Girl in the Night - Part 5 - New Light

<< 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 >>

Beautiful World

With the sound of roaring thunder,
and water diamonds in the air.
A river falling over clifftop,
reckless wonder with no care.

With the quiet drip of something,
deep within the ground.
Caves of infinite darkness,
so many treasures to be found.

With thin air that's hard for breathing,
high above it all.
Mountains touching heaven,
hear the universe call.

With green at every turn,
and nature all around.
Timeless forest growing,
lost in sight and sound.

With music and with laughter
with light drowning stars.
People revel through the city,
driving in fast cars.

With an ever restless soul,
and blue horizon eyes.
I have seen so much of the world,
beneath these endless skies.

The world is a beautiful place,
with many amazing things to do.
But for all my endless wanders,
I know one thing to be true.

Though there is still so much I haven't done,
I would rather just sit and waste my time with you.

Nap Time

So much to do,
no time to lose.
Work to finish,
things to prove.

People to see,
stories to write.
Dinner to cook,
battles to fight.

Tears to cry,
smiles to grin.
A burden to carry
and love to fall in.

There is so much to do,
I've no time to lose,
I'll never get it all done,
So I think I'll take a nap.

It's Still You

When someone dies
and everyone cries,
there are tears in my eyes.
but I'm crying for you.

You died long ago,
and somehow I know,
to put on a show,
and pretend I'm over you.

Death gives me a break,
from being a fake,
I can acknowledge the ache,
in my soul still for you.

I can pretend to be sad,
for their life no longer had,
but secretly I'm glad,
that once again I can mourn you.

It's too long for me,
since you were set free,
to still be unhappy,
I should be over you.

But even after all these years,
of love and tears,
of laughter and fears.
I only ever care about you.

I don't have a clue,
how to live, what to do,
but I know this to be true,
Every breath I take is still for you.

Things I'll Never Say

The things that mater most, are the things I will never say.
A broken promise inside my heart, forever you must stay.

People read my stories and think, that my life must have been hard.
But none of them will ever know, the real reason that I'm scarred.

Some things are just too hard, to say or speak about out loud.
That doesn't mean that I don't miss you, when I'm alone or lost in the crowd.

The wound is just too real for me, even after all these years.
and I know how sad it would make you, to see me always in tears.

So I think I'll just miss you quietly, in the hollow space inside my heart.
The space that was carved out to hold you, right from the very start.

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 >>

This Shadow Life - Take Me Home

Today I went walking in the forest. I don't know why. I didn't plan it. I just found myself getting up from the lounge, putting down the chocolate, and tying up my shoes.
As a rule I don't exercise. It's easier to do nothing. It's easier to hate myself.
I know I need to make changes, but it's so much easier to just sit back down and watch another movie. To watch other people living wonderful, fulfilling lives. It's easier to be nothing myself.

Today was different somehow. It's like something was calling to me. Something I couldn't see or hear. Something inspiring movement in my wasted limbs. Something calling out to my very soul.
Through the open fields I wandered. Mindlessly placing one foot in front of the other, drawn onwards, ever onwards.
With time the field gave way to trees. The forest grew up around me with each laboured breath I took. It was too small to notice at fist, but with every step that I took through the trees I felt the peace growing back into my heart. With every breath I felt the self loathing slip away, I saw the world grow brighter. With every step my heart grew lighter, my mind clearer. With my body moving my thoughts gained purpose. To the rhythm of my breathing I contemplated myself. With the sun shining I remembered who I am.
Then the rain came down, gentle at first. It filled my lungs and clung to my eyelashes. It was like walking through a cloud. I smiled through the water as I felt a bubble rising in my chest.
Then the rain got heavy. It poured over me and I stopped. I stopped to hear the beat of the earth's heart dripping through my blood. I stopped to revel in the calm, in the elation, in the peace. I stopped to revel in myself. I turned my face to the sky and the bubble finally reached the surface. I laughed. The rain washed me clean. Washed my soul clean.

When the hate creeps in, it's like poison. Slow and patient and deadly. It seeps into my bones with every second that I spend away from this place. From the living forest that reminds me I'm alive.
Most often I am dying so long that I forget to even come back here. I don't notice myself changing. I feel fine. Until the forest calls me back here and reminds me who I am. It draws the poison out. It folds me deep into it's embrace. It reminds me that there is still beauty. Still purpose. Still peace to be found.
This life I have chosen. This path I am on. I think it is good for me, but it is so not good for me. There are no trees where I work, but the money is good. It's a good job. It's everything I was ever supposed to have. But as the poison sinks in, sometimes I hear the forest calling me home.