This was written for an English assignment a little over a year and a half ago. Haven't touched it since I wrote it, so there may be mistakes. Feedback is appreciated.
One of the most common childhood stories is the tale of Little Red Riding Hood. It's always about this cute little girl who's carrying a basket of goodies to her grandmother who lives in the forest. But she encounters a mean and man-eating wolf who is then killed by a hunter. This story is almost always told from Little Red's side. But have you ever wondered what really happened?
Crouched down in the large green bushes of the forest, I waited patiently for the small forest rabbit to hop just a little bit closer.
Come on, come on! I thought, silently urging the rabbit closer. But just as I was about to pounce and capture my next, though small, meal my ears pricked up, catching the sound of someone walking along the fairly close path. The rabbit, unfortunately, heard it too and took off in the other direction, too quickly for me to follow.
Dammit, I thought. Who the heck is that?! Don't they know I'm trying to get something to eat?
"Apparently not," I mumbled under my breath.
I continued to hide in the bushes, watching silently to see who it was that had interrupted my hunting. It wasn't too long before a small little girl skipped by whistling to herself with a basket swinging back and forth in one hand. She had short, dark hair and pale skin. She was wearing a blue and white dress, with a red hooded cloak over her shoulders.
What the-? I thought. I had never seen her before. What was she doing in the middle of the forest all alone? Shouldn't her mom be with her?
And that's when it hit me. The perfect meal had just waltzed into the forest alone and unprotected. Now, humans weren't my usual meal of choice, but I hadn't eaten in almost two weeks, and I was getting pretty dang hungry; hungry enough to eat anything. So I decided to follow her. She continued to skip through the forest, heading towards this little cottage that I knew of, it seemed. If I recalled correctly, there was a little old lady who lived in that house, but she rarely ventured outside the picket fence that surrounded her cottage.
While the little girl was following the path, I knew a shortcut that would get me to the cottage before her. If I was lucky, I might be able to get some of whatever delicious-smelling treats that were in the basket, or perhaps a much larger snack. Running as quickly as I could through the forest on my shortcut, I arrived at the cottage quite a ways ahead of the little girl with the red cloak. I slipped in through a small hole in the ground by the foundation on the side of the house that led to the small crawlspace basement. From there, I made my way into the bedroom, all the while keeping one eye out for any sign of the lady who lived here. Seeing no life in the house, I stepped into the bedroom, carefully going through the drawers to find something that might disguise me long enough for her to leave the basket here and return to her home with her mother. I found a night cap which I slid over my head to cover my ears. I then put on a night dress that was hanging in a small corner closet. Slipping under the covers of the bed, I waited for the little girl to arrive. Then there was a knock on the door.
"Grandma? Are you in there?" a voice called from the door. It was the little girl, arrived at the house to give her grandma the basket of treats.
"I'm in the bedroom. Come on in; the door's unlocked," I called in my very best imitation of a grandma's voice.
I heard the sound of the front door opening and closing and then footsteps making their way through the house. Soon, the little girl I had seen in the forest was standing in the doorway, her basket clutched in her hands in front of her.
"Oh, are those for me?" I asked, once again using my grandmother voice.
The little girl didn't say anything; she just nodded.
"Well, then why don't you leave it on the table and I will get to it when I have finished taking my nap."
The little girl seemed not to hear me, because she continued to hold the basket as she skipped to my bedside, a smile on her face.
"Hi, grandma. How are you feeling today?"
I tried my best to smile without showing my teeth. So far, she seemed to be buying the disguise, but I wasn't sure how long that was going to last.
"I'm doing just fine, dear. But I am a bit tired, so if you would just leave the basket on the table and leave my to my nap, I'll make sure to get to it when I wake up."
The little girl smiled and sat down on the bed, looking up at me. At first, I thought that she may have been suspicious, but she just smiled and held the basket on her lap.
"Grandma, what happened to your ears? They're so much bigger than the last time I saw you."
"Well, sweetie," I said, "old age can do things like that, and anyways, now I can hear you better."
"Oh," she replied. "That makes sense. But what about your eyes? I don't remember them being that big, or that color."
"Well, sweetie," I said, "old age can do things like that, and anyways, now I can see you better."
"Oh," she replied. "That makes sense. But what about your teeth? I don't remember them being that long or that sharp."
This little girl was starting to get on my nerves. With all of her questions, I wasn't sure how I was going to be able to keep up the charade. The treats were getting cold, and the little girl was so warm, and she looked much tastier and more filling than the little rabbit that I had been attempting to catch before she so rudely scared it away. But I answered her question despite my annoyance.
"Well, sweetie," I said, "old age can do things like that, and anyways, now I can eat you easier."
"Oh," she replied. "That makes-wait, what did you say?"
"I said, 'Well sweetie, old age can do things like that, and anyways, now I can eat your treats easier."
"Oh," she said, looking a little wary. She was beginning to become suspicious.
"Why don't you lean a little closer, dear?" I said, hoping to get her close enough so that I wouldn't have to move much to get a good bite, and hopefully make less of a mess.
"I don't think that's such a good idea, Grandma. I should be getting home soon, anyways."
"Oh, don't go so soon, though. You just got here. Why don't you stay, and I'll have you for dinner?"
She didn't seem to understand the true meaning behind that, and I silently sighed with relief that she hadn't caught on. I was just about to get out of the bed to move closer to the little girl with the old woman returned, shotgun in hand, standing in the doorway.
"I thought I heard you in here," she said, aiming the gun at me.
Now, I may have been hungry, but I knew it was time to take my leave. I jumped out of the bed, ripping off the night dress and cap, grabbed the basket from the stunned girls' hand and made a run for the window, gunshots sounding behind me.
One of the most common childhood stories is the tale of Little Red Riding Hood. It's always about this cute little girl who's carrying a basket of goodies to her grandmother who lives in the forest. But she encounters a mean and man-eating wolf who is then killed by a hunter. This story is almost always told from Little Red's side. But have you ever wondered what really happened?
Crouched down in the large green bushes of the forest, I waited patiently for the small forest rabbit to hop just a little bit closer.
Come on, come on! I thought, silently urging the rabbit closer. But just as I was about to pounce and capture my next, though small, meal my ears pricked up, catching the sound of someone walking along the fairly close path. The rabbit, unfortunately, heard it too and took off in the other direction, too quickly for me to follow.
Dammit, I thought. Who the heck is that?! Don't they know I'm trying to get something to eat?
"Apparently not," I mumbled under my breath.
I continued to hide in the bushes, watching silently to see who it was that had interrupted my hunting. It wasn't too long before a small little girl skipped by whistling to herself with a basket swinging back and forth in one hand. She had short, dark hair and pale skin. She was wearing a blue and white dress, with a red hooded cloak over her shoulders.
What the-? I thought. I had never seen her before. What was she doing in the middle of the forest all alone? Shouldn't her mom be with her?
And that's when it hit me. The perfect meal had just waltzed into the forest alone and unprotected. Now, humans weren't my usual meal of choice, but I hadn't eaten in almost two weeks, and I was getting pretty dang hungry; hungry enough to eat anything. So I decided to follow her. She continued to skip through the forest, heading towards this little cottage that I knew of, it seemed. If I recalled correctly, there was a little old lady who lived in that house, but she rarely ventured outside the picket fence that surrounded her cottage.
While the little girl was following the path, I knew a shortcut that would get me to the cottage before her. If I was lucky, I might be able to get some of whatever delicious-smelling treats that were in the basket, or perhaps a much larger snack. Running as quickly as I could through the forest on my shortcut, I arrived at the cottage quite a ways ahead of the little girl with the red cloak. I slipped in through a small hole in the ground by the foundation on the side of the house that led to the small crawlspace basement. From there, I made my way into the bedroom, all the while keeping one eye out for any sign of the lady who lived here. Seeing no life in the house, I stepped into the bedroom, carefully going through the drawers to find something that might disguise me long enough for her to leave the basket here and return to her home with her mother. I found a night cap which I slid over my head to cover my ears. I then put on a night dress that was hanging in a small corner closet. Slipping under the covers of the bed, I waited for the little girl to arrive. Then there was a knock on the door.
"Grandma? Are you in there?" a voice called from the door. It was the little girl, arrived at the house to give her grandma the basket of treats.
"I'm in the bedroom. Come on in; the door's unlocked," I called in my very best imitation of a grandma's voice.
I heard the sound of the front door opening and closing and then footsteps making their way through the house. Soon, the little girl I had seen in the forest was standing in the doorway, her basket clutched in her hands in front of her.
"Oh, are those for me?" I asked, once again using my grandmother voice.
The little girl didn't say anything; she just nodded.
"Well, then why don't you leave it on the table and I will get to it when I have finished taking my nap."
The little girl seemed not to hear me, because she continued to hold the basket as she skipped to my bedside, a smile on her face.
"Hi, grandma. How are you feeling today?"
I tried my best to smile without showing my teeth. So far, she seemed to be buying the disguise, but I wasn't sure how long that was going to last.
"I'm doing just fine, dear. But I am a bit tired, so if you would just leave the basket on the table and leave my to my nap, I'll make sure to get to it when I wake up."
The little girl smiled and sat down on the bed, looking up at me. At first, I thought that she may have been suspicious, but she just smiled and held the basket on her lap.
"Grandma, what happened to your ears? They're so much bigger than the last time I saw you."
"Well, sweetie," I said, "old age can do things like that, and anyways, now I can hear you better."
"Oh," she replied. "That makes sense. But what about your eyes? I don't remember them being that big, or that color."
"Well, sweetie," I said, "old age can do things like that, and anyways, now I can see you better."
"Oh," she replied. "That makes sense. But what about your teeth? I don't remember them being that long or that sharp."
This little girl was starting to get on my nerves. With all of her questions, I wasn't sure how I was going to be able to keep up the charade. The treats were getting cold, and the little girl was so warm, and she looked much tastier and more filling than the little rabbit that I had been attempting to catch before she so rudely scared it away. But I answered her question despite my annoyance.
"Well, sweetie," I said, "old age can do things like that, and anyways, now I can eat you easier."
"Oh," she replied. "That makes-wait, what did you say?"
"I said, 'Well sweetie, old age can do things like that, and anyways, now I can eat your treats easier."
"Oh," she said, looking a little wary. She was beginning to become suspicious.
"Why don't you lean a little closer, dear?" I said, hoping to get her close enough so that I wouldn't have to move much to get a good bite, and hopefully make less of a mess.
"I don't think that's such a good idea, Grandma. I should be getting home soon, anyways."
"Oh, don't go so soon, though. You just got here. Why don't you stay, and I'll have you for dinner?"
She didn't seem to understand the true meaning behind that, and I silently sighed with relief that she hadn't caught on. I was just about to get out of the bed to move closer to the little girl with the old woman returned, shotgun in hand, standing in the doorway.
"I thought I heard you in here," she said, aiming the gun at me.
Now, I may have been hungry, but I knew it was time to take my leave. I jumped out of the bed, ripping off the night dress and cap, grabbed the basket from the stunned girls' hand and made a run for the window, gunshots sounding behind me.
I originally wrote this story for an English assignment during my senior year of high school.