Little Red Riding Hood as imagined by Max and Ashton

Yesterday you turned 13, your grandma left a confusing message relayed through your mom about not being able to make it. You will have to [[visit|continue]] her after school today.

The drizzle of the morning has changed to large, sporadic drops that run through the uncreased gutters of your dark mauve corduroy jacket. You have felt the bus fare (2 dollars, 3 quarters and a nickel) pressing against your thigh through the pocket of your jeans. You look [[up]] at the darkening clouds.

The bus won't come for another 5 minutes. Its only a few stops to reach the dessicated retirement home on the other side of the mall, built along other edificial remenants of a time before you were born, buildings named Holladay Park Place and The Fontaine. These buildings exist as a memorial to a time when people would visit the mall just to [[Walk]] in its hallowed grace. Now its is just an obstacle the number 8 [[Bus]] , with its 2.80 fare, and purple interior lights must wind around.

The front of the mall has a stained fountain, a stack of coins with commercial phrases in latin , greek, spanish. This used to be the center of the world. [[Pushing]] through the glass doors (one is now plywood)

Waiting at the bus stop with you is a woman who is frantically translating common phrases from spanish to english on her phone and a middle aged man wearing glasses with stained headphones straining to fit on his large head. The rains tempo has increased as it drums the roof of the shelter you are waiting under. The grey electronic sign reads 77 - 12 minutes 70 - 9 minutes 8 - [[2 minutes]]

You're now in the mall. If you can call it that. At this end all "recovery" effots have sputtered out. The only business here is the piercing studio where you got your ears pierced. While nervously waiting your turn, a signed letter from your mom in your hand, grasped tightly. The alarm had blared. The monotonic voice on the loudspeaker saying this is not a drill. please [[evacuate]].

You're still on the first floor (of 3) in the mall. The 2 dollars, 3 quarters and nickel are still pressing against your thigh, you wonder if its enough for the pretzel you smell coming down from the food court. Its [[not]] enough

The bus arrives and you allow the machine to vaccum your 2 dollars, 3 quarters and nickel. Now there is space for your hand in your pocket. The bus hisses, then continues [[ahead]]

- Driver! A woman with matted orange hair shouts. Somehow simultaneously she pulls the yellow cord respnsible for stopping the bus and lurches to the door. The driver - who is already past the stop awkwardly apologizes while attempting to pull over. There is a loud scraping. You know the bus has collided with a parked car. You sneak a [[nervous]] look behind and see what was once a black bumper stuck under the bus.

The driver turns off the bus and reluctantly walks out to see what he already knows. He comes back grumbling and sadly turns - I hit a car. You'll have to get the next bus. The man with the headphones mutters to himself. Hit a car. He then turns and asks you stumbling over each word, when the next bus is - [[About 20 minutes|not]].

The woman at the front desk rolled her eyes. Muttering, how kids have been pulling the alarm. The sirens continued through the cold antibacterial spray, as the needle punctured your skin and then the larger spike of your temporary earrings slid through the hole left by the needle. The lights flashed, red and white as you walked out. Thinking thats [[all]]?

The elevator doors open and into a hallway, each room is decorated with a hand drawn sign of the residents name. You march to the one marked (text-style:"condense")[Milicent]. the (if:(history: where its name contains "all")'s length >= 1)[alarm from so long ago, is still ringing in your ears](if:(history: where its name contains "nervous")'s length >= 1)[forlorn look of a man experiencing the worst day of his life is flashing through your mind] The door opens and Irene, your grandmothers neighbor, opens the door. - Come [[in]] dear.

You walked the rest of the way to the Holladay Park Plaza. The rain has left worms scattered on the sidewalk. It's hard to tell if these are carcasses or still living. You can barely remember the old house your grandmother lived in. As the doors slide open and you enter the lobby the sterile smell is [[bracing]].

You enter the room. Expecting to see your grandmother sitting in her chair. Immediately you notice a smell. All the pictures of your grandmother have had her face crudely pasted over and replaced by Irene. (if:(history: where its name contains "all")'s length >= 1)[ [[Where|stab]] is my grandmother you ask, trying to keep your voice from shaking. ](if:(history: where its name contains "nervous")'s length >= 1)[ [[Where]] is my grandmother you ask, trying to keep your voice from shaking.]

Irene looks sadly ahead - that same morose look you saw the bus driver make. Irene forms a reflection as you see your own face distort and make the same look. This is the worst day of both of your lives. As the mirror shatters and breaks, you hear her say - I only wanted to know what it felt like to be her, to be with you. All you are able to say back is - But you never can be. (align:"==>")+(box:"X=")[[End.]]

- She's in the [[kitchen]].

You follow Irene to the kitchen. As you cross the threshold, you hear the same voice from so long ago say this an emergency, you must evacuate. The same cold foreign feeling but now in your chest. The same red and white flashing lights. Is this all? The last thing you hear is her voice, low and barely audible over the alarm - I only wanted to be her. Just for a second. (align:"==>")+(box:"X=")[[End.]]

(align:"=><=")+(box:"XXX=======")[Credit to Ashton for the ideas and David Berman for the Corduroy Gutters]. [[Play Again|Intro]]