Flash Fiction from writing prompt - "Is it a curse?"

It's cold when I awake. A dampness shudders it's way through my body before I even open my eyes. Familiar sounds of the ocean lap up around me and icy water nudges at the tips of my toes.

I want to go back to sleep. My body is heavy and achy. I feel like I haven't slept in years. But the gravity of reality is heavier and outweighs my ache for slumber.

I nurse a groggy memory as I open my eyes to the hard light of the day. The world feels bluer than it use to. My mind gets stuck of whether or not "bluer" is a word and I hardly notice the little boy who has toddled down the beach toward me.

The sun is early on the horizon, casting a long shadow in front of him as he moves, excitedly, in my direction. The world around me is so quiet I can almost hear his feet on the hardened sand as the gentle morning waves push against me. I still haven't pulled myself from the sand that served as my bed. But I smile and raise a hand to say hello as the boy grows near.

I watch his eyes light up as he gets closer.

"Davy! No! Davy!" A frantic voice shouts in the distance. I know it's far, but the shrillness of the shouts that follow assaults my ears.

The boy - presumably Davy - ignores the woman's panicked calls and only moves faster toward me. I divert my attention, now. I remember the "stranger danger" worry my own parents felt when I was young. Besides, I have my own concerns. Like, where I am and how I got here.

Memories of last night dance at the edges of my mind.

It was Rachel's bachelorette party. Was that last night? It had to be.

Wait - It didn't happen, though. We cancelled it. She's upset. Brett's broken her heart, again. She caught him cheating right before she left for her party.

She's been trying to forget. We've been trying to help her. We've turned it into a break up party.

We went to a few bars. I don't remember drinking, but it's still pretty blurry.

I see myself driving to the boardwalk. No, I must not have been drinking.

We're strolling the boardwalk, flirting with guys and buying candy apples. But the sky clouds over and blocks out the moon. It starts to rain.

Cara pulls at my sleeve.

"I know what she needs," she says.

Then we've in a strange room with patterned walls. I hate the way memories work. I can't tell if this is real or not.

There's a woman at a table with a crystal ball in front of her. I can feel myself rolling my eyes in the haze of my memory.

The lady at the table senses my distaste for the occult. I feel her stare like daggers in my chest.

She tells fanciful tales to my friends but only worsens Rachel's mood when she tells her she's bound to a pattern of terrible men.

I'm angry. I do not want my turn.

But I oblige my friends - Or, rather, I'm convinced that I can somehow prove their "psychic" wrong.

I sit, a smirk tilting my lips.

"You," she begins, her eyes on the ball, "like to pretend you're nice but you have a wicked and impatient soul."

I roll my eyes again. I want to leave but can't prove her right by saying it.

"You don't believe in me." She chuffs to herself. "You don't believe in much."

I fold my arms in front of me and cross one leg over the other.

"Well," she pushes her crystal ball toward me and tosses a handful of sparkles onto the table, "it'll all come back to you soon, enough."

"Oooo, what will? How?" Ashley is excited behind me. She loves drama.

"Nothing will," I say. "This is all bullshit." I'm still angry that she upset Rachel who, by the way, is crying into Cara's shoulder.

I stand and turn to leave.

"Be careful who you hurt. Or, rather, what you hurt," the lady says from behind me. I hate to admit how haunting her voice sounds. "You just might end up having to feel exactly what you have dealt."

Then, I remember driving and not much more. There were lights and - was it a woman? A man? Where was I going?

I can feel the answer is close. The images in my mind begin to shift into focus. But the commotion over little Davy has reached a strange crescendo to my left.

A man, perhaps the boy's father, has emerged from the thicket that leads to the beach. He's overtaken the woman who is now trembling on her knees in the sand. Just when I thought the display couldn't become any more dramatically foolish the man begins to approach Davy in a slow stride with a wide stance. He overemphasizes his steps and stretches his arms out high above him.

"Rawww!" he yells. His eyes are on me.

I'm aware that I've just awoken on a beach with little memory of what led me here, and I'm sure I don't look my best, but I'm certain it can't be bad enough to make Davy's maybe father act so hideously cavemanesque.

Unless I'm - Oh God. Am I naked?

I look down and what I find surprises me more than a glimpse of my own nudity.

Fur. Thick. Dark.

Fur. Covering me from head to - paw?

One paw. Two paw. Three paw. Four.

Four paws?

The world is swirling, now.

My hands - paws - dance before me as the beach tilts and my vision fades to black.

Then the road. I see it, like a dream. But it's not a dream. It's a memory.

The road. Shiny. Wet.

It's raining.

The radio. Loud. Too loud. I reach to turn it down.

Rachel is beside me. She's crying, again. We've been listening to her favourite songs to cheer her up. We've been failing.

Ashley's in the back seat.

"Turn it up!" she yells.

She's drunk.

I want to tell her that I  need to focus. The coastal road is twisty and the rain is coming faster.

I'm not quick enough.

She climbs over the centre console and reaches for the volume dial.

"Stop it." I try to smack her hand away.

I only turn my attention for a second, but it's a second too long.

When I look up there's a figure in the road. And, no, it's not a woman. It's not a man. It's a bear. A blur of a bear, but I bear nonetheless.

Screeching tires.

The crash of busting glass.

An impact. Another.

I'm in the street.

The pavement is solid beneath me, yet I feel like I'm floating.

In the distance, the bear hobbles off, limping toward the ocean's edges.

"Gracy, can you hear me?"

 can. But I cannot answer.

The goes black.

I open my eyes. The young family is gone. But my realization lingers.

 

Today's writing prompt was:

Your main character wakes up as an animal.
AND
Under 1000 words.