Harbor My Strong Wolf

A/N- this is just a short story I wrote a few years ago as stress relief. What do you think?

Vote/Comment :) check out my other stories Happy reading!!

L.R.

This hour in the Harbor"s house was quiet now. The floorboards

creaked under foot. Snores drifted from a half-opened door,

a leaky facet dripped into an open sink. It was the loudest silence

the little house had ever heard. Funny how silence could be loud,

how wrong could be right.

Only an hour before, Mr. Harbor had arrived home from his day

in town. In a drunken rage, as every night before, he threw anything that came

within his reach and cursed until the devil himself would have felt shame.

Tonight had been a fairly easy night. Mr. Harbor"s temper raged at

inanimate objects until he passed out on the living room floor.

The Harbor"s house was a bare, but tidy affair. The entire house

consisted of two closet-sized bedrooms, a small living room that

doubled as a kitchen. There was no bathroom. They didn"t even

have the convenience of an old-fashioned outhouse. The three

rooms were clean but painfully bare.

Each bedroom consisted of a

single bed. Even if they had the money for more furniture, it

would never fit in the tiny rooms. Even the twin bed took up too

much room. The living room/kitchen consisted of a drippy sink,

two cupboards, and an old stove that was recovered from alongside a dirt road.

On one of Mr. Harbor"s sober days he had used some useless scrap wood to

construct a couple of hard-backed chairs and a faulty table. One

had to be very cautious as to how they sat anything on the table.

None of the four legs were the same length, so the table tended to

tilt and wobble at the touch of a feather.

For all of his faults and demons, Mr. Harbor did try to provide for

his family. Many tongue-waggers in town didn"t think that he

deserved the family that the good Lord had blessed him with.

They didn"t know, didn"t understand Mr. Harbor at all. They

never suspected the deep pain and suffering that drove him to the

drink.

The Harbors" moved into town three years previous, and

were poorer then the dirt in the barren town. Mr. Harbor managed

to do some work, but most of the money he earned went to satisfy

his loneliness. Mr. Harbor"s family consisted of two daughters.

The girls" ages being twenty-four and seventeen. Though being

underfed and wearing threadbare clothing did them no good, they

were beautiful to a fault. The girls were known in town for being

soft-spoken and exceedingly sweet. They were always ready to

lend a hand to any neighbor or stranger who appeared to need it.

They managed to take in a few odd jobs here and there. The

town"s people liked the girls and would occasionally offer them

jobs to keep them from starving. Despite their age and their

father"s wild ways, they never left him, nor did they want to. It

hurt them to see their dear father reduced to this wicked state. He

had been a very different man when their mother was alive.

Before they moved into this tiny house, they had lived in a

moderately nice city. They were far from rich, but they had

everything they needed. Love seeped through the walls of their

house and into the four happy souls who lived there.

Then tragedy. The girls had gone to the store to get a few items that

they needed for that nights dinner.

When they returned they found

their mother slumped over the kitchen table.

Several knife stabbings bloodied her back. She was dead when they found her.

When Mr. Harbor saw his wife dead, all happiness vanished from his life.

What was the point? Mrs. Harbor had been his best friend, his lover.

Every good memory had her in it. She brought sunshine to his otherwise dark world.

But now she was gone. Murdered while she prepared the family"s supper.

Mr. Harbor couldn"t stand the deep heart-wrenching pain.

Not even his two beautiful daughters could pull him from his dark smoldering depression.

He took to drinking every night. He would arrive at work drunk and barely sane.

He lost his job soon after his wife"s murder. He barely noticed, he was so deeply

entrenched in his misery.

His daughter"s noticed however.That was when they lost their beautiful house and

had to move into the small unhappy house at the edge of a barren town.

The two sisters clung to each other in soul and spirit.

They kept the memories of their

family alive. It was the only way they found any happiness in

their lives now.

Their father hardly spoke two words to them

unless he was cursing about something. Despite the lack of

communication, the girls never failed to see the depression

lurking behind their father"s morbid actions.

After dragging him to his room, the girls lifted and shoved until

his lanky frame over flowed the too small bed. Working silently,

the girls cleaned up the mess of broken dishes and different pieces he

Had gotten his hands on before he passed out.

"What will we eat off now?" Seventeen year-old Allie worried

aloud.

"Don"t trouble yourself about it. Bark makes a good plate. And

we could go to the dump tomorrow and search for chipped dishes

that nobody wanted." Twenty-four year-old Hella leaned the

broom up in a corner and turned to face her worried sister. "Stop

worrying, Allie. We"ve always made do before. Broken dishes are

a long shot from the end of the world." She forced a cheerful

smile for her sister"s sake. "Remember what it was like to clean

house with mom?"

A smile lit Allie"s face like daybreak. "She made everything a

joy. Cleaning was like a game to her." She remembered.

"Yes." Hella agreed. "And we have her joyful spirit in ourselves.

Everything will be fine. We just have to keep smiling."

"And remember mom"s motto." Allie added.

"The best and beautiful things in the world cannot be seen or

touched. They must be felt with the heart. So don"t be afraid. Be

alive." The girls spoke the motto in unison.

Allie giggled softly.

"Mom always lived and believed that." She whispered. She didn"t

know what caused her to whisper. The moment just seemed

sacred some how, as if it deserved only whisperings.

"She did." Hella agreed in the same low voice. "And so should

we. We must never forget it."

Allie nodded. "Let"s go to bed, Hella. I"m tired."

Hella nodded and carried the single half-burned candle to their

room. Hella held it so Allie could see to turn down the bed. Once

Allie was under the covers, Hella blew out the candle and sat the

candle-holder on the floor beside the bed. Hella joined Allie

under the blanket.

All the houses in town had electric lights,

except for theirs. The tiny house was wired for lights, but the

Harbor"s never had enough money to spare for the luxury. "Will

you pray tonight?" Hella whispered into the darkness. The bed

trembled slightly as Allie nodded her head and began the prayer.

After amen was said, Hella soon drifted into unconsciousness.

The clock in the living room ticked off the passing hours. The

floorboards squeaked and the facet continued to drip. Around

three a.m. an eerie new sound pulled Allie from peaceful sleep.

She heard it again.

It sounded like finger nails being raked across

their window glass. She shuddered as the sound stopped, and then

it started again. She heard a groaning sound. It could be the wind

and a tree branch scraping at their window. That thought would

have brought her comfort, except for one fact: they had no trees

near their bedroom. Allie opened her mouth to wake her sister,

but the words stuck in her dry throat. An intense terror filled her

entire body. She was frozen - feeling terrified and extremely

unsafe. President R-has once been quoted as saying: "The only

thing we have to fear is fear itself- nameless, unreasoning,

unjustified terror which paralyzes efforts to convert retreat in

advance." Lying frozen in her bed, Allie felt the truthfulness of

that statement. The terror that held her pinned to the bed was

nameless, unreasoning, and unjustified. There was no reason to be

afraid. It was probably on a bad dream that had wakened her. But

then, why did she feel that something was completely and

horribly wrong?

"Allie, what"s wrong?"

Allie jumped, Hella"s sleepy voice breaking her free from her

paralyzing stupor. Somehow, Hella had sensed her sister"s uneasy

emotions and woke.

"I-I don"t know." Allie whispered. "I heard a scraping at the

window. Something just feels wrong. I feel so unsafe."

Hella wrapped her arms around Allie"s trembling body. "Shh....

It"s all right. You"re safe. I would die before I let anything happen

to you" Hella began to softly sing a song that had always

comforted Allie before. But tonight she wanted no part of it.

Pulling back from her sister"s arms, Allie tried to still her

trembling.

"Hella, light the candle." She whispered. The nails on the

window sound came again. Hella froze mid-motion. They heard a

muffled sliding sound, then the nails on glass again. Hella

stiffened when the floorboards creaked. Then she turned in the

darkness and spoke the words that Allie had been dreading.

"Someone is in our house."

Allie couldn"t even manage a nod. They had always been safe in

this town. Everybody knew that their father did little to protect his

daughters, but so far they had no cause for worry. Tonight, that all

changed. The unfriendly house seemed to emit fear and danger

from its weak walls. "Hella?"

"Come on." Swinging her legs over the bed and onto the floor,

Hella lit the candle and stood.

"Where are we going?" Allie asked as she scrambled from the

bed.

"We"ll look in on dad, make sure it wasn"t him. Then we"ll

search the house." Hella stepped away from her sister. She

walked into the hallway, looked both ways, and then crossed over

to their father"s room.

Allie followed her sister, though the terror in her heart rose to a

higher level. She knew that their father wouldn"t wake for hours

yet, and when he did the girl"s would hear more then squeaking

floorboards. Allie allowed herself a quick glance down the hall

before she followed her sister into the bedroom. Hella stopped

when she saw the figure on the bed. Allie, not noticing her sister"s

sudden stop, bumped into her. "What is it?" She whispered

stepping around her sister.

"Allie..." Her sister"s warning came too late.

Allie saw the mound on the bed and froze, her eyes wide and

fearful. On the bed Mr. Harbor lay. Two vicious bloody stabs

marked his chest. One directly over the heart, the other was off to

the right side. His blue t-shirt was torn and thoroughly soaked

with his blood. The bed sheets were covered in his dark sticky blood.

Trembling, Hella stepped forward and held her hand in front of

his nose. No breath warmed her hand. She pulled the blanket up

to cover his lifeless face. She turned to face Allie. Allie"s entire

body was trembling so violently it was a miracle was still

standing. Her face had paled to a ghastly white, marred only by

the golden freckles that marched across her nose and cheeks. Her

large brown eyes were filled with tears unshed; her long hair was

pulled back in a single braid that reached her waist. Dark curls

that had escaped the braid clung to her neck and face in a way

that made her appear sweet and lovable. Standing there in her

nightgown, she looked like an abandoned, heartbroken child.

Their father may not have been much, but he was all they had. He

was their last connection to their formerly happy life. No, that

wasn"t right. Not the last connection. They still had each other.

Hella"s thoughts were thwarted by the sound of squeaky

floorboards. She realized in a flash of terror that whoever had

killed their father, whoever had done this, was still in the dark

house.

During her sister"s examination, Allie never moved. Only when

she heard the floorboards did she turn. Their father"s murderer

was still in the house, and he had come back for them! Allie felt a

tug of pain tear through her heart, though it was emotion pain, it

hurt enough to be physical. Soon their small misfit family would

be extinct. All the hopes she ever had now lay unrealized in a

graveyard within her mind. Buried hopes, never to be lived

because she wouldn"t live through this night. But her sister could.

This flash of insight stole her breath. Hella could escape while the

murderer dealt with her. Hella could escape and live. She could

fulfill all her dreams and hopes. Allie blinked as her sister moved

away from her and picked up a folded paper from the hall floor.

Hella opened the paper.