day my family will know the same joy as the people in this book.

To enjoy the luxury of a full stomach.

My room was a bit cramped, so I only went in there to sleep. I reached into my tattered mattress and pulled out the book. I thought a bit of reading before bed would distract me from my withered insides. I slowly made my way downstairs and slipped out the door to our backyard, home to one giant Maple tree. A few twigs snapped beneath my feet, and a frail shriek came from behind the tree.

“Gah! Stop sneaking up on me!” chirped my younger brother.

“It's not my fault your ears are so sensitive.” I chuckled.

Like most nights, we sat under the tree, and I read him my favorite stories from the book.

“Read something new this time.” he pleaded.

I wanted to get as much as possible out of each page, prolonging the day that the words lost their luster. But I would trade anything for his smile.

“Of course, I’ll flip around and find a good one.”

I landed on a page with a large title and some sort of list. My eyes widened.

The Family Recipe.

The writer mentioned a recipe countless times in his stories, but no one has seen one since before I was born. But with this, perhaps those stories will become more than fairy tales.

With legs as light as feathers, I dashed inside to collect materials. I crept into the kitchen, plucking utensils off the shelves. I searched every trash can I could find, scrounging up scraps as a substitute for most of the ingredients. I followed the list as best I could, chopping and crushing various things, until dumping them into the large pot we used for bathing.

As the steam wafted upward, the moans of our starving town filled the sky, aching from the promise the aroma gave them.

My brother just sat by the tree, with a puzzled look on his face.

Not long after the smell filled the sky, the ground began to shake. The shaking went on for so long I thought the earth was collapsing in on itself. With every second, the ground shook harder, until my brother pointed at a large figure in the distance. The figure walked straight through the fences, crushing them under his feet.

A tall man, as round as the moon, towered over us. I was frozen in place. Perhaps my body was finally giving out. He bent forward, sniffing the pot, and his mouth crept open as if it had been years since he last spoke.

“My...Family....”

He pointed at the little black book cradled in my arms.

“T-this knowledge… f-for..bidden...”

His face took the shape of pure anger. His eyes were hidden under the fat of his brow, the glow of the flame outlining his beady pupils.

“My...FAMILY! MINE !!”

He lunged at me, knocking over the pot in the process. My brother screamed, fell to his knees, slurping up the soup from the dirt. The man was angered and threw my brother across the yard.

“Leave him alone!!” I screamed.

“Give...FAMILY!” He boomed.

He charged toward me as I hopped the fence, running as far away from home as possible. “My brother will be fine,” I thought, he could take a hit. That and I'm positive he only wants this book. I wasn't sure how to get rid of him, but I knew there was no way I could let him lay a finger on it. Then a vile thought rang in my head; The edge of town. I thought of the perfect way to dispose of the book.

The man barreled towards me, crushing everything in his path. He was so fast for someone who seemed to be more skin than bone. My feet trembled on the wilted grass. He stopped, trapping me between him and the infinite darkness.

“Knowledge...y-your people... not worthy.” He panted.

My head felt like it was on fire. Who was he to determine our worth? I lifted the little black book to the skies, and his eyes widened. I threw the book into the shadows, the man blindly chasing it.

“My...FAMILY!!” He cried.

His decrepit wail only went on for a moment, before fading into darkness. I stood there, wondering where the shadow could have taken him. If he was still alive, or if his story ended here. This world was still a mystery, but at that moment, I felt hope.

I reached into my pocket, pulling out a folded sheet of paper. Smiling ear to ear, I started back home to share the recipe.