9/11 Short Stories

The clock tower struck 6 o’clock just as the storyteller finished the story. The old woman hummed and stood from her stool, motioning the children sat before her to rise from the carpeted floor.
“That’s all for today, dearies. It’s time to go home.” She instructed before noticing the fear on their little faces. “Oh, my lovelies. I’m so sorry if the story had frightened you. The past may have been scary and wasn’t always peaceful, but it is also in the past. The broomriders are gone, and King Mickey has been a great ruler to us. Everything is safe and sound.”
A boy with bright orange hair questioned, “How do we know if the Mother of Witchcraft is still sealed in the castle?”
“Ah.” The storyteller turned to the boy. “That is a good question, Neku. A royal guard would go to the castle twice each season to check. As stated by him, the witch’s silhouette would walk passed the windows once in a while, so it wasn’t hard to spot her.”
“Will she break the spell one day?” A brunette girl holding a cat soft toy asked next.
“No, I don’t think so, Shiki. Goddess of Kingdom Hearts is an all-powerful being, surely her spell won’t break so easily.” The storyteller began to walk towards the exit, gesturing the children to follow her. “Don’t worry dearies. Trapped in the castle, Mother of Witchcraft can do us no harm. Just remember to stay away from the woods and castle. They are too dangerous. Especially during winter — there will be wolves
around.”
All the children replied with either an ‘I understand’ or a nod.
“That’s a good boy and girl.” Soon, she stopped at the library’s entrance, with its heavy doors held open by a teenage staff. “Alright now, time to go home. Next story time, I’ll read both ‘The Great Adventures of the Chocobros’ and ‘Oracle Luna and the Plague of the Stars’. How ‘bout that?”
Almost instantly, the kids perked up and thanked the storyteller before leaving the library. One by one, the staff and storyteller bid the children farewell. As the last of the children left, the old woman glanced up to the teenager. “I noticed you were listening to the story earlier.”
The teenager turned to face her. “Hm? Oh, yeah. Work ended early, so I decided to join until it’s time for the children to go home. Does it bothers you, Granny Lacemere?”
The storyteller, known as Granny Lacemere by everyone in town, shook her head with a small smile. “No no. I do not mind at all. It’s just…” The smile turned into a worried expression. “I’m quite concerned for you.”
“Oh? Why is that?”
“I don’t know if you have noticed it yourself. But you were… smirking.”
“Smirking?” He brought up a hand to touch his lips on instinct. “Am I?”
Granny Lacemere nodded. “Yes, you were. It’s like… like you don’t believe in the story. Oh! You even rolled your eyes once. You might have even scoffed.”
“Really? I apologize if my appearance disturbs you. I’ll keep it in mind the next time you tell this story, Granny Lacemere.” The teenager smiled politely and was about to leave when he was stopped.
“Wait a second, dear. I want to know why are you acting like that. That story is our history, yet you have shown skepticism on it. Why?” The old woman asked, a look of concern and curiosity spread across her feature.
The library staff hesitated to the grandmother figure before he finally spoke, “It’s not that I don’t believe it. It’s just… There are so many versions of it; I don’t know which to believe in. I mean, you even left out a few details in the one you told to the kids.”
“I have to. They are merely children, son. I couldn’t tell them about the bloody message left by the witch or the castle was haunted by the deceased; those would only frighten them more. They only need to know what is crucial.” Granny Lacemere explained.
“That’s understandable, but it also proves my points. By filtering and removing anything that is considered ‘too graphic or not important’ to the public, we don’t get the full story in the end.” The teenager stated, “So many pieces are missing because of it, that’s why I can’t find myself believing anything other than the full picture; the truth.”
“How do you plan on finding the truth, dear?”
The teen sighed and let his shoulders droop. “I don’t know — not at the moment. But I intend to find out one day.”
The old woman sighed as well before shaking her head with a weak smile. She turned to the open door and uttered her last sentences to the teenager that day, “I’ve always known you differ from everyone in Twilight Town. Do whatever your heart tells you, dear. However, I only have one simple request: Please don’t go near the castle, Roxas. I have seen so many deaths and horror throughout my life, I don’t want you to be taken too. Have a safe trip home, dear. I’ll see you in the morning.”
Roxas merely gave the storyteller a stare, then a soft ‘See you too’ as he watched the old woman limped out of the library and disappeared among the crowd.