<< Return to part 4 - Half Light <<
With a gentle swaying rhythm, Tom's hips rocked in time to hoof beats of the horse beneath him. Long and weary hours together fused them into two parts of the same being. With every mountain and river and enemy that fell beneath those hooves, a kinship was forged between horse and master. One step, one breath, one sway of the hips, one movement closer to home.
A long dry summer had left the road down which they walked ready to fly away, and with every step a puff of dust was released into the air. Thought the ground was dry, the forest surrounding the road was lush and green, tempting. How pleasant it would be to wander through the trees, to escape the raging sun, but the Darce Forest was not to be trifled with, not by one man alone. Many a man had been drawn into those silvery boughs on their own, with no one to hear them scream and no one to report why they could not return. Of late the problem had been growing. The gangs of men who had been safe entering the forest together, dared to venture forth no more. In hushed whispers they could be heard speaking of a shadow stretching through the forest, leaving bloodshed in it's wake. They called him Grosvenor, the merciless prowling hunter.
Dragging his eyes from the Darce Forest, Tom lost his thoughts in the dirt of the road. Nothing but dusty brown dirt.
"Brown, brown, brown, brown", the words ran through his mind, "brown, brown, blue, brown, wait! What? Blue? What could be blue?"
Amidst a quivering mound of dirt he found blue, wide, perfectly round, deep sky blue. Not just one blue, but two. Two of the pretty blue circles, like punctures in the ground revealing the sky on the other side of the world, like two eyes so the dirt could watch him pass
.
"Hello dirt, why are you looking at me so?" he chuckled to himself, thinking of coloured beads fallen from a saddle bag.
Then, the dirt blinked and Tom reigned his horse in suddenly, laughter forgotten on his lips. The idea of bead-like eyes in the dirt seemed funny, but blinking dirt? Surely not. In the glaring sunlight he forced his mind into motion and began to separate shapes from the earthen backdrop. He discovered the form of a girl, crouched, filthy, and ready to fly. A savage girl with skin the colour of the earth and hair matted with dirt and twigs and blood. Shocking though her body was, with bones pointing everywhere as though trying to escape, her eyes were what held him captive. They were large, intelligent, and wild with fear.
The eyes of a caged animal staring from her hollow face.
In one fluid movement he dismounted. As his feet found solid ground he looked for her again, looked for those eyes, but all he saw was a whip of hair as it disappeared beyond the nearest tree. With a yell he began the pursuit, following the sound of her ragged breathing.
She was fleet and light of foot, obviously familiar with the forest, but Tom was faster. Fit and healthy and well fed he gained on her quickly.
She reached a clearing in the trees and whirled around to face him. With the force of his momentum they collided and his arms wrapped fast around her. Spitting like a feral cat she clawed at his skin and thrashed against his hold. But hold he did, and eventually in exhaustion, she stopped and sagged against him. Once she relaxed, Tom was able to get a better view of the clearing. He staggered backwards at the sight. In the middle of the clearing a body has been left, mangled and broken with congealed blood and entrails all around.
"Oh god, this must have been the Grosvenor," Tom though to himself.
He felt her hanging limp against his chest and thinking her frightened from the mess of death on the ground he began to croon softly in her ear. With the words he used to calm wild beasts, he attempted to soothe her.
***
As the giant man held her tightly Sarah fought. She fought for freedom and air and life. The terror that raced through her veins screamed of captivity, torture, and punishment for the sins of her past. He would drag her back, she knew he would.
As she struggled she felt his skin, his clothes, his hair. It all brushed against her as she moved. Howling and pushing and scratching against him, she suddenly knew what it had been like for all those creatures she had killed, the ones that had put up a fight.
As she grew weaker she began to breath deeper. She smelled sweat and horses, leather and man, forest and earth. Something was missing though, something didn't smell right.
After a moment she discovered the difference in the air. Falling limp with shock , Sarah realised that for the first time in her life, she could not smell the ocean.
>> Part 6 Coming Soon >>
Showing posts with label Girl in the Night. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Girl in the Night. Show all posts
Wednesday, 24 September 2014
Sunday, 31 August 2014
Girl in the Night - Part 4 - Half Light
<< Return to part 3 - Insight <<
In the dappled grey of moonlight the world quiets into a fitful slumber. The land is grey and muted, a molten lead shadow of daylight's sun kissed glory. The sounds of the world are muted too. The chaos of life, the howl of the wind, the creak of the growing forest, it all subsides into the heavy breathing silence of night.
The night is a time for hunters, stealthy nightmares that prowl in the darkness while the weak run and hide.
In the night, the stillness is broken only by bursts of lunatic laughter as the hunters terrorise their prey, and by hollow screams of the dying.
A dream creeps through the forest on tiny silent feet. She is a dream. She has no presence. She something seen, but not really there. Insubstantial. Something noticed, but then easily forgotten. She slips in and out of the shadow forest like a whisper on the breeze. This is Sarah, or at least what is left of her. She has learned to live as a wraith. A shimmer in the darkness.
Through all the months since she awoke, half submerged on the bank of the river, Sarah wandered. She wandered away from the pungent sting of the ocean salt and off through the forest.
At first she blundered forward, tripping on roots and branches. Snagging her clothes on every twig and bramble. The forest animals fled at the noise of her passing and she grew hungry.
With the desperation of the dying she ate whatever she could find. At first grubs and grasses were all she could manage but as she grew into her life in the forest and her skeleton forced it's way out thorough her whithering flesh, she became desperate enough, and light enough, to take to the trees. The birds eggs were delicious. Rich and warm. So much better than grubs.
One evening, a mother bird retuned to it's nest while Sarah still crouched on the branch beside it, sucking an egg from it's fragile shell. The bird noticed her, but was too distraught be the sight of the empty nest to pay her much attention. Frozen at the sight of the bird, Sarah's mouth flooded with saliva. She could almost remember what meat tasted like.
The bird began to urgently hop around it's nest, and when it reached the point closest to Sarah, she leapt. With both hands she grabbed onto the silky feathers, and together they fell. The ground was soft with leaf littler, but the little bird landed between Sarah and the ground. It lay broken and dead, but still somehow beautiful. With broken wings and dripping blood, Sarah thought it to be the most beautiful thing she had ever seen.
The bird marked a turning point for Sarah. She learned that she was capable of killing, capable of fighting, capable of surviving on her own. This is when she began to move through the forest like a hunter. Her steps became quieter, and eventually silent. She learned the voices of the forest, and forsaking the language she was taught as a child, she began to speak as one of the animals. The distress calls of prey that she had heard in the past soon gurgled in her throat as she lured the night predators to her waiting hands and snarling mouth.
She became wild. More wild than the howling wolves. More wild than the wind on the ocean.
She lived for the half light between day and night, where animals were restless and tired, moving to bed after a day of hunting, or just waking up for the night. They were less careful then, more easily caught and subdued. In the half light, Sarah would fly through the forest on feather feet like a ghost. The dirt on her clothes and embedded in her skin made her the same colour as the twilight, invisible to any watching eyes. She was one with the earth and the birds and the sky.
Then the sun would lighted the eastern sky with a promise to rise and the earth would call her down to sleep. With a full stomach she would curl up where she stopped and forget all the world around her.
One night when she stopped, it was on a particularly hard patch of ground. Crawling along it, following a shallow rut in one direction, it seemed to stretch on for ever, but turning to the side she found a soft mound of dirt quite quickly. Curling up in a ball she placed her arm over her head to shield her face from the light of the quickly rising sun.
Something pulled at her brain as she lay there, drifting off to sleep. Something familiar about that hard ground and that rut running through it. The nagging thought in her brain swum into her dreams as she fell deeply into sleep.
A memory floated to the surface of her mind, becoming clearer with each hour as she slipped away from concious thought. The memory was from her childhood. She had been playing the in the garden across from her home when she heard the kitchen maids calling her in for supper. Exited to see her father at the table she had leapt up and run. She ran so fast that when she tripped she felt like he was flying through the air. When she landed it was bloody. Skinned elbows and knees. Ripped dress.
With tears in her eyes she had hobbled back to see what she had tripped on.
It was the wheel rut from carriages trundling down the road...
The road. Oh god. Dragging herself out of the memory she fought to wake up.
Desperate to be wrong, inside her head she was stuck on repeat thinking, "No no no, not a road, please god not a road."
Reaching the surface of her mind she finally woke up.
The sunlight was blinding when she first opened her eyes, even though it was filtered through the veil of clothing on the arm that covered her face. Fear filler her as she gave her eyes time to adjust to the light. Thoughts that her savage life had buried began to flow through her mind, and terror began to take hold. Her fiancée, her father, the blood, the terror. It all rushed back in and tried to drown her.
Fighting down the urge to run she realised that she had to look. She had to know where she was.
She calmed her racing heart, slowed her breathing, and removed the clothing that covered her face....
>> Continue to part 5 - New Light >>
The night is a time for hunters, stealthy nightmares that prowl in the darkness while the weak run and hide.
In the night, the stillness is broken only by bursts of lunatic laughter as the hunters terrorise their prey, and by hollow screams of the dying.
A dream creeps through the forest on tiny silent feet. She is a dream. She has no presence. She something seen, but not really there. Insubstantial. Something noticed, but then easily forgotten. She slips in and out of the shadow forest like a whisper on the breeze. This is Sarah, or at least what is left of her. She has learned to live as a wraith. A shimmer in the darkness.
Through all the months since she awoke, half submerged on the bank of the river, Sarah wandered. She wandered away from the pungent sting of the ocean salt and off through the forest.
At first she blundered forward, tripping on roots and branches. Snagging her clothes on every twig and bramble. The forest animals fled at the noise of her passing and she grew hungry.
With the desperation of the dying she ate whatever she could find. At first grubs and grasses were all she could manage but as she grew into her life in the forest and her skeleton forced it's way out thorough her whithering flesh, she became desperate enough, and light enough, to take to the trees. The birds eggs were delicious. Rich and warm. So much better than grubs.
One evening, a mother bird retuned to it's nest while Sarah still crouched on the branch beside it, sucking an egg from it's fragile shell. The bird noticed her, but was too distraught be the sight of the empty nest to pay her much attention. Frozen at the sight of the bird, Sarah's mouth flooded with saliva. She could almost remember what meat tasted like.
The bird began to urgently hop around it's nest, and when it reached the point closest to Sarah, she leapt. With both hands she grabbed onto the silky feathers, and together they fell. The ground was soft with leaf littler, but the little bird landed between Sarah and the ground. It lay broken and dead, but still somehow beautiful. With broken wings and dripping blood, Sarah thought it to be the most beautiful thing she had ever seen.
The bird marked a turning point for Sarah. She learned that she was capable of killing, capable of fighting, capable of surviving on her own. This is when she began to move through the forest like a hunter. Her steps became quieter, and eventually silent. She learned the voices of the forest, and forsaking the language she was taught as a child, she began to speak as one of the animals. The distress calls of prey that she had heard in the past soon gurgled in her throat as she lured the night predators to her waiting hands and snarling mouth.
She became wild. More wild than the howling wolves. More wild than the wind on the ocean.
She lived for the half light between day and night, where animals were restless and tired, moving to bed after a day of hunting, or just waking up for the night. They were less careful then, more easily caught and subdued. In the half light, Sarah would fly through the forest on feather feet like a ghost. The dirt on her clothes and embedded in her skin made her the same colour as the twilight, invisible to any watching eyes. She was one with the earth and the birds and the sky.
Then the sun would lighted the eastern sky with a promise to rise and the earth would call her down to sleep. With a full stomach she would curl up where she stopped and forget all the world around her.
One night when she stopped, it was on a particularly hard patch of ground. Crawling along it, following a shallow rut in one direction, it seemed to stretch on for ever, but turning to the side she found a soft mound of dirt quite quickly. Curling up in a ball she placed her arm over her head to shield her face from the light of the quickly rising sun.
Something pulled at her brain as she lay there, drifting off to sleep. Something familiar about that hard ground and that rut running through it. The nagging thought in her brain swum into her dreams as she fell deeply into sleep.
A memory floated to the surface of her mind, becoming clearer with each hour as she slipped away from concious thought. The memory was from her childhood. She had been playing the in the garden across from her home when she heard the kitchen maids calling her in for supper. Exited to see her father at the table she had leapt up and run. She ran so fast that when she tripped she felt like he was flying through the air. When she landed it was bloody. Skinned elbows and knees. Ripped dress.
With tears in her eyes she had hobbled back to see what she had tripped on.
It was the wheel rut from carriages trundling down the road...
The road. Oh god. Dragging herself out of the memory she fought to wake up.
Desperate to be wrong, inside her head she was stuck on repeat thinking, "No no no, not a road, please god not a road."
Reaching the surface of her mind she finally woke up.
The sunlight was blinding when she first opened her eyes, even though it was filtered through the veil of clothing on the arm that covered her face. Fear filler her as she gave her eyes time to adjust to the light. Thoughts that her savage life had buried began to flow through her mind, and terror began to take hold. Her fiancée, her father, the blood, the terror. It all rushed back in and tried to drown her.
Fighting down the urge to run she realised that she had to look. She had to know where she was.
She calmed her racing heart, slowed her breathing, and removed the clothing that covered her face....
>> Continue to part 5 - New Light >>
Monday, 25 August 2014
Girl in the Night - Part 3 - Insight
<< Return to part 2 - Flight <<
The world exploded in Sarah's ears as she crashed into the water. The hard surface slapped into her back and forced the air from her lungs. Bubbles rushed to the surface as she was forced down, down into the rocky river bed beneath the crystal clear water.
With the sky sailing by above her, Sarah could feel the current pressing her down and knew it would be pointless to struggle against it. A river this old and strong could not be conquered. Instead of fighting she let go. She had been fighting for so long, every nerve on edge, her strength stretched to the limit. The peace and quiet beneath the river was a welcome change. She relaxed into the rhythm of the river as it washed her back and forth across the ground, almost rocking her to sleep.
Her golden hair shifted gently around her face and tickled the back of her neck with the tiny eddies in the flowing water. The fine net her hair cast was so beautiful against the silver blue rippling sky above her, that she started to sink more deeply into relaxation.
The agony in her lungs began to subside and through the icy water she felt her face pull into a smile. At least they wouldn't be able to catch her now.
When the blackness overtook her she welcomed it with an open mind. She welcomed the respite from her aching body and her broken heart.
***
Sarah woke slowly in the misty morning light. The pillow beneath her head was cold, the bed hard and lumpy. Groaning as she moved, she rolled over to pull up the covers. The icy silk sliped between her fingers. Normally when she woke she was warm and comfortable in her huge bed. The maids would be clattering around in the kitchen, and the smell of bread would waft up the stairs. This was different. She was cold and sore, and the hard uncomfortable thing beneath her was definitely not her bed. Letting her senses roam out in an attempt to determine her location, she heard a gentle bubbling of water, and she smelled the salty tang of the ocean.
With that smell it all came rushing back. The announcement, the death, the running, the fall.
Laying on the frozen rocky river bank she broke. The wave of grief crashed over her and tore her to splinters like a ship thrown onto a reef.
She cried forever. She cried until it was all that she could remember doing. She cried for herself, for William, for her father. She cried for everything that she had lost in less than a week.
When her tears ran out she sobbed. Dry, painful half screams rocked her body and tore from her chest. She curled into a ball and tried to hold herself together. It didn't work. She felt pieces of her soul crumbling into nothing. She was turning to dust and floating away with the breeze. With each shuddering breath she felt herself slipping. However, she also noticed the agony subsiding with every particle that left her and so she let go. She surrendered herself to the nothing and felt it all fading away.
When she had lost it all and nothing was left, exhaustion finally took over. Her body went limp and her mind roamed calmly through the memories piled up on the floor in her heart. Her thoughts no longer spun out of control into grief, but instead sank deeper into a kind of meditative self reflection that she had never felt before. She learned many things about herself, her life, and the world she lived in. More than anything else, she realised the mistakes that she made which had led her to that point.
She had trusted. She had loved. She had relied on men to look after her. She had been soft and fragile. It was her fault. The men in her life had never been perfect, but Sarah realised that she was to blame for allowing them such control over her in the first place. She should have been learning about the world and how to take care of herself, instead of worrying about what dress to wear and how to style her hair so that she would be more pretty than all the other girls. She should never have blindly trusted the men who were supposed to protect her.
Drawing strength from this realisation, and her new resolve to never make those mistakes again, a burning determination filled her body and flames hardened her heart.
Sarah pulled herself from where she lay, half submerged in the river, and began her journey inland.
>> Proceed to part 4 - Half Light >>
The world exploded in Sarah's ears as she crashed into the water. The hard surface slapped into her back and forced the air from her lungs. Bubbles rushed to the surface as she was forced down, down into the rocky river bed beneath the crystal clear water.
With the sky sailing by above her, Sarah could feel the current pressing her down and knew it would be pointless to struggle against it. A river this old and strong could not be conquered. Instead of fighting she let go. She had been fighting for so long, every nerve on edge, her strength stretched to the limit. The peace and quiet beneath the river was a welcome change. She relaxed into the rhythm of the river as it washed her back and forth across the ground, almost rocking her to sleep.
Her golden hair shifted gently around her face and tickled the back of her neck with the tiny eddies in the flowing water. The fine net her hair cast was so beautiful against the silver blue rippling sky above her, that she started to sink more deeply into relaxation.
The agony in her lungs began to subside and through the icy water she felt her face pull into a smile. At least they wouldn't be able to catch her now.
When the blackness overtook her she welcomed it with an open mind. She welcomed the respite from her aching body and her broken heart.
***
Sarah woke slowly in the misty morning light. The pillow beneath her head was cold, the bed hard and lumpy. Groaning as she moved, she rolled over to pull up the covers. The icy silk sliped between her fingers. Normally when she woke she was warm and comfortable in her huge bed. The maids would be clattering around in the kitchen, and the smell of bread would waft up the stairs. This was different. She was cold and sore, and the hard uncomfortable thing beneath her was definitely not her bed. Letting her senses roam out in an attempt to determine her location, she heard a gentle bubbling of water, and she smelled the salty tang of the ocean.
With that smell it all came rushing back. The announcement, the death, the running, the fall.
Laying on the frozen rocky river bank she broke. The wave of grief crashed over her and tore her to splinters like a ship thrown onto a reef.
She cried forever. She cried until it was all that she could remember doing. She cried for herself, for William, for her father. She cried for everything that she had lost in less than a week.
When her tears ran out she sobbed. Dry, painful half screams rocked her body and tore from her chest. She curled into a ball and tried to hold herself together. It didn't work. She felt pieces of her soul crumbling into nothing. She was turning to dust and floating away with the breeze. With each shuddering breath she felt herself slipping. However, she also noticed the agony subsiding with every particle that left her and so she let go. She surrendered herself to the nothing and felt it all fading away.
When she had lost it all and nothing was left, exhaustion finally took over. Her body went limp and her mind roamed calmly through the memories piled up on the floor in her heart. Her thoughts no longer spun out of control into grief, but instead sank deeper into a kind of meditative self reflection that she had never felt before. She learned many things about herself, her life, and the world she lived in. More than anything else, she realised the mistakes that she made which had led her to that point.
She had trusted. She had loved. She had relied on men to look after her. She had been soft and fragile. It was her fault. The men in her life had never been perfect, but Sarah realised that she was to blame for allowing them such control over her in the first place. She should have been learning about the world and how to take care of herself, instead of worrying about what dress to wear and how to style her hair so that she would be more pretty than all the other girls. She should never have blindly trusted the men who were supposed to protect her.
Drawing strength from this realisation, and her new resolve to never make those mistakes again, a burning determination filled her body and flames hardened her heart.
Sarah pulled herself from where she lay, half submerged in the river, and began her journey inland.
>> Proceed to part 4 - Half Light >>
Tuesday, 22 July 2014
Girl in the Night - Part 2 - Flight
<< Return to part 1 - Sarah <<
When Sarah fled her home, at first she was chased only by the ghost of her fallen love, but it was not long before men chased her too. When her senseless screams had run out of breath and her feet had fallen into a steady rhythm, she would hear the horses galloping after her.
Her father, she knew, would have sent people out to search for her. There was probably even a reward posted for her safe return to him. But she couldn't go back. She wouldn't survive if she had to go back. The salt laden air would drown her.
It had been easy for them to follow her at first. The echo of her screams as she ran had surely woken nearly everyone she passed through the city, and once in the wilderness her careless passage and constant falls had left an easy trail for all to find.
With the events of the evening playing through her mind, Sarah ran through the night and into the small hours of the morning. She tripped and fell many times, and eventually she didn't get back up. Exhaustion overtook her and she lay sprawled on her face in the leaf litter. Exhaustion and sorrow drowned her in sleep for the remainder of the night and much of the following day.
In the late afternoon she was jolted from sleep by the muffled sound of hooves, crunching trough the leaves close by.
She froze, panic flooding trough her veins.
The fear leapt up inside her and urged her to run, to flee from this captor who would drag her back to her father, to the wedding announcement that she had barely escaped with her life.
She knew her father would miss her, but she simply couldn't face it. The scenarios that played out in her head when she heard those hoof falls all ended in humiliation. She had been a queen with William on her arm. She could not return as a peasant without him.
With her heart racing in her chest Sarah took a careful inventory of her body. It was aching and sore from the unprecedented exercise of the previous night, but she discovered that the pain was bearable.
The horse was coming closer and Sarah could hear the soft hum of the man on it's back. The sound of the man struck her to the core. It was the voice of Lord Henry. The voice of the man who had stolen everything from her.
The panic had transformed into terror at the sound of his voice and Sarah could contain herself no longer.
She scrambled to her feet and fled deeper into the forest, giving no heed to the startled whinny of the horse, or the angry yell of the man as she rose from almost nothing right beneath them.
Although Sarah was sore, and the horse was fresh and sprightly, the close packed trees and dense shrubs of the forest made the horse and riders progress slow and cumbersome.
Cursing at his horse, and at Sarah's fleeing back Lord Henry dismounted and began to chase her down on foot. Being a large strong man, it was like the under brush parted for him as he swept through it.
"Sarah! Come back here girl! I'm going to catch you anyway, best not to make it harder on yourself!", the voice rang out behind her. The predator taunting it's prey.
The anger in his voice spurred her on. She couldn't let him catch her. God only knew what he would do. She might meet the same fate as her beloved and not even make it back to her father.
Despite her efforts she felt him gaining behind her. The brambles snagged in her hair, her clothes, he skin. She traded the golden strands from her head, the cloth from her dress, and pieces of her perfect flesh in exchange for each step.
Her breathing ragged, she surged through the ocean of green. Green tangles at her feet, green branches in her face, green leaves above her head, and a man, a man pursuing behind her.
Just as he reached his hand out to take her, she felt the vegetation thinning out just ahead.
The clear sunlight striking spears of gold through the suffocating green seemed like a blessing. Somehow she knew that if she could just make the clearing she would be free.
With a final leap she escaped the dense vegetation.
There was a moment when she hung in the air. Perfectly still. Suspended like a star in the endless blue sky. Then she fell.
The thick vegetation had hidden the cliff edge from view until the very second that she had flown over it.
Lord Henry was saved from the same fate by the few steps that he had trailed behind her. As he saw her falling he grasped the thick vegetation and skidded to a halt on the cliff edge. Grasping a sapling for safety he watched Sarah as she flew through the air, and the clear blue water rushed up to meet her.
>> Continue to part 3 - Insight >>
When Sarah fled her home, at first she was chased only by the ghost of her fallen love, but it was not long before men chased her too. When her senseless screams had run out of breath and her feet had fallen into a steady rhythm, she would hear the horses galloping after her.
Her father, she knew, would have sent people out to search for her. There was probably even a reward posted for her safe return to him. But she couldn't go back. She wouldn't survive if she had to go back. The salt laden air would drown her.
It had been easy for them to follow her at first. The echo of her screams as she ran had surely woken nearly everyone she passed through the city, and once in the wilderness her careless passage and constant falls had left an easy trail for all to find.
With the events of the evening playing through her mind, Sarah ran through the night and into the small hours of the morning. She tripped and fell many times, and eventually she didn't get back up. Exhaustion overtook her and she lay sprawled on her face in the leaf litter. Exhaustion and sorrow drowned her in sleep for the remainder of the night and much of the following day.
In the late afternoon she was jolted from sleep by the muffled sound of hooves, crunching trough the leaves close by.
She froze, panic flooding trough her veins.
The fear leapt up inside her and urged her to run, to flee from this captor who would drag her back to her father, to the wedding announcement that she had barely escaped with her life.
She knew her father would miss her, but she simply couldn't face it. The scenarios that played out in her head when she heard those hoof falls all ended in humiliation. She had been a queen with William on her arm. She could not return as a peasant without him.
With her heart racing in her chest Sarah took a careful inventory of her body. It was aching and sore from the unprecedented exercise of the previous night, but she discovered that the pain was bearable.
The horse was coming closer and Sarah could hear the soft hum of the man on it's back. The sound of the man struck her to the core. It was the voice of Lord Henry. The voice of the man who had stolen everything from her.
The panic had transformed into terror at the sound of his voice and Sarah could contain herself no longer.
She scrambled to her feet and fled deeper into the forest, giving no heed to the startled whinny of the horse, or the angry yell of the man as she rose from almost nothing right beneath them.
Although Sarah was sore, and the horse was fresh and sprightly, the close packed trees and dense shrubs of the forest made the horse and riders progress slow and cumbersome.
Cursing at his horse, and at Sarah's fleeing back Lord Henry dismounted and began to chase her down on foot. Being a large strong man, it was like the under brush parted for him as he swept through it.
"Sarah! Come back here girl! I'm going to catch you anyway, best not to make it harder on yourself!", the voice rang out behind her. The predator taunting it's prey.
The anger in his voice spurred her on. She couldn't let him catch her. God only knew what he would do. She might meet the same fate as her beloved and not even make it back to her father.
Despite her efforts she felt him gaining behind her. The brambles snagged in her hair, her clothes, he skin. She traded the golden strands from her head, the cloth from her dress, and pieces of her perfect flesh in exchange for each step.
Her breathing ragged, she surged through the ocean of green. Green tangles at her feet, green branches in her face, green leaves above her head, and a man, a man pursuing behind her.
Just as he reached his hand out to take her, she felt the vegetation thinning out just ahead.
The clear sunlight striking spears of gold through the suffocating green seemed like a blessing. Somehow she knew that if she could just make the clearing she would be free.
With a final leap she escaped the dense vegetation.
There was a moment when she hung in the air. Perfectly still. Suspended like a star in the endless blue sky. Then she fell.
The thick vegetation had hidden the cliff edge from view until the very second that she had flown over it.
Lord Henry was saved from the same fate by the few steps that he had trailed behind her. As he saw her falling he grasped the thick vegetation and skidded to a halt on the cliff edge. Grasping a sapling for safety he watched Sarah as she flew through the air, and the clear blue water rushed up to meet her.
>> Continue to part 3 - Insight >>
Friday, 6 June 2014
Girl in the Night - Part 1 - Sarah
Sarah lay in her bed, listening to the cool night settling around her tiny house. The gentle breathing of the wind, the sound of people laughing, and crackle of a camp fire were all familiar, safe sounds in the sweet little town on the edge of nowhere. Lulled to the edge of sleep, a strange whispering reached her as she drifted away. The poisonous voice twisted through a crack in the wall and crept into the deepest corners of her mind. All night as she slept, the whispering voice filled her mind with wild dreams of the life she could have had with the man she used to love.
In the beginning her life was simple, she lived in a beautiful home on a quiet tree lined street in a wonderful bustling city. Her father had enough money to buy her books, dresses, jewellery, fine food, and to employ several servants to cook for her, clean for her, and entertain her when required.
Sarah's overwhelming beauty, combined with her fathers money meant that there was always a party to go to, a new friend to charm, and an former friend to shun.
Spoiled as she was, she had had no problems accepting the advances of William, a man even more beautiful, selfish and spoiled than herself. She saw him and she wanted him, not just for the increase in status she would gain, or for the money, but because everyone else wanted him. She would be the envy of every girl who had ever had the misfortune of laying eyes on him.
William captured her immediately, he was wild and beautiful as the waves that crash on the sea shore. He destroyed lesser men like ships in a hurricane. He dashed them to pieces on the rocks and pulled them down into his endless depths.
Despite the seemingly endless influence and power that had drawn Sarah into his arms, even the ocean must bow to the rule of Neptune, so too William was slave to the will of his father.
Lord Henry had always controlled Williams life, using him like a pawn in an unending quest for more money, more influence, more power. Maybe William should have submitted to his fathers wishes the night that he announced his intention to marry Sarah, but at least he died for love.
After months of secret walks through groves of swirling autumn leaves, and a stolen kiss in the shadows between street lights, Sarah and William had made the decision to spend their lives together.
With a mix of joyous love for each other and a twisted love for defiance, William had announced their plan to wed. Though the couple had prepared for anger and disapproval, they were not at all prepared for the blind rage in Lord Henry's eyes, or the knife in his hand.
The men had roared and crashed together like lighting in the sky, each trying to force the other into submission.
At last, calling William a "petulant fool with no place in this house", and Sarah "a scheming harlot who would never get the chance to sully the family name with her lowly blood", Lord Henry had backhanded William into a book case and unflinchingly forced his blade deep into Williams stomach.
The world stopped turning then. Every eye on every human alive stared as William slumped against the book case and slid down onto the floor. Sarah stood watching in horror as the seconds stretched out into years, torn between wanting to run, and needing to stay. Her knees betrayed her and she fell to the floor at his side. She pressed her hands to the wound and felt the warm blood pulsing from his body as his life drained out from between her trembling hands.
When the blood had stopped the world moved again, Lord Henry dragged his eyes from the face of his son and it was like the world wanted to overcompensate by moving into double speed.
With a whirl of colour and movement Sarah felt a sharp pain in her stomach as Lord Henry kicked her away from the silent empty body that used to be his son. She fell to the ground a few feet away and stared into the eyes of her one love, as his father wept upon his chest.
After a minute or an hour, a day or a year, Sarah found herself face to face with Lord Henry. He was standing again and advancing towards her, the bloody knife still in his hand. She sprang up from the floor raced from the room. Lord Henry's words chased her through the house with accusations of having brought shame to William and his family. Sarah's father might be wealthy, but that didn't make her worthy.
With tears streaming down her cheek and agony tearing at her heart, she fled the house. She ran down the street through the cold night, haunted by every corner where they had met, every bench upon which they had sat and laughed. Skidding on the wet stone walkway she finally came to a stop in front of her house. The lights from the windows dappled the front lawn and she could just make out the spot where she and William had hidden after escaping their chaperone, and where he had first kissed her. She raised her trembling fingers to her lips and felt the sweet echo of that kiss. The first that they would ever share, and now the last.
Through the open windows she could see all the scenes of the life they could have shared together playing on repeat.
The memories crowded around her, pulling at her, threatening to tear her apart. No, she would never find sanctuary in this house again. It too was haunted now.
She turned away from it all and ran out into the night, away from her home, away from her father, away from her love, and way from her life.
>> Continue to part 2 - Flight >>
In the beginning her life was simple, she lived in a beautiful home on a quiet tree lined street in a wonderful bustling city. Her father had enough money to buy her books, dresses, jewellery, fine food, and to employ several servants to cook for her, clean for her, and entertain her when required.
Sarah's overwhelming beauty, combined with her fathers money meant that there was always a party to go to, a new friend to charm, and an former friend to shun.
Spoiled as she was, she had had no problems accepting the advances of William, a man even more beautiful, selfish and spoiled than herself. She saw him and she wanted him, not just for the increase in status she would gain, or for the money, but because everyone else wanted him. She would be the envy of every girl who had ever had the misfortune of laying eyes on him.
William captured her immediately, he was wild and beautiful as the waves that crash on the sea shore. He destroyed lesser men like ships in a hurricane. He dashed them to pieces on the rocks and pulled them down into his endless depths.
Despite the seemingly endless influence and power that had drawn Sarah into his arms, even the ocean must bow to the rule of Neptune, so too William was slave to the will of his father.
Lord Henry had always controlled Williams life, using him like a pawn in an unending quest for more money, more influence, more power. Maybe William should have submitted to his fathers wishes the night that he announced his intention to marry Sarah, but at least he died for love.
After months of secret walks through groves of swirling autumn leaves, and a stolen kiss in the shadows between street lights, Sarah and William had made the decision to spend their lives together.
With a mix of joyous love for each other and a twisted love for defiance, William had announced their plan to wed. Though the couple had prepared for anger and disapproval, they were not at all prepared for the blind rage in Lord Henry's eyes, or the knife in his hand.
The men had roared and crashed together like lighting in the sky, each trying to force the other into submission.
At last, calling William a "petulant fool with no place in this house", and Sarah "a scheming harlot who would never get the chance to sully the family name with her lowly blood", Lord Henry had backhanded William into a book case and unflinchingly forced his blade deep into Williams stomach.
The world stopped turning then. Every eye on every human alive stared as William slumped against the book case and slid down onto the floor. Sarah stood watching in horror as the seconds stretched out into years, torn between wanting to run, and needing to stay. Her knees betrayed her and she fell to the floor at his side. She pressed her hands to the wound and felt the warm blood pulsing from his body as his life drained out from between her trembling hands.
When the blood had stopped the world moved again, Lord Henry dragged his eyes from the face of his son and it was like the world wanted to overcompensate by moving into double speed.
With a whirl of colour and movement Sarah felt a sharp pain in her stomach as Lord Henry kicked her away from the silent empty body that used to be his son. She fell to the ground a few feet away and stared into the eyes of her one love, as his father wept upon his chest.
After a minute or an hour, a day or a year, Sarah found herself face to face with Lord Henry. He was standing again and advancing towards her, the bloody knife still in his hand. She sprang up from the floor raced from the room. Lord Henry's words chased her through the house with accusations of having brought shame to William and his family. Sarah's father might be wealthy, but that didn't make her worthy.
With tears streaming down her cheek and agony tearing at her heart, she fled the house. She ran down the street through the cold night, haunted by every corner where they had met, every bench upon which they had sat and laughed. Skidding on the wet stone walkway she finally came to a stop in front of her house. The lights from the windows dappled the front lawn and she could just make out the spot where she and William had hidden after escaping their chaperone, and where he had first kissed her. She raised her trembling fingers to her lips and felt the sweet echo of that kiss. The first that they would ever share, and now the last.
Through the open windows she could see all the scenes of the life they could have shared together playing on repeat.
The memories crowded around her, pulling at her, threatening to tear her apart. No, she would never find sanctuary in this house again. It too was haunted now.
She turned away from it all and ran out into the night, away from her home, away from her father, away from her love, and way from her life.
>> Continue to part 2 - Flight >>
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