The Tale of Constance Hasting

The ride was much shorter than I had hoped. The entire time my eyes were closed, not wanted to see my surroundings. The cab came to a full stop and I hear the driver huff. My parents had to pay extra for him so come so far out.

“We’re here.”

I opened my eyes and seen he had parked right in front of a small log cabin. Neither the cabin nor the forest was what caught my eye. Standing in neon green jeans and a neon orange shirt was my Uncle Artemis. I had only seen one picture of him and that had been when I was smaller. I opened the door and stepped out trying to not look into the forest.

My uncle came bounding over towards me, his hair was sticking up in every direction and had been died, purple, green, orange, and blue.

“Well if it isn’t my favorite niece!” he boomed before throwing his arms around me and hugging me tightly.

“I’m your only niece.” I mumbled not knowing what to do; I wasn’t use to being this close to people.

“True; this automatically makes you my favorite! Oh and your things already arrived and the maids came and unpacked everything. I tried to get them to stop in case you wanted to do it but they insisted. My brother sure is a weird one.” He rambled as he dragged me up the wooden stairs and into his—our—home.

He finally let go of my wrist once we was standing in the living room. I looked around, it was a decent sized cabin but the inside looked as if it was right out of magazine—that was until I noticed all the clothes, paint cans, shoes, paper and pencils scattered all throughout the floor.

“What do you do for a living Uncle Artemis?”

“I’m a painter/ slash writer. Though I write more than I paint so I guess that makes painting a hobby. Do you have any hobbies?” he asked. I glanced at him. His eyes are a bright sparkling green—just like mine.

“No.”

“Oh come on! Everyone has a hobby! Your brother said you have a vivid imagination, do you like day dreaming?” He pushed.

I walked over and sat down on the couch. I stared at where the TV should have sat.

“Do you have TV? Internet?” I questioned. Today everyone had TV and internet; I don’t think the world could survive without technology. Uncle Artemis huffed before coming and sitting right on top of the coffee table in front of me. If my mother was here she would have shouted at him.

“I don’t like any of those things. They mess with my muse. Is that the proper way to use that word? Never mind that. Did I tell you to call me Artie? I’m only thirty-three, no need to make me feel like I’m eighty. What’s your full name? My idiot brother and his freak wife never told me. Sad huh? To think me and my brother use to be the best of friends when growing up.”

He shook his head in sadness, I could tell he missed my father, but I couldn’t see why. My father was as up tight as my mother and thought I was either sick or crazy. I can’t ever remember a time we had fun as a family.

“My name is Constance Anastasia, and I’m sure my father has his reasons.”
“Constance huh? I wonder why he would name you after one of my characters.” He trailed off, while looking around his home.

“I’m named after a character?”

Never before had I been told where I got my name. Its strange how I’ve only been here for just a few moments and yet I’m learning much about who my father used to be. I’m also learning that my Uncle is scatter brained and very random; but I fell at home here.

“Oh yes you are! I wrote a book back when I was your age. It was called The Tale of Constance. It was about this girl who was possessed by a demon who was after her mother’s soul. In fact I think I still have a copy, give me just one second.”

He jumped up and ran from the living room to somewhere up stairs. A story about a girl who was possessed by a demon. Looks like I got more than just a name from his book.

I sat, staring out the living room window out across the perfectly kept yard and into the forest line. The forest was dark and I felt as if something was watching me. I bit my lower lip and quickly looked away.

“Don’t like the dark huh?”

I jumped and spun to see my uncle standing there frowning at me. I nodded my head to answer his question. I noticed a paperback book in his hands.

“Is that it?”

I asked trying to change the subject. He frowned while handing me the old book.

“They told me all about your nightmares, and how you think you see things.”

I stared down at the book, my eyes tracing over the title and his name. I don’t want to answer him.

“You should head up to bed. Your room is the last door on the right; you got your own bathroom.” He spoke once he realized I wouldn’t reply back. I nodded my head and quickly made my way to the stairs. I reached the top of the stairs but was stopped by him calling me. I turned and looked down at him.

“You should know I don’t think you’re crazy. I use to see things too. It runs in our family. You should read the book; it might have the answers you’re looking for. Also going into these woods will help; just don’t go out at night.”

I stared down at him in wonder and shock. He turned and disappeared from my sight. I turned and headed to my new room. Runs in our family? Could my father have seen the same things I’ve seen? I suppose me being sent here to stay with Uncle Artie might not be such a bad thing.