The ladder from the Underworld

Her hands screamed with pain, each chubby finger shad welled into double it’s original size with no sign of slowing down. Once a fluffy white dress, now a torn bloodied gown, tangled around her foot with each step she took.

“Neri, what on earth are you doing up there?” Death questioned, his tall frame stood at the bottom of the ladder, head tilted up.

“I want to be free, you can’t stop me!” Neri screamed, tears leaking from her eyes. She had heard rumours of a way to escape the Underworld, through climbing the giant ladder behinds Death’s desk. So, after some sneaking, she had managed to crawl her way into his office and start this treacherous journey.

“Free? How will going to my store room make you free?” He yelled. What? Neri thought for a moment, her eyes blurred. Exhaustion pinched at her skin, her muscles releasing the grip on the ladder –

“I’ve got you, no reason to cry little one,” cradling his child, he rocked her gently in his arms. After her sniffles subsided Death started to think, how on earth did his six-year-old manage to climb that high?



2 Comments Add yours

  1. Beneath a leanto tent of musty oilcloth, stewing in a Louisiana July, she had scoffed at the concept of Hell. Seriously now, how much worse could it be?
    Well done Crazy Sara.


    1. sarahscrazymind says:

      Thank you, love your imagery of a tent.


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