October 2023 writing prompt
It's getting too dark to see. I can't make the jumps. Belatedly, Miku Maki realized she was late getting home. It was not the first time this had happened. While the light had waned, so too had the skate park emptied of the cyclizar girl's peers. She was just so focused on what she was doing that she had not noticed. She stood near a failing amber light that flickered like the beating wings of the moths it had lured in with its deceptively warm gaze. Uncertainly, the skateboard waffled back and forth under her arm for several seconds. Then she dropped it to her feet.
I'd better get home.The richly-painted pavement of the skate park slowly rolled by, mostly smooth, which, with a shudder was replaced with rougher, segmented concrete beyond the gate. She wheeled towards home, everything about her demeanor reading, "The ever thoughtful, Gloomy Gus." She did not want to do her homework, which would likely be her first order of business when she got home. But what about dinner? Would it already be done and waiting for her? Or had they waited for her to get home? What was for dinner anyway? She started to feel more upbeat, interested in what was going on at home.
So, for a second time she was lost in thought, and she almost didn't hear
it.
When she knew she had, she had trouble picking it out from the usual airy, twilight noise: a startled bird or animal call, the occasional human or pokémon person laughing, a sudden roar as a truck drove by, sharing the same road with the skater as the sidewalk gave way, renouncing its protection of the cyclizar girl. But there was something else. Was someone listening to music? A commercial, perhaps?
She stopped right in the middle of the road and listened. Again, she almost missed it, but this time she was waiting for it. A thready voice lilted along a breeze wave and tickled her ears. Someone was singing. Instead of following it, she took a turn off the main road to utilize a shortcut through the woods.
It ran right through the cemetery.
Of course it did. Every cliché horror story started in a cemetery. Many pranks happened in and around the cemetery. She knew to be wary of the cemetery, and to avoid
anybody there, especially if they were her age (a dealer), or an elder that might work there. She knew that, all of it. She was not stupid or misinformed, after all. But to her surprise she heard
it again, the voice, and discovered that it grew louder once she was on the cemetery grounds.
Her cargo pants caught on the fence as she tried to jump over it. But then, they seemed to catch on everything, such as door knobs, and now wrought-iron fences. The tough, "child-proof" canvas
riiiipped and she fell to the ground.
Great. Really great. Not only was she late for dinner and homework, but she had also torn her pants.
Thankfully, her gear included shoulder and knee pads, and took the brunt of her fall. Staying on the ground, she hid behind an upright headstone, glancing around furtively. No one, she saw no one. Then, a silver flash out of the corner of her eye, and briefly the muffled voice became clear. But when it disappeared just as suddenly as it had appeared, the voice grew muffled again. So, the voice came from that... person. Whoever it was, they had her intrigued!
She snuck around the gravestones after the voice. She felt pulled in by it, and the closer she became, the stronger the feeling became. Her mind grew cloudy. Only the impulse to follow filled her with purpose anymore. Nothing else mattered. Not family, food, or responsibility. And at one point the skateboard fell from her grasp with a wet, heavy thud.
Upon a clear patch of grass without graves peppering it, was the pale, oblong form of a glowing pumpkaboo as it hovered and spun around, in a dance. The spooky, haunting voice Miku had inexorably followed was coming from the pumpkaboo. Dimly, Miku Maki realized the truth, that she had been ensnared by a ghost pokémon's song, and yet she no longer cared. Now that she was here she suddenly felt no impulse at all and just stood in place. But when she tried, she couldn't move, either. She tried to fulfill her sense of danger and flight and failed. "You are here," it said. "I need some help. Will you give it?"
Miku stepped forward and waited for the pumpkaboo's directions. Internally, she fought the pokemon's will, but from the outside her expression was dull, maybe even a little stupid.
"Good. I need help with decorations."
All it wanted of her was to help decorate. What horrifying "decoration" could it have come up with? In a cemetery?!
Move. Run. Miku wanted to leave this creepy cemetery with its even creepier exterior decorator! But the more she fought it, the more tired she became. Then, maybe if she tried hard enough, her exhaustion would prove to be too strong for her captor!
The pumpkaboo, an abnormal combination of silver and grey-brown color instead of orange and chocolate, held up some streamers for Miku to take. They were just paper streamers of orange, black, purple, and white. Miku moved as if she earnestly wanted to help. Her movements were smooth, not jerky or shaking as one might expect from someone whose body was in flux, their will trying to break free. Was it possible that despite the craziness of the situation she really did want to help?
Several upright grave markers already had streamers and dangling decorations hanging from them. Miku followed the pattern and did her own thing in places. If the pumpkaboo wanted symmetry or perfect patterns, they weren't getting it.
Eventually the pair were done and the pumpkaboo surveyed their work. It was obvious where Miku had helped and where the pumpkaboo's careful execution had been made. "I will have to fix all of these."
Something in Miku's brain finally snapped and she obtained full use of her body. She tackled the pumpkaboo to the ground. It was not a large pokémon in the slightest, but neither was Miku a large child. Nevertheless, the big round pumpkin pokémon rolled right over. "Don't do that again! Never control other people! It's bad! You're bad!"
"I'm not..." the pumpkaboo muttered, averting its teal-eyed gaze. It knew what it had been doing was wrong!
"Don't force people to do things! It's scary! It's bad! You should feel sad that you did it! I would have helped you if you just asked."
"But I did."
"Yes, I
wanted to help. I love to decorate! I love Halloween! But that didn't matter to you, did it?"
"It mattered."
Miku found it was very difficult to do anything physical to the pumpkaboo. It was not within her will to do harm. So they rolled around a bit longer until Miku finally pushed off the almost leathery, round surface and rolled away. A pumpkaboo literally is a living gourd, but this one was also very firm, not delicate like a regular pumpkin. She could not help but assist it in rising.
"What's your name? I'm Miku Maki."
"I don't have one. I am simply The Ghost Pumpkin."
"Ghost Pumpkin? Why don’t I call you Goppiin for short? Ghost,
go- and Pumpkin,
p'iin.
Go-ppiin."
"Oh, I like that," the ghost pumpkin said while Miku helped it to its feet. It had feet, after all, just very short ones. "Do you hate me?"
"I don't hate you." But Miku would not make eye contact and did not know why.
"Will you come back to visit me? I will not force you."
"I don't know." The cyclizar girl felt terrible. She felt used and abused. Coming for a "visit" was like the last thing she wanted to do.
"I am sorry."
"Yeah." Miku found her skateboard and headed back home.
Later that night, Miku lay with her head on her pillow and her arms cradling from behind. She wondered what the pumpkaboo was up to now. Did it sleep outside in the cold? Why did that possibility fill her with regret?
Did the pumpkaboo not deserve a roof over its head? And... Goppiin was not a thing. Not an 'it'. Goppiin was a person, too, right? Miku sat bolt upright in bed. She was propelled through the house and put on her shoes. This time the strong impulse to leave was under her own will's power.
"Miku, where are you going at this time of night? You have school tomorrow."
"I will be right back. With a friend." She paused at the door, coat half on her shoulders.
Yeah, I guess that's a friend. It's what a friend would do.She found Goppiin at the cemetery, combing through the rows and adjusting the decorations. Miku wondered,
What if the wind blew to rustle up the streamers? Would they fix them endlessly? "Goppiin, you need to come with me."
Goppiin stopped and turned to the cyclizar girl. The surprise, and frankly shock, were apparent. "What? But--"
"Goppiin. We're going home."
