My Aunt’s Red Coat

The almost true story of Little Red Riding Hood

Fairy tales are never the truth. They are dressed up or dressed down to make the truth more palpable. It’s odd hearing about the little girl in the red hood and the evil wolf that ate grandma. It is odd and uncomfortable since it’s so far from what happened.

I should know, I was there.

The snow fell early that fall barely on the cusp of winter. The icicles formed daggers on the tree branches they hung heavy, almost weeping. My footprints would disappear within minutes because the flakes just kept falling.

It was a beautiful day. I was going to see my favorite aunt, not my grandmother.

I had some of her favorite treats. I was happy to skip and hop through the woods. You never know the beauty of the forest until you see it covered in blankets of white. The scattered flakes matched my coat. It was beautiful.

The trip felt longer than usual since I stopped along the river for a snack and fresh river water. It was glorious. The story is somewhat accurate until this part when I got to my aunt’s home. The first time I entered, it was empty. She wasn’t there. I couldn’t imagine where she had gone. I checked the back, the front, and every side of the abode. She was gone.

That’s when I heard the scream. I ran back inside and was shocked in horror to see two figures standing over my aunt. Killing her. I ran as fast as I could to defend her, but the beasts were too strong.

My coat wasn’t a shade of red until now. I was drenched in her blood…so much blood.

I admit I ran as fast as I could. The whitened trees turned red with droplets of blood as I brushed by fleeing. Stopping to catch my breath, I sat underneath a tree. Its branches were weeping willows that matched my sorrow. I sat there. Then I lay there defeated. I could hear her attackers in the distance but I was too exhausted to run. I lay in the white powder until I fell asleep.

Awaking the next day, alive, with my red coat rinsed of the muck and blood. The snow was melting.

I was afraid to see the truth about my aunt. No matter what, I had to know, I walked back to my aunt’s home. I went inside with fear in my heart.

You see, my aunt did not live in a cabin or a homestead in this isolated place. She lived in a place of natural beauty and wonder. It was the most glorious cave with stalagmites and stalactites deep in its inner sanctum.

The cave was damp as usual, except blood lined the cave floor. Taking a closer look I saw my aunt strewn across the floor.

Not naked, but skinned.

The hunters took her coat. The monsters took her red coat. She was the only member of our pack that was covered in amber fur.

I nuzzled her body hoping for anything, a movement. I knew she was dead, I just hoped. My paws were raw now. It hurts to run, to walk, to exist.

That was six summers ago now. The memory fades, but I always knew this day would come. I saw a human girl skipping through the woods. Carrying a basket full of treats. She was so gleeful, as I stalked at a distance.

I saw the coat she wore and recognized it instantly.

This girl was a little red riding hood. 
She wore my aunt’s skin. 
So I decided to take hers.

Prompt by Christine Graves “True Fables — Create a plausible reality for these stories: Little Red Riding Hood”

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