My cousin, my sister and I.

It was the three of us, as usual, spending yet another day of yet another summer, waiting for our mums who would pick us up after work, at our grandmother's.

Sometimes in peace and sometimes in war, one against two, or two against one, pushing our grandma relentlessly to the shores of her great sea of patience by running up and down the three floors of her enormous house, unable to contain our excitement, our never ceasing awe of the apparent infinity of its unused rooms after the confinement of our parents' tiny flats.

But she never complained much, never pointed out too often that I, the twelve-years-old eldest, or the other two eleven-years-olds were slightly too old for this sort of behaviour. She would simply banish us all outside, into the huge garden encompassing the ancient house, when the sleepy stairs and frustrated furniture protested exceedingly against our pestering, persistent presence, stirring them from their secular slumber.

That was even better though, what meant to be a punishment, for us was a treat. Grandma's garden in the summer was a paradise-- full of blooming roses and other incredibly colourful and wonderfully scented flowers we could not even name in the front, an enclosure filled with hens, chickens and rabbits in the centre, close to the house, followed by a large strip of all sorts of vegetables behind it. And beyond that, our sanctuary-- innumerable fruit trees casting cool, moving shadows, growing on a side of a steep hill all the way up to the spot where the edge of grandma's garden met the neighbours'.

We would run up the hillside and collapse, breathless, under one of the trees, laughing, closing our eyes to the cheeky rays of sunshine tickling our noses.

"Stop it!" I called as a very ripe cherry landed on my forehead a moment after with a loud splash.

Eww, I thought, looking at my hand coming back covered with its sticky, red juice. Now I'd have to go all the way down to the well standing next to the hen house to wash my face before a wasp could sting me... I was really scared of wasps.

"Which one was that? Lenka? Or was it you..." I asked menacingly, sitting up, looking at... looking for my two companions.

Much to my surprise, I was alone in the garden. The sunshine was gone, and the cold wind rippling through the leaves covered branches of the trees above my head made my skin crawl into gooseflesh.

"Lenka? Andrej?" I repeated hesitatingly, looking towards the house sitting at the foot of the hill.

Suddenly, it looked... weird. Too distant and grey, as if its walls were wrapped in a layer of a freezing fog. The glass in its many windows was all broken and the long curtains, reduced to shreds, were floating out of the gaping black holes like wisps of white clouds torn to pieces by the sharp remnants of glass.

An unexpected sound coming from somewhere to my right caught my attention and I followed it until my searching gaze paused at a small army of... enormous, red-eyed, sinister-looking hens rushing towards me, brown wings spread wide, beaks clucking loudly in warning.

I pulled myself to my feet, considering quickly what to do. Where to escape. The house looked terribly scary... The trees then! I'd have to climb a tree. I had never been good at that, it was my sister's speciality, but I had no other choice...

Taking a deep breath and keeping my eyes on the hens closing in on me, I backed away from them, towards the apricot trees, choosing the one that looked the easiest to climb.

I pressed my sweaty palms against its rough bark, trying to reach the lowest branch before picking a spot to place my sandalled foot, hoping not to hurt my toes too much in the process.

But then something even stranger and more scary happened-- one of the apricots... moved! It seemed to blow itself up a little, like a small, orange balloon... as it ruffled its feathers... and chirped! As on cue, all the others followed its example, morphing into a fleet of fat, frightening canary birds. Their black eyes staring at me from beneath their brightly coloured plumage looked even more terrorizing than those of the hens, one of which just pecked my foot painfully, even as one of the apricot birds landed in my hair, its claws scratching my scalp, making me gasp and scream.

"Ouch!" I exclaimed, bringing a hand to my forehead, observing incredulously as it came back covered with blood.

"Wake up, sleeping beauty! It's a cherry war!" My sister and my cousin called in unison, startling me back to consciousness with their noisy laughter.

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This story was written for Imagine this... Writing workshop, prompt 7. (Wattpad says I'm 20 words above the limit 🙈)