By. Elizabeth Rudnick
A chicken coop. How scary could a chicken coop be? But this coop was no ordinary home to chickens. Set way back behind my best friend’s Victorian house, it was run down, full of fallen leaves, with huge gaping holes in the roof. And one single rocking chair…
On beautiful sunny days, my best friend and I would play in her backyard without a thought for the coop. We’d race around, pretending we were famous jockeys about to win the Kentucky Derby. Or, as we got older, we’d sit in the warm rays of the day and talk about our most recent crushes. But on dark days, stuck inside the rambling, creaking house, we’d inevitably be drawn to talk of the coop. What had happened there? Why had it been abandoned? Why was the lone chair left when nothing else remained?
We made up stories about the coop. I was convinced that a chicken plague had struck and left nothing behind. My friend thought that it was just abandoned when owning chickens became uncool. But my friend’s brother? He had another story. A story he claimed was the truth. A story he would tell us over and over again…
Once, long ago, when the house was surrounded by nothing but farmlands, a young girl lived there. Her name was Caroline and she was lovely and popular. Everyone who met her thought she was wonderful. They’d smile when she entered town or walked into church. Animals flocked to her, especially the chickens that she loved. Girls wanted to be her friends or sister and all the young men wanted to marry her. But where Caroline was nothing but sweetness and light, her father was a mean and cruel man. His words were harsh and his heart cold. Caroline’s mother had died years ago and she had no siblings. Her only friends were her chickens. She would spend hours with them, cooing to them as she collected their eggs. The even bob of their heads as they walked a comfort to her. With no one else to love, the chickens became the ones that Caroline told her dreams to, shared her fears with. They never let her down. Not like her father, who, with no regard to her feelings, agreed to marry Caroline to a nearby neighbor in exchange for rights to his hunting woods the day she turned eighteen.
And so Caroline was married and left her family home and her beloved chickens to move a few miles down the road. At first, it seemed the match was a good one. The pair were seen around town, Caroline with a smile on her face, her husband with a comforting arm on her shoulder. But this was nothing but show. It was a loveless match. Behind closed doors, Caroline was left alone and when her husband did talk to her, he called her ugly, stupid, and laughed when she asked for her chickens. Chickens, he said, were as ugly as her and had no place on his land.
On the first New Year’s Eve of their marriage, Caroline did her best to get in a cheerful mood. She had a fire lit in the grand fireplace, a warm drink waiting for her husband when he came home. But it was to no avail. Her husband took one look at the fire and the drink and laughed, calling her lazy. She couldn’t even make him a proper holiday meal like his mother used to do. He kept laughing as he walked into the study and slammed the door, leaving Caroline alone. Poor Caroline could no longer take it. In a desperate attempt to find a moment of peace and a sliver of the happiness she had once had, she grabbed her favorite red scarf and fled back to her father’s home. Racing to the back yard, she made her way into her beloved coop. The chickens squawked and flapped around her, welcoming her home. She took a seat in the chair that had always sat in the corner and finally let out a breath she’d been holding for what felt like forever. For a moment, she was happy again.
And then she heard the sound of footsteps. Turning, she had only an instant to see her husband’s face, red with rage, before a rope tightened around her neck. “You dare run from me!” he shouted. “You can never run far enough! You’re mine. For now and for forever!” He pulled the rope tighter and tighter and Caroline struggled and clawed at the rope trying to free herself. But it was no use. Soon, her hands fell limply to the side…
My friend’s brother would always stop there and wait for us to stop shivering. Poor Caroline we would say.
And then he would tell us what happened after. How her father found his daughter in the chair, dead, with her red scarf still around her neck under the rope that had killed her. And how the chickens had died suddenly a few days later. And how Caroline’s husband apparently went crazy and claimed he kept seeing Caroline, rocking in her chair. He would tell us that, on some New Year’s Eve nights, when the moon was full, you could sometimes see Caroline rocking in the chair in the coop, calling for her lost chickens…
Then he would do something stupid like go “boo!”, we’d scream and spend the rest of the night playing Girl Talk to try and forget.
I always thought it was a sad story. But not a particularly scary one. Until one New Year’s Eve when my friend’s brother told the same story and then dared us into the woods. He was always the brave guy, laughed at horror stories or movies like Omen, so my friend and I followed, clutching flashlights and shaking. We got to the coop in minutes and after a brief rush, we realized there was nothing there but the fallen leaves and the chair. We all laughed nervously. But then I felt this weird chill and the chair began to rock, slowly, and then faster and faster. There was no wind. Nothing to move the chair. But it kept rocking. We didn’t wait to see what happened. We took off, running and screaming. But as I turned to see if my friend was behind me, out of the corner of my eye, I saw a flash of color. A flash of red. A red scarf…
Tweet Heart by Elizabeth Rudnick Publisher: Hyperion (June 22nd, 2010) Paperback: 264 pages Reading Level: Young Adult Claire is a #hopelessromantic. Lottie is determined to set up her BFF with Mr. Perfect. Will wants his #secretcrush to finally notice him. Bennett is a man with a plan.
Claire can’t believe it when her dream guy starts following her on Twitter. She never thought he noticed her, and suddenly he seems to understand her better than almost anyone.
But the Twitterverse can be a confusing place, especially when friends act differently online than they do in person. Things get even more complicated when Claire realizes she’s falling for someone else, the last person she ever would have expected…
Told in an innovative format combining tweets, emails, and blogs, Tweet Heart is a contemporary romantic comedy that will set your heart atwitter.
Prize:
- 1 winner will receive a signed copy of Tweet Heart and a water bottle.
Rules:
- You must be at least 13 to enter.
- Name and email must be provided and counts as 1 entry.
- Extra entries are possible and links must be provided.
- Contest is US ONLY and ends October 23rd.
- Once contacted the winner will have 48 hours to respond with their mailing address.
- The form must be filled out to enter.
USE GOOGLE to read my review of TWEET HEART.
- Thank you Elizabeth for the scary post and for the giveaway!
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