She closed her front door quickly behind her, checked her peep hole to see if anyone was behind her and darted into the kitchen, clutching the bag closely to her chest. Her hurried frame only slowed as she laid the bag gentle on the table, then she checked all the doors and windows in the house were locked, curtains were closed and no one was watching her house, that no one knew what she had.
Sure of her security, she came back to the kitchen, creeping from the now dark hallway to the kitchen, flicking on the light and pausing with her hands clasped before her throat. She stood like that in the doorway looking at the bag, waiting, wondering if she would hear the voice again.
It had spoken to her in the shop, take me, it had said, over and over again, takemetakemetakemetakeme, until she hardly could think. She had bought it, fled the shop and made her way home as quickly as she could. No one could see what she had, it was for her only.
She had been too overwhelmed in the shop to speak back, her mind was so full of the words ‘take me’ that she could barely count out the correct money to pay for the item. She would have paid any price.
She spoke now, to the closed bag.
“I found you.”
There was no response.
The bag, it probably didn’t like the bag, she thought. She was nearly afraid to look inside the bag, what if it wasn’t real? Though the light in the kitchen was low, it was better than the light in the old curiosity shop, and she wanted to see it properly. She moved to the bag, an slowly unzipped it. She started to cry as she saw the clean, uncracked white skull, the spine, dark in the depths of the bag behind the fang-like ribs, and she whispered “I have you, I have you, I have you.”
She cried and cried for hours, eventually climbing up onto the table and sleeping beside the unpackaged baby skeleton.
When she awoke in the early morning, the too-bright light of the rising sun breaking through the kitchen curtains, making the room look pale, washed out and alien, she could feel the tiny weight in her arms. She shifted her stiff body and sat up at the edge of the table, the little baby snored softly while it slept. She inhaled deeply, the smell of its soft pink flesh filling her nose and she began to cry again.
She didn’t know how her baby had found its way back into her arms, and didn’t care to know. She deserved this miracle.
This post is in response to the Flash Fiction Challenge Prompt, Week 38.