down the drain

for the Scared Much challenge on MomzillaNC's poetry challenge posted by TL Boehm caution, strong language, disturbing themes of child abuse

      Many different things creep people out. Kim even heard one about a lady who had an irrational fear of spoons. Now, how hard would that make it to function in society? Kim thought. She knew her own fears were completely justified.  There was no reason to fear a utensil. There was plenty of reason to fear drain wookies.

     As part of her personal safety plan, Kim followed a rigid structure every morning. Each drain was cleared twice and rinsed. A look in her bathroom closet would lead a person to conclude the home was plagued by bad drains. Neatly lined up, on any given day, were at least eight bottles of drain cleaner. Never less than eight… never more than ten -- industrial strength, but the variety that was supposedly less harmful to the environment. Kim might have her hangups, but she didn't want to harm the planet in her quest to rid her world of her greatest fear.

 

    This weekend, she was packing for a trip. She carefully wrapped one of her stash in plastic to take with her. Can't be too careful, she thought. Kim always took drain cleaner with her, even to nice hotels. They were the worst places to find the source of her greatest anxiety. Her ex used to laugh at her fear. He never took her seriously. But she knew why… she knew when she’d learned of that evil; it was that day:

 

     “Kimmie, hun, can you come here and help uncle Eldin with the sink?” Kim hated it when uncle Eldin called her “Kimmie.” By his tone, she knew he was drunk, and she'd likely get a kick in the a*s if she didn't hop to. She didn't like the way uncle Eldin looked at her, but he was her only grownup kin; her parents were killed by a drunk driver. She and her brother Max figured: he might be a mean b*****d but he beat the hell out of the Children's Aid people.

 

    Kim ran to the bathroom. She was twelve. On the cusp of becoming a woman, but still very much a girl in her mind. She wore her dirty blonde hair tied back. She had a freckled face and sparkling blue eyes that were startling to look at. She would become a beautiful woman. But for now, she still liked to play with dolls, and thought boys were icky. Uncle Eldin was trying to fix the sink. He was underneath the sink, in a T-shirt and undershorts. Kim tried not to notice that his "thing" was poking against the material. 

 

"Yes, uncle Eldin,” Kim said quietly. She suddenly wished she had more clothes on than a T-Shirt and shorts, with no bra. She didn't like the way her uncle looked at her sometimes, it gave her the creeps. His brown hair was always greasy, and he often went unshaven. The kids at school made fun of him.

 

"Okay, girl, you stand right over that drain. It's clogged with something. You tell me when it comes up."

 

    The next thing Kim remembered, she was running from the bathroom crying. For some reason, parts of her hurt that had never hurt before. And there was Eldin, laughing, his pink thing hard and poking out of his shorts. 

 

"What's the matter, little Kimmie," he said, "It ain't nothing but a drain wookie." He was holding up an enormous clump of hair and slime that came out of the drain.

 

      Two days after the “drain wookie" incident, Children's services came to investigate the household. There were repeated complaints from multiple sources of bruises on the children. She and her brother were taken into care. They were placed in separate group homes, and uncle Eldin never fought to get them back. Kimmie had assumed he saw it as a blessing. 

 

      Now uncle Eldin needed her, all these years later. She didn't know why she agreed to come, but she guessed it was that old guilt. After all, he had taken them in when there was no one else.  On second thought, Kimmie opted to pack all the drain cleaner. Who knows what might be lingering in that old place after all these years? 

 

      The trip itself was unremarkable. She texted Max a couple of times, who thought she was nuts going back to help that old prick. She loved her brother, and she understood. He was the recipient of the worst of the beatings when they were kids. 

 

      Pulling into her old home town it felt like so much had changed, yet many remained exactly as they’d always been. She rounded the corner to the old place. It was on a dead end road at the outskirts of town. The next closest home was a half kilometre away. There was a knot in the pit of her stomach. Now, where the hell had that come from? The two-story transplanted "war time" house was a little more run down -- it had white aluminum siding, now twenty years older and worse for wear -- and the yard was as poorly maintained as ever. She wasn’t looking forward to this.  

 

     It's only a couple of weeks, she told herself. She was already thinking she might just opt for a hotel and help her uncle just during the day. 

 

      The smell of the place hit her as soon as she’d walked in. Musty, garbage, body odour and urine. Stronger than when she was a kid, she thought. A lot of odours can seep into the boards and crumbling plaster in twenty years.

 

     Uncle Eldin was sitting on the living room chair. Most the furniture was the same, except for the television, which was a newer knock off brand flat screen, undoubtedly purchased at his favourite white trash big box store. 

 

"Kimmie," he smiled, straightening up and shifting his sweat pants to disguise the unseemly bulge. 

 

He was missing a couple more teeth, but his grin was ugly with or without them. Some things would never change. Kim cringed at the sound of his pet name for her, even now. 

 

"How are you, uncle?" Kim asked, before having the chance to correct herself.

 

"Well how the hell do you think I am? Gotta sit on my a*s for dang near two more weeks, pissin’ and shittin’ in a bag.” He looked her up and down. “My, but, oh my, you sure grew up fine.”

 

Kim felt the bile rising in her throat. "Umm, you have a nurse for that right?”

 

"Yes, I do, Kimmie,” Eldin smiled, "Don't you worry, you got no need to handle my balls, 'less you want to." 

 

     Something in Kim clicked. She had to shake the image of a drain wookie forming in her mind. Now why would she think of that? A flash of her uncle, under the sink, then it was gone. 

 

"Okay, well, I will clean and set up meals, but I have some friends to see, so I will sleep in town.”

 

Uncle Eldin seemed disappointed, but nodded in acceptance. "Uh huh.”

 

     Kim busied herself for the rest of the day cleaning. She mostly ignored uncle Eldin, but occasionally stopped to get him something, or make random conversation. He was on a fair amount of drugs after the operation. She felt a little sorry for him, despite the fact he hadn’t been very nice to her and Max as kids. Facing a colostomy and cancer treatment all by oneself would not be an easy thing.

 

     By the time she was done, it was early evening. She could book a motel tomorrow. She had cleaned the upstairs and her old bed. It wouldn't kill her to spend the night. She was so tired. She’d driven three hours and worked seven. That was enough for one day. Kim prepared dinner for herself and uncle Eldin, who visibly brightened at the prospect of her staying the night. "You always was a good little helper, my Kimmie." 

     Something about the way uncle Eldin said that sent a shiver down Kim's spine. She dismissed it. He was just trying to be nice. 

 

    After supper, a simple Hamburger and noodle dish Kim whipped up (there wasn't much else to prepare) that uncle Eldin raved over like it was prime rib, Kim hung out watching TV. They didn't talk much, and her uncle soon fell asleep. Kimmie brought some drain cleaner with her to the bathroom, gave the sink and tub a double dose of drain cleaner even though she’d done it earlier, had a shower and dressed for bed in the bathroom. She never had felt comfortable dressing around her uncle, even as a kid. She ascended the stairs to her old room with a mixed sense of nostalgia and trepidation. She was remembering the months after her parent's death, before uncle Eldin started losing his temper more and more often. There were times back in those early days she felt safe here. Sometimes she missed mom and dad so bad it was a physical ache. 

 

     Kim slept fitfully in her old twin bed. Something was clawing at the back of her mind, trying to fight its way out. Suddenly, she was back in the bathroom with uncle Eldin, although he was old and creepy like he was in the present, wearing a colostomy bag. She had always remembered the terrifying incident as being something to do with the drain clog. But now, in her adult mind, she saw things she hadn't allowed herself to see back then.

 

    Kim was leaning over the sink, looking into the drain. She felt like an adult in her head, but she looked down and could see the body of a child. She had small, budding breasts that were poking uncomfortably against her, making her feel self-conscious. Uncle Eldin was looking at her with a glint in his eye. His thing was now poking straight out of the gap in his shorts. It was a trick of the dream that he was both agile and post-operative at the same time, adding to the horror of it all. He stood up. 

 

     "You like that, don't you Kimmie," he said, moving her hands to touch his thing. She was terrified, but paralyzed, watching her little girl's body do what her uncle asked. He rubbed it on her. He told her to put her mouth on it. She did as she was asked, tears welling in her eyes. She so wished he would just beat her right now. Anything was better than this. 

 

     He told her, “Get up, I am going to see if you have a nice wet p***y." The feeling was terrifying as he touched her. It hurt as he pushed his fingers in, and the dawning horror of what he wanted to do. It hurt so bad when he put his thing in her, getting more and more excited, telling her awful things, as she bent over the sink and looked into the drain. 

 

"Oh you are so good, you little s**t," he said, "You like this." He took his thing out, and Kim was relieved for a minute, until she realized he was not done. "Now for the way your brother likes it," he said. 

 

     Kim woke with a start in the dark room. With a clarity she had not had for twenty years she now knew the whys of her fear of drain wookies, and whys of her brother's attitude.  She was seething mad and could not spend another minute in this house. Her bags were still packed. All she had to do was zip them up, and leave the house in her pajamas. She wouldn't even leave the old b*****d a note. 

 

     Kim crept quietly down the stairs and was about to leave when she looked back -- it's just a drain wookie, Kimmie -- in the chair, not her uncle, but a giant, disgusting ball of hair, snot, and slime. It was one mother of a drain wookie, and one she just had to take care of before she left. She tied it securely to the chair so it wouldn't slip. She got out the drain cleaner and set to work. She used some plumbing tools from under the sink. When she was done, she had just enough drain cleaner and other products to start chemical reactions in the bathroom and kitchen. She lit a cigarette and left the cigarette burning beside the thing slumped over in the chair. She vaguely remembered the thing screaming, but then she smashed it with a pipe wrench to shut it up. She untied it once it wasn't moving anymore. Damned drain wookies. They’re everywhere. Kim took her suitcases and headed home. Maybe she would stop at Max's. She would have to stop at the 24 hour drug store on the way to get more drain cleaner. 

 

 Excerpt from the Greeenstone Gazette, October 31, 2014.

A local man dies in his living room chair, after mixing toxic household chemicals in the bathroom and kitchen and sitting down to have a cigarette. According to the Greenstone coroner's office, investigators postulate that the chemicals made Mr. Eldin Couture, 59 years of age, who had recently undergone surgery, dizzy. He appears to have hit his head, sat down in the chair, and lit up a cigarette. Overcome by the combination of post operative drugs and chemical fumes, he must have passed out, and the home caught fire. The house burned quickly due to its age and the combustibles inside. Its remote location meant the fire department was not called until the home was fully engulfed in flames. The cause of death of Mr. Couture appears to be chemical asphyxiation, and will be ruled "Death by misadventure." Foul play has been ruled out as there are no other people who were known to be in the house at the time. 

 

      Max shook his head. Leave it to Greenstone to not investigate thoroughly. Thank God. He looked at his sleeping sister, spending another night on the couch, and put the article away.  There was really no point in telling her now. He would tell her later that uncle Eldin had died, been cremated, and there was to be no memorial, and the house would be destroyed. He suspected Kim's fragile psyche would accept those lies, just as all those years she had held on to her irrational fear. Max himself remembered everything, but felt too ashamed to share with anyone what their uncle had done. Kim showed up at his place in her pajamas the night of October 30, after the day she went to help uncle Eldin. She apparently had no memory of what happened. She had simply told Max uncle Eldin wasn't there but she cleaned up all his drain wookies. Let her believe that's all she did. It's not like the b*****d didn't deserve it. 

 

    


 


 

Author's Note

This was supposed to be a 500 word story. That's just where it went at
a whopping 2491 words.
This is a revised version thanks to the help of John Gabriel and MomzillaNC.

Reviews

[TL Boehm]

holy frijoles batman. This was truly a chilling story. Made my skin crawl and I loathed Eldin. What a Jackass. He deserved what he got. Seems like the best horror is that based on reality. This one hit home for me too - more than you know, but even that removed, even if my life as a kid had been peachy, this thing - this story would still have gotten under my skin in a powerful way. I think you BLEW THIS CHALLENGE AWAY! WOW.

[Lyn Anderson]

I was hoping you would get around to it. Thank you. I love your stories, so I am happy you approve. It really didn't start out this. I know a person who said his ex had this irrational fear. He thought it was funny. I thought it was sinister. It just went from there.

[AprilRN1210]

this was one of the hardest things I have ever had to read... only reason I made myself finish was because you wrote it.. hit me too close to home... you are a very talented writer.. I would say you aced the challenge.. it did more than scare me.. I either need a drink or a hug... wheeew... maybe both..

[Lyn Anderson]

Unfortunately, what makes it awful makes it good at the same time. I understand. Should have come with a disclaimer maybe. I wrestled with the rating, but felt it should stay as is. I really set out to write a thing about drain wookies, but once I thought of the reason for the fear it went from there.

[AprilRN1210]

I would probably put a little disclaimer there... and yes, makes it awful but one of the most powerful pieces I have ever read... I know only a small part of that is how strongly I relate, the rest is your amazing talent.. I highly respect your writing and hope you know how awesome it is..

[Delmar Cooper]

Suitable for the season, the Holloween season. Reads like a Stephen King story.

[Lyn Anderson]

Yes, it would. I am heavily character oriented in my writing, and very much like the creepy. It was supposed to be a creepy story about a mundane item set in a challenge by TL Boehm. But keeping it to 500 words just wasn't possible as this thing kind of just crawled out.:)

[MomzillaNC]

A powerful blackness in this gripping short story.

NOTES: Your narrator's perspective is a little muddy at times. Sometimes, it seems Kim is the narrator; other times the narrator is the outside, 3rd party voice. I think, given that the last paragraph is Max's portion of the tale, that the narrator should be clearly that outside voice throughout.

Visually, readability with blocks of copy like this, needs white space. I recommend deleting the indents and double spacing after each paragraph break.

[Lyn Anderson]

The portion in the middle is past action from Kim's perspective, as is the dream. From my understanding it is better to show than tell. I do not quite understand how to remedy this without flipping to straight narration which I was trying to avoid. I get the spacing, however for submission most places still like indents so I will leave them. I do not know how to fix up and down spacing in cafe program.

[MomzillaNC]

The up and down spacing is just a matter of hitting the return twice after a paragraph break. I found that telling the entire story from a narrative point of view works rather well; good narrative still shows the action -- it's just all set in the same tense. Maybe put the past events in italics or something.

It's an gripping tale as is, though.

[MomzillaNC]

One final note: this should be rated "mature"

[Lyn Anderson]

As I understand it, the Mature Rating is intended to ward off young people from viewing sexual content, and in so doing appease the advertisers. I believe that child abuse should not be seen as sexual content, and therefore will take my chances with the rating. If it is flagged I will obey the powers that be. Thank you, I understand the concern.

[MomzillaNC]

That's cool. I don't disagree. But, I will add, that I wouldn't want my 10-year old over my shoulder while I was reading this.

[Matching Socks]

Very well written, great story! Wonderful ending.
Creepy uncles deserve to die. :)
Just saying...

[Coyote Poetry]

I like the ending. You create reason and purpose for the woman action. The story held my attention to the last words. Memories and actions can come alive. Even the negative hidden deep. Thank you my dear friend for sharing the tale of mystery and sort of revenge. Somethings are never forgotten.
Coyote

[Lyn Anderson]

You are welcome. I am glad you read it. Didn't think you read stories much. I am honoured.

[Coyote Poetry]

I read everything. Time been hard to find. I gain a new daughter. One of my adopted children from Honduras dropped of her baby girl of four at my house. I'm too busy for a old man. If the title catches my eyes. I will read.

[John Alexander McFadyen]

A gripping tale told in gripping and descriptive narrative.
A couple of observations:
Typo: "Okay,}} girl
Typo: It's only a couple weeks
I have never seen a colostomy bag that is carried as it is affixed to the skin by adhesive.
You refer to Kim as Kimmy in several places in the narrative which is not consistent as she is only Kimmy to her uncle.

[Lyn Anderson]

Okay, thanks. The carrying the colostomy bag is in the dream. It isn't real, therefore it is just in Kim's imagination. The rest of it I will correct, thanks for the sharp eye.

[Lyn Anderson]

I corrected all, and changed it to wearing, as it doesn't take away from the horror of it. Thank you very much for the help.

[Lyn Anderson]

P.S. one question. Why is "It's only a couple weeks" with her talking to herself a typo? It is in italics as a thought and it is her thought.

[John Alexander McFadyen]

Because it should be "It's only a couple of weeks". Hey you are the English scholar, I am merely an ignorant Scot lol!

[Lyn Anderson]

Well yes, but in my head Kim left out the of

[John Alexander McFadyen]

Why is she dyslexic?

[Lyn Anderson]

Too funny. I hardly call it dyslexic to drop a word. However I do have some editing to do.

[John Alexander McFadyen]

It's called crafting in the trade 'M', lol!

[Rene Salinas]

In terms of continuity I found the sequence of events gripping. Somehow the OCD clues we were dropped at the beggining were a clear indication that something wasn't going to be right. That followed by the descriptions which serves as a way to decrease the emotionally charged content, as the precesnce of the old man becomes disgusting pretty much straight away. So as the descriptions go pleaseantly about setting the scene the theme gets revealed albeit slowly. I guess the pivotal moment is the moment when Kim faces dissociation given to the nature of the abuse plain and simple. From then on we found out that it wasn't only directed to her but also to her brother. Then the time shift but not the emotional shift as what is tangled inside untabgles itself in the form of revenge.
Finally taking the life of that who maybe did not even appreciate life enough to understand respect and value life.
Well thought out also the moment of the printout from the news as it adds face vaule and objectivity and somehow a justifiable ending.
Clever plot, great sequence fully charged and gripping.

Greatly enjoyed.

Thankyou

[Lyn Anderson]

Thank you, I am glad it played out well. I set out to write a 500 word story about drain wookies, and this is what oozed out.

[Bright Ocean Star]

KLG, You have great story telling skills. I like the way you just dive right in and start character development immediately. Old men who look at young girls are monsters, and there is no need to invent any worse than that. I love the peculiar obsession with draino and drain cleaner. Where did that come from? I like your stories almost more than your poetry, although you are great at both. It is nice to see you writing a full story now and again. Great job!

[Lyn Anderson]

Thank you very much. Well, the character was scared of clogged drains because of her experience, and I figured that would naturally develop into an obsession.

[Bright Ocean Star]

It was an insightful leap, and it makes sense. This one was very powerful and difficult for me to read in certain places, but I really loved the conclusion. It's almost a mercy how the mind blocks out images and experiences that we can't handle, especially children. Very nicely done.

[redzone]

I will never look in drains ever ever again.. nope.. what makes this such a good horror story is cause it's very often a TRUE horror story... who said there were no monsters??? and not the ones we can see floating in the drain, but standing next to us in the home depot, or grocery store, or even next door, and then there are always our relatives... KL, I'm going to go to bed now and hide under the covers... Monsters stay away, I have drain cleaner!!!!
~~redzone

[Lyn Anderson]

Thank you very much. I set out to write something fun, be damned if I know why this creature appeared. But, nevertheless, I like it. I aspire to make people feel the characters like I feel for characters in Stephen King books. Thank you for reading. I appreciate it.