nosleep

Part 1

After seven years, I was still disgusted. I waited for my dad to call me to do the dreaded chore. I sighed, as I lay in bed and halfheartedly played with my phone. He was preparing a concoction that had such vile ingredients it was done in the basement. On the floor of my bedroom, Bella and Barney, our Australian Sheep Dogs stretched out, panting softly.

A text message interrupted my scrolling.

It’s ready, meet me in the kitchen.

I pocketed my phone and swung my legs over the side of the bed. Bella and Barney got up and followed me downstairs. I entered the kitchen where my father waited for me, his mask pulled down below his chin, big orange safety gloves on his hands, holding a large bottle used to feed young livestock. He reached out and handed it to me. I took it, my face closed and resigned. He snorted at my expression.

“It’s almost time,” he said. “Don’t look so glum.”

“Yeah,” I replied. “But only until the next cycle starts.”

I walked to the door, and a sudden thought made me stop. I turned to look at my dad, who was removing his mask and gloves and putting them in the sink.

“Couldn’t we find a way to end it?” I asked.

“Audrey,” he replied. “I think if there was a way to make it stop for good, they would have done it. This is the only way.”

I nodded, the end of my mouth quirking in a half smile. I should have expected that answer, but it was hard to accept it. This will always be my life. Someday it will be my sole responsibility. I walked out into the cool September night, Bella and Barney padding softly behind me. We approached the barn, and I opened the door. There was the sound of a soft and sickly bleat. I stepped inside, but my faithful dogs waited outside. Even they were disturbed.

I flicked on a light and went to the stall where the unnerving sound came from. I opened the door, and approached the animal, my stomach queasy. The lamb looked bloated, its curly coat giving off a greenish sheen. Its eyes were nearly colorless, and it struggled to stay on its feet. I approached the animal, and put one arm around its head, steadying it. Then I took the bottle of formula and shoved it into the animal’s mouth. It was too weak to struggle as I made sure it drank every drop.

When I was finished and closed the door to the barn, the dogs fell into step with me. We were halfway back to the house, when they both stopped, looking past the fields of our farm towards the forest edge. They started growling, a low vibration that made me halt in my tracks. I looked out, towards the forbidding darkness of the forest. I could not see anything in its inky depths. But my stomach was gripped with fear.

“Bella, Barney,” I said. “Let’s go.”

Hackles raised, they started snarling and then barking furiously they ran off towards the forest. I stood there, mouth agape for a few minutes and watched them disappear. I felt a thrill of fear go through me. They had never acted like this before; they were gentle herders of our flock of sheep. I tried in vain to call them back, then gave up and went back to the house, my footsteps an echo of trepidation.

“Dad!” I cried as the door slammed behind me. “Bella and Barney – they ran after something in the forest!”

My father got up from where he sat reading in the living room and came over to me, mouth set in a firm line.

“The forest?” He said, “It’s not time….we are on schedule. Maybe it was a rabbit or something.”

“No, you don’t understand,” I said in exasperation, my hand to my head. “They were growling, it’s like they were afraid of something – but then they just ran off barking. I could not get them to come back!”