The skeleton Army

The hoard moved in unison down the long road. Every bone sang each time they took a slow step forward.

I snuck out of bed every night to watch the skeleton army from the small window. They never looked up, they never said a word, but they patrolled the city all the same. 

I asked everyone at school if they had ever seen the skeleton army, but I was the only one. I drew them every chance I had at school, hoping that at some point, Miss Bailey or Mum would believe me.  

When I told mum about the skeleton parade at night, she waved me away as she poured milk into her cereal. I told my teacher the same day, her facial expression changed to one I’ve never seen before. She was walking around the classroom looking over everyone's shoulders. I could feel her eyes on my drawing as she stood behind me. 

‘That’s a nice drawing, Casey. Can I see it?’ Her hand was extended, already waiting for the paper when I turned around to show her my drawing. 

All drawn in crayon were unintelligible skeletons walking in front of colourful houses. In the corner window of one of the houses, I drew myself watching them with a smile. 

My mum was called in after school had ended and was told off for letting me watch horror films, as she tried to explain that I had never seen such films and didn’t know where I was getting this idea from. 

I fought sleep each night to see the skeletons. I heard their bones in the distance, and my heart began to beat fast as I threw the covers off and rushed to the small, cramped kitchen. I dragged one of the chairs over to the window and climbed up to see them making their way down the road. 

They looked so tiny from where I sat. 

One stepped out of formation, slowly dragging its bones across the front garden of the house opposite our flats. The lonely skeleton stood still at the first step and looked up at the yellow door. Another skeleton stepped out of formation, dragging its heavy bones to a house and stopping at the steps to look at the door. 

Maybe they wanted to say hi to the people in the houses. Maybe they were looking for a place to stay. I’m sure Mum wouldn’t of minded if one came to stay with us; she would have no choice but to believe me about the skeletons! 

I hopped down from the chair and carefully made my way to the hallway. I froze, listening for any sign that my mother was awake. Silence was the only thing that filled the flat. I reached for my red jacket on my tiptoes and slowly opened the door. 

I flew down the dark stairs, jumping three steps each time, my heavy footsteps echoing each time I landed. 

The cold night washed over me as I opened the glass door and saw rows and rows of skeletons marching past.

I took a deep breath in and breathed out smoke like a dragon. I took a step forward, and another one after that. 

 Which one do I ask to come inside? Will they say anything? 

They were taller than I originally thought. Their bones made a loud, out-of-tune rattle. Their face expressionless with their hollow eye sockets as they faced forward and continued to walk. 

I stood at the edge of the pavement, watching and willing the urge to reach out to one. I didn’t need to, as one passing by reached out slowly for my hand. I took hold of its cold, bony fingers and fell in step with them. 

I looked over at the other houses where other skeletons waited, too see sets of skeletons walking back hand in hand towards the hoard. There was no other living person.

As I walked, Everything felt heavy as if I was made of lead. My body felt like scalding hot water had been poured over me, drenching me. I squirmed and screamed, trying to get out of the skeleton's grip, but felt the sharp bones cut into my hand. 

It looked down at me for a second before looking back up. 

I tried to stop walking, but my feet were compelled to walk along the sharp road. I frantically looked around, calling for help as the hot water sensation got worse. 

A pink goo dripped down onto my face, clouding my vision. It stung like shampoo you couldn’t wash away. I used my free hand to clear my eyes, but hard bone hit hard bone. 

I can imagine the pink goo leaving a trail. My skin and who I was, now just left behind all because I was called, I was chosen to join the army, no one saw.