It has been a yearly ritual ever since they were born, a ritual that grew more and more dangerous with each passing year. In the beginning it was something they looked forward to. Now it was torture for the three of them.
Last year was their biggest and most dangerous ritual. They were afraid of having to relive those memories, those haunting, disturbing memories that kept them up at night.
This year, they were planning ahead; they were going to survive by any means possible.
Grandmother Jocelyn carefully escorted the children back upstairs and to their rooms, helping each of them into their beds. With Leon’s room the furthest down the hall, he was brought to bed last.
Still wearing the face mask, and getting adjusted to the heavy blankets, Leon gave a fake sneeze and shivered, “I think we all caught something, Grandmama…”
Grandmother Jocelyn hated seeing her grand-babies feeling ill; she loved seeing them running around and having fun.
“Stay in bed, sweetie,” she replied. “I’ll go tell your mother.”
With Grandmother Jocelyn leaving the room, Leon couldn’t help but gloat, “It worked!”
Copyright © 2019 by Luka Tatsujo