This is a story i have made up. So far noone has read it and i will continue posting as i write.

Our story starts in a time long past with men that are long since dead, and a rose that’s petals glowed gold in the sun and nectar that shone blood red...

Prologue – Times Past

A story has been told among my family for generations. Long ago a beautiful woman lived; her hair as golden as the sun, her eyes as blue as the sky and she was everything beautiful in the world. She lived in a place and a time where no suffering, no pain existed. Life was good. She was the daughter of the king and the king was loved by all those he ruled over. He reigned over his people and they were happy and all was peaceful - until one day. In this time of peace and prosperity stories and rumours were spread of the ones that lived in the lands below; the savage beasts and wild people, those who were not like them; not joyful nor happy. One day a sound was heard throughout the lands, a sound of pain and suffering. The peaceful king tried to reason with ones from below but they did not listen, and they were no match for the savagery of the ones from below. They who lived in peace and harmony died suffering and those who did not die were driven underground, to a dark place where smiles of joy were replaced with tears of pain and sorrow, never to be heard from again. The ones from below took the land and made it a place of suffering and misery. The golden haired girl was the first to die in the slaughter that was the downfall of this kingdom, taken and killed in front of those who had loved and cared for her so deeply. The one they loved so dear fell to the ground in a pool of crimson blood. Her father, the king, rushed to her side but she was already gone, taken from him in the cruellest way. Turmoil raged around him as the savages spread war on those so undeserving, and blood soaked the ground around him but all he saw was the limp body of his daughter resting in his arms. Taking a white rose from his garden the king filled it with what was left of his daughter’s blood. The petals turned gold and shone in the last rays of sun their race would see for centuries.
The rose became something powerful that day. Each person drank from the blood and they knew that they had changed and would never die of old age or sickness, doomed to lie in that dark place for all of eternity. They hid the rose deep within the caverns down below, in a nest of thorns.
For thousands of years people from other races have tried to retrieve the rose, but none have ever acquired its gifts. The thorns are poisonous to all but one pure of heart that will drink from the nectar and care for the queen’s spirit. But now the rose is dying. Wilting in the caves below; forgotten by all, and only one can save it.

Chapter 1 – Shana

“Mama!” screamed the girl running to her mother’s side. The wound was bleeding heavily and crimson blood ran down her pale skin. “Mama no!” the young girls shrill voice echoed down the long corridors of the house. Tears streamed down her face and her cheeks were stained red. Two hands clutched her shoulders and began dragging her from the bed but she fought against them. A woman placed her arms around the girl’s middle picking her up and taking her out of the room. Dropping her in the hall outside the woman shut the door, locking the girl in the hall. She banged desperately against the door as she heard her mother’s screams of pain but it was no use. Tears dribbled off her chin as she dropped down onto the floor. Her chocking sobs were the only sound to be heard besides the anguished cries through the door.
After long painful hours of waiting in silence the girl stood, as the lock in the door clicked, and a man in a white coat stepped out of the room. His coat was stained with her mother’s blood and the girl cried out. Stepping up to the girl the man knelt so he was almost her height. “Your mother is better now” the man said “but the bullet brushed her heart. She is in a lot of pain and will take time to recover – if she ever does. It is still lodged very close to her heart and we may not have stopped all the bleeding, but I cannot tell.” He reached his hand towards hers only to have her pull it away from him. She rushed to the door and gasped as she saw all the blood-covered gauss and towels. “Shana” a faint voice came from within the room. It was her mother. The young girl ran into the room stopping as she saw her mother. Her chest was covered in blood-stained gauss and her face was as pale as a sheet. Shana walked to the bed and perched on the edge of a chair that sat beside it. She placed her hands on the bed; she was shaking. Her mother cupped her hands over her daughters and smiled faintly then winced as a wave of pain washed over her. “Mama” said Shana her eyes full of tears. “Yes baby girl mama’s here” whispered her mother.
* * * * *
Shana’s dreams were filled with blood and pain; agonising pain. She woke with a start and sat quietly in the dark room, tears flowing down her face. Moonlight slipped through the window illuminating her pale face and casting long, wavering shadows over the room. She sat there for a long while in silence, thinking to herself how could this happen? In her mind she went over what happened and again and again. The rebels came to the house, tried to steal their horse but mother ran outside and the gun fired. Shana ran to her mother’s side as the rebels rode away and sat in a pool of blood. Shana shut her eyes as another stream of tears erupted from them and once again sat silently in the dark, her raven hair draped over her face.
The first white beams of sunlight flowed into the room as the sun rose above the horizon. Shana dressed quickly then, running as fast as she dared in her long dress, sped to her mother’s side. The nurses had just finished changing the bandages so the wound was covered in fresh white strips and a pile of crimson fabric sat on the countertop. She walked slowly to the side of the bed and once again perched on the edge of the chair. He mother’s eyes fluttered slightly then opened, the once beautiful blue eyes now filled with pain. They smiled slightly at each other then her mother shut her eyes and breathed in deeply. Her whole body shook as the air entered her lungs causing her pain. Shana sat by the bed in silence as the nurses busied themselves caring for her mother; she was content to stare out the window and know her mother was beside her.
Her mother slept for most of the day so near midday Shana silently slipped out of the room and went downstairs to the kitchen. She buttered herself some bread then returned to her mother who still slept. Shana continued to sit by her mother’s side for three days, only leaving to eat or to sleep; hoping desperately her mother would wake and tell her everything would be ok. On the morning of the fourth day the doctor came back accompanied by a man who asked if he could talk to Shana alone. They entered a small room two away from her mother’s. There were three chairs in it, a small table and lots of boxes. Shana sat in one of the chairs and the man took the chair opposite. He was tall and had big brown eyes. He wore a grey suit, grey shirt, grey tie and black shoes. He was a very boring looking man. Neither his eyes or face smiled and he looked, Shana thought, like the type of man that you would see in the city. He crossed one leg over the other and knotted his fingers then studied Shana. The twelve year old looked a lot younger than she actually was. She was short for her age and she probably only looked around nine or ten. Her face was small and her skin pale. Her hair was jet black and her eyes sky blue which gave her a very exotic appearance. The man began to speak, as if he was speaking to a very small child.
“Your mummy is very sick” said the man drawing out the words as if she wouldn’t understand. “I’m twelve” Shana burst out making the man jump, “talk to me like I am!” The comment seemed to confuse the man for a moment but then he continued on. “The bullet went very close to her heart. She is bleeding inside and it is unlikely she will ever recover and if she does, defiantly not in the immediate future. The nurses have neither the time nor the resources to care for both you and your mother so she requested you be moved somewhere else”. Shana’s jaw dropped in shock. “Who? Who requested?” she shouted in outrage standing sharply and almost toppling the chair she had been sitting in over. “Your mother” said the man calmly. Shana fell silent and tears welled up in her eyes. The man continued talking “we have found only one member of your family that still lives in the country ...” She did not hear the name, she could not think. Ignoring the complaints of the man Shana ran to her mother.
“Why? Why mama?” she shouted tears streaming down her face. Her mother’s face looked soft and sympathetic though you could see the pain in her eyes. “I and no one here can care for you. I need to know that you are somewhere safe, somewhere you can be taken care of”. Shana paced back and forth in the room tears streaming from her eyes. “But I want to stay with you, I need to stay with you” she said facing her mother. “And I need you to go. I love you with all my heart that is why you must leave! If anything happened to you, I could never forgive myself”. Shana knelt by her mother’s bed “but if anything happened to you mama”. Tears splattered on the sheets of the bed. The two embraced, their bodies melding into one and they both felt pain together.

that prolog was depresing but it got me into it i liked it it was ok

Good idea, word choices, i liked it too but the sentences were a little awkwardly worded and organized at times!

....yay replies!!!
@eragon&arya; thats sorta the point really...meant to be depressing..iv thought long and hard about this story and its going to be sad iv decided

Chapter 2- Alone

The soft morning light of dawn slipped through the open window and spread itself over the room. No sound came from within the house; no one had yet stirred.
Shana moved slowly around the room placing items into a brown canvas bag. Her hair hung straight and lifeless down her back and her eyes were cold and filled with sadness. After a long time of arguing she had finally agreed to leave the house and travel, through London, into the western countryside. The small bag was all she had to carry her belongings and it was barely big enough to fit anything. After a long time of thought she finally chose a soft pink dress that her mother had made for her at her last birthday, a book of fairytales her father had given to her before he left to fight in the war and her childhood friend; a once soft teddy bear that’s’ fur was now matted and clumped together with grime and dust accumulated over the years.
A small squeak drifted through the window and Shana stared at the old carriage that had settled by the front of the house, waiting for her. The carriage was made of dark wood that had been battered and was flecked with dirt. Swirling patterns adorned the sides and the door but they had been worn away over time. An old grey horse was attached to it and an old man sat on a bench, holding the reigns in his hands. Shana breathed in deeply but every breath pained her, like he was being torn apart by the decision she had been forced to make.
Her bare feet padded against the dark wood floor making barely any noise at all as Shana threaded her way through the house making for the outside. She would have loved to stop at her mother’s room, to cling to every last moment they had together but she knew that if she did she would never leave so she walked quickly past the door, flinching as she saw her mother through the doorway.
The outside air was sharp and cold. As the wind whistled through her hair and frost nibbled at her nose, Shana stepped outside not daring to look back. The old man stepped down from the bench at the front of the carriage, opened the door and, in a daze, Shana climbed in. The door shut behind her and they started their slow journey to the train station. As the carriage set off, plodding slowly along, Shana peered back at the house. The old dark bricks were slightly crumbling, paint peeled from the window frames, the glass was clouded with dust and some roof tiles hung loose but it was still her home. She felt numb and tears stung her eyes but she refused to let them fall.
The journey was long. The old grey horse moved slowly but Shana did not complain she just sat on the hard seat; emotions and thoughts tearing through her mind like a hurricane. Cold mist swirled around the carriage whispering untold secrets in the dull morning light. Soon the sun rose higher in the sky and the mist dissipated as if running; trying to escape the sun’s rays. Though the sun shone brightly the air was still cold and the corners of the windows became branched with spindly, web-like icicles. Shana watched as her breath billowed out in front of her as soft white clouds. Looking out the window she saw fields leaden with fluffy white snow that sparkled like thousands of diamonds in the sunlight.
Finally they reached the station. Shana moved onto the platform and mixed in with the mess of people. She stood like a ghost, hardly noticed by anyone.
After a time the train pulled up, screeching as it reached the platform. The engine was moss green, smoke billowed from the chimney and a high-pitched squeal echoed down the platform emanating from the front cabin. The carriages were a dark crimson and through the windows Shana could see the people in first class moving around richly furnished cabins, finding their seats. Scurrying over to the train she boarded. Finding herself an empty car Shana slumped down on the green leather seats as the train lurched forward, grunting and groaning with the effort.
The train moved on throughout the day stopping every so often at small country stations. Many people got on and off, each face different to the last.
As they drew closer to the city things began to change. The stations became larger and grander. More trains passed them on the other rails, speeding off to wherever they were going, and the people changed as well. They now embarked in their hundreds wearing flashy suits and carrying shiny briefcases stuffed to the brim with important papers.
The city finally came into view and Shana stared wide-eyed at the many villa’s and other buildings that grew higher and higher into the distance. Cranes towered high above the city building newer and brighter creations.
The first stop in the city saw over half the people disembark in a flood of skin and polyester. The train sped along the tracks passing by thousands of people, cars, carriages and different buildings. The train stopped once more in the city then began to move away leaving civilisation behind. As the hours passed by so did many towns. At each stop one or two of the remaining passengers got off but no one got on eventually leaving Shana alone with her thoughts. By the time the train came to Shana’s stop the sun was already slipping below the horizon blushing the sky soft pink.
The train pulled away, creaking along the rails, leaving Shana behind on the deserted platform. The platform was roughly constructed. Old, blackened, foot-worn timbers were used for the floor, an on old hut acted as the ticket office and the only other things on the platform were an old dark-wood bench, a single weather-worn sign that’s white painted name had chipped away years ago and an abundance of lacy cobwebs. The boards groaned under her feet as Shana made her way towards the empty road that stretched away from the platform into the distance. Green fields surrounded the platform and the road, stretching out like a great green carpet. Black and white cows clustered under a single large tree in the distance basking in the last rays of the sun.
Shana sat on the edge of the platform watching the sun as it disappeared over the horizon and the sky began to dim. Eventually a cloud of dust rose from the road in the distance. The car stopped before Shana and a young man helped her in. Her eyelids became heavy as the car chugged on, jolting every now and then on the dirt road, as she drifted into an uneasy sleep.

I love the story! I hope you get to think of more. Fantastic story! ☻

wow thankyou...i guess ill have to get writing then coz this is all iv got

Wow this is interesting. If depressing is what you wer aiming for BING you got it lol. You better get typing!!! I want to read the next one

ok then...wow its been a while since iv been on here...

yes depressing that what im going for

iv actually changed it quite a bit since my last post because iv changed the persepctive so you see everything through shanas eyes then ofcorse iv added little bits in and taken bits out and that sort of thing. i will post the fist few chapters again tho you dont have to read them then what iv done up to so far.

im glad everyone's liking it ^.^. thanks silver for the help

______________________________________________________________
Our story starts in a time long past with men that are long since dead, and a rose that’s petals glowed gold in the sun and nectar that shone blood red...

Prologue – Times Past

A story has been told among my family for generations. Long ago a beautiful woman lived; her hair as golden as the sun, her eyes as blue as the sky and she was everything beautiful in the world. She lived in a place and a time where no suffering, no pain existed. Life was good. She was the daughter of the king and the king was loved by all those he ruled over. He reigned over his people and they were happy and all was peaceful - until one day. In this time of peace and prosperity stories and rumours were spread of the ones that lived in the lands below; the savage beasts and wild people, those who were not like them; not joyful nor happy. One day a sound was heard throughout the lands, a sound of pain and suffering. The peaceful king tried to reason with ones from below but they did not listen, and they were no match for the savagery of the ones from below. They who lived in peace and harmony died suffering and those who did not die were driven underground - to a dark place where smiles of joy were replaced with tears of pain and sorrow - never to be heard from again. The ones from below took the land and made it a place of suffering and misery. The golden haired girl was the first to die in the slaughter that was the downfall of this kingdom, taken and killed in front of those who had loved and cared for her so deeply. The one they loved so dear fell to the ground in a pool of crimson blood. Her father, the king, rushed to her side but she was already gone, taken from him in the cruellest way. Turmoil raged around the king as the savages spread war on those so undeserving, and blood soaked the ground around him but all he saw was the limp body of his daughter resting in his arms. Taking a white rose from his garden the king filled it with what was left of his daughter’s blood. The petals turned gold and shone in the last rays of sun their race would see for centuries.
The rose became something powerful that day. Each person drank from the blood and they knew that they had changed and would never die of old age or sickness, doomed to lie in that dark place for all of eternity.
They hid the rose deep within the caverns down below, in a nest of thorns. For thousands of years people from other races have tried to retrieve the rose, but none have ever acquired its gifts. The thorns are poisonous to all but one pure of heart that will drink from the nectar and care for the queen’s spirit. But now the rose is dying. Wilting in the caves below; forgotten by all, and only one can save it.

Chapter 1 – Shana

“Mama!” I screamed running to my mother’s side. The wound was bleeding heavily and crimson blood ran down her pale skin.
“Mama no!” a young girls shrill voice echoed down the long corridors of the house, I recognised it as my own. Tears streamed down my face and my body shook with anger, pain and fear. Two hands clutched my shoulders by I strained against them with all my might. A woman placed her arms around my middle picking me up with difficulty and dragging me from the room. Dropping her in the hall outside the woman shut the door, locking me in the hall. I banged desperately against the door as I heard mother’s screams of pain but it was no use.
Tears dribbled down and off my chin as I dropped down onto the floor. My chocking sobs were the only sound to be heard besides the anguished cries through the door.
After long painful hours of waiting in silence I stood, as the lock in the door clicked, and a man in a white coat stepped out of the room.
His coat was stained with my mother’s blood and a groan of pain tore from my lips before I could think. Stepping up to me warily the man knelt so I could see over his head. My heart ached.
“Your mother is better now,” the man said, “but the bullet brushed her heart. She is in a lot of pain and will take time to recover – if she ever does. It is still lodged very close to her heart and we may not have stopped all the bleeding, I cannot tell.” He reached his hand towards mine but I yanked it from his grasp. I rushed to the door and gasped as I caught site of the blood-covered gauss and towels.
“Shana” a faint voice came from within the room. It was mother.
I ran into the room stopping as I saw her. Her chest was covered in blood-stained gauss and her face was as pale as a sheet.
Walking to the bed I perched on the edge of a chair that sat beside it. I placed my hands on the bed; they were shaking uncontrollably. My mother cupped her hands over mine and smiled faintly then winced as a wave of pain washed over her.
“Mama” I said, my eyes full of tears.
“Yes baby girl mama’s here” whispered my mother.
* * * * *
My dreams were filled with blood and pain; agonising pain. I woke with a start and sat quietly in the dark room, tears flowing down my face. Moonlight slipped through the window illuminating my pale hands and casting long, wavering shadows over the room.
I sat there for a long while in silence, thinking to myself how could this happen? In my mind I saw what happened again and again. We were sitting at the table, drinking tea when a noise reached us – the horses. Mama went out to see what was happening. I remember hearing a loud bang, the shrill screech of the horses then the scream of my mother. I did not look around me, I only ran to her side and sat with her in a pool of blood, her head in my lap, until someone yanked me away
I shut my eyes as another stream of tears erupted from them and once again sat silently in the dark, my raven hair draped over my face.
The first white beams of sunlight flowed into the room as the sun rose above the horizon. I dressed quickly then, running as fast as I dared in my long dress, sped to my mother’s side. The nurses had just finished changing the bandages so the wound was covered in fresh white strips and a pile of crimson fabric sat on the countertop.
I walked slowly to the side of the bed and once again perched on the edge of the chair. Mother’s eyes fluttered slightly then opened, the once beautiful blue eyes now filled with pain.
We smiled slightly at each other for a second then she shut her eyes and breathed in deeply. Her whole body shook as the air entered her lungs causing her pain.
I sat by the bed in silence as the nurses busied themselves caring for my mother; I was content to stare out the window and know she was there by my side.
My mother slept for most of the day so near midday I silently slipped out of the room and went downstairs to the kitchen. Buttering some bread I wished it had been me that was shot, I could not bear to see mama in such pain. I returned her side but she slumbered on.
I continued to sit by her side for three days, only leaving to eat or to sleep; hoping desperately that she would wake and tell me everything would be ok.
On the morning of the fourth day the doctor came back accompanied by a man who asked if he could talk to me alone. I was reluctant to leave my mother but eventually I accompanied him out. We entered the box room two away from my mothers. There were three chairs in it, a small table and lots of boxes. I sat in the furthest chair and the man took the chair opposite. He was tall and had big brown eyes. He wore a grey suit, grey shirt, grey tie and black shoes. He was a very boring looking man.
Neither his eyes or face smiled and he looked, I thought, like the type of man that you would see in the city (not that I would know, we had always lived in small towns, away from others). He crossed one leg over the other and knotted his fingers then studied me.
I was 13 but I knew I looked a lot younger than I actually was. I was short for my age – always had been - and probably only looked around ten or eleven. My skin was very pale in sharp contrast to my hair which was jet lack. By bright blue eyes had always stood out and everyone said I looked very exotic, not at all what people would expect from a pure British blood family. The man began to speak, as if he was speaking to a very small child.
“Your mummy is very sick” said the man drawing out the words as if I wouldn’t understand. The anger I had held inside me for the last few days burst from me in a momentary lapse.
“I’m thirteen” I burst out making the man jump, “talk to me like I am!”
The comment seemed to confuse the man for a moment but then he continued on.
“The bullet went very close to her heart. She is bleeding inside and it is unlikely she will ever recover and if she does, defiantly not in the immediate future. The nurses have neither the time nor the resources to care for both you and your mother so she requested you be moved somewhere else”. I felt my jaw dropped in shock. The anger bubbled up inside me, like a serpent waiting to strike. How DARE they! “Who? Who requested?” I shouted in outrage standing sharply and almost toppling the chair I had been sitting in over.
“Your mother,” said the man calmly.
The anger fell away and pain replaced it. Mother? The man continued talking;
“we have found only one member of your family that still lives in the country ...” I did not hear the name or anything else, I could not think. Thoughts whirred through my head at a million miles an hour. I had to know if it was true; I had to hear it from her; I had to know why. Ignoring the complaints of the man I ran to my mother.
“Why? Why mama?” I shouted, trying desperately not to let my voice break, not to let the tears fall. Mama’s face looked soft and sympathetic though you could see the pain in her eyes.
“I and no one here can care for you. I need to know that you are somewhere safe, somewhere you can be taken care of”. I paced back and forth around the room, my vision blurred by the moisture in my eyes.
“But I want to stay with you, I need to stay with you” I said facing her – I had to make her see reason.
“And I need you to go. I love you with all my heart but that is why you must leave! If anything happened to you, I could never forgive myself”.
I knelt by my mother’s bed “but if anything happened to you mama...” Tears splattered on the sheets of the bed. We embraced, our bodies melding into one and we both felt pain together.
* * * * *
The soft light of dawn slipped through the open window and spread itself over the room. No sound came from within the house; no one had yet stirred.
I moved slowly around the room, drawing out each minute, placing items into an old bag. My hair hung straight and lifeless down my back and as I looked into the mirror my eyes were cold and hard.
After a long time of arguing I’d finally agreed to leave the house and travel, through London, into the western countryside. The small bag was all I had to carry my belongings and it was barely big enough to fit anything.
After a long time of thought I finally chose a pastel pink dress that mama had made for me at my last birthday, a book of fairytales father had given to me and my childhood friend; a once soft teddy bear that’s fur was now matted and clumped together with grime and dust accumulated over the years.
A small squeak drifted through the window and I stared at the old carriage that had settled by the front of the house, waiting to take me away.
The carriage was made of dark wood that had been battered and was flecked with dirt. Swirling patterns adorned the sides and the door but they had been worn away over time. An old grey horse was attached to it and an old man sat on a bench, holding the reigns in his hands.
I breathed in deeply though every breath pained me more than a thousand daggers, like I was being torn apart by the decision I had been forced to make.
My bare feet padded against the dark wood floor making barely any noise at all as I threaded my way through the house making for the outside. I would have loved to stop at my mother’s room, to cling to every last moment we had together, but I knew that if I stopped, if I even saw her again, I would never leave so I walked quickly past the door, flinching as I saw a brief flash through the doorway.
The air was cold and sharp. As the wind whistled through my hair and frost nibbled at my nose, I stepped outside not daring to look back for fear the urge to run away from my fate would overwhelm me. The old man stepped down from the bench at the front of the carriage, opened the door and, in a daze, I climbed in. The door shut behind me and we started the slow journey to the train station.
As the carriage set off, plodding slowly along, I peered back at the house. The old dark bricks were slightly crumbling, paint peeled from the window frames, the glass was clouded with dust and some roof tiles hung loose but it was still home. I felt numb and tears stung my eyes but I refused to let them fall.

The journey was long. The old grey horse moved slowly but I did not complain I just sat on the hard seat; emotions and thoughts tearing through my mind like a hurricane. Cold mist swirled around the carriage whispering untold secrets in the dull morning light. Soon the sun rose higher in the sky and the mist dissipated as if running; trying to escape the sun’s rays. Though the sun shone brightly the air was still cold and the corners of the windows became branched with spindly, web-like icicles. I watched my breath as it billowed out in front of me in soft white clouds. Looking out the window I saw fields leaden with fluffy white snow that sparkled like thousands of diamonds in the sunlight. The first snow of the season was always the most beautiful.
Finally we reached the station. I moved onto the platform and mixed in with the mess of people. I stood like a ghost, hardly noticed by anyone, a fleeting memory.
After a time the train pulled up, screeching as it reached the platform. The engine was moss green, smoke billowed from the chimney and a high-pitched squeal echoed down the platform emanating from the front cabin. The carriages were a dark crimson and through the windows I could see the people in first class moving around richly furnished cabins, finding their seats. Scurrying over to the train I boarded. Finding myself an empty car I slumped down on the green leather seats as the train lurched forward, grunting and groaning with the effort.
The train moved on throughout the day stopping every so often at small country stations. Many people got on and off, each face different to the last.
As we drew closer to the city things began to change. The stations became larger and grander. More trains passed them on the other rails, speeding off to wherever they were going, and the people changed as well. They now embarked in their hundreds wearing flashy suits and carrying shiny briefcases stuffed to the brim with important papers.
The city finally came into view and I stared wide-eyed at the many villa’s and other buildings that grew higher and higher into the distance. Cranes towered high above the city building newer and brighter creations.
The first stop in the city saw over half the people disembark in a flood of skin and polyester. The train sped along the tracks passing by thousands of people, cars, carriages and different buildings. The train stopped once more in the city then began to move away leaving civilisation behind.
As the hours passed by so did many towns. At each stop one or two of the remaining passengers got off but no one got on eventually leaving me alone with her thoughts and I shied away as the pain threatened to envelop me once more.
By the time the train came to my stop the sun was already bopping along the horizon making the sky blush.
The train pulled away, creaking along the rails, leaving me behind, alone on the deserted platform.
The platform was roughly constructed. Old, blackened, foot-worn timbers were used for the floor, an on old hut acted as the ticket office and the only other things on the platform were an old dark-wood bench, a single weather-worn sign that’s white painted name had chipped away years ago and an abundance of lacy cobwebs.
The boards groaned under my feet as I made her way towards the empty road that stretched away from the platform into the distance. White fields surrounded the platform and the road, stretching out like a great carpet. Black and white cows clustered under a single large tree in the distance basking in the last rays of the sun.
I sat on the edge of the platform watching the sun as it disappeared over the horizon and the sky began to dim. Eventually a cloud of dust rose from the road in the distance. The car stopped before me and a young man helped me in. My eyelids became heavy as the car chugged on, jolting every now and then on the dirt road, as I drifted into an uneasy sleep.

Chapter 2 – The manor

A slight tapping on her left shoulder disturbed my dreams. Slowly I opened her eyes and looked straight into the shadowed face of the driver who gave me a slight smile then lifted me out of the car. I could barely see through my half closed eyes and the pitch black of night but I was grateful to feel the pull of a gently leading hand in mine.
In a dream I let myself be lead out of the cold of the night and into light. The pull kept going and, barely knowing what I was doing, I kept moving with it. My legs were numb as I walked. If I had ever seen the manor before I would not have thought, as I did, that this was a wonderful dream.
Behind half closed eyes I watched as I passed through patches of light and shadow, through a labyrinth of rooms and corridors but passing no one.
After a long while of walking I felt the pulling hand stop, a click of a lock, then the hand let go of mine and I was left alone in darkness. Feeling my way along I found a bed where I curled up into a tight ball and fell back to sleep.
* * * * *
I did not know how long I’d slept - how long the nightmares plagued me that cold night - but when I woke the sky was grey but light, and snow had once again begun to fall.
Letting go of my knees I stretched out like a flower reaching towards the first rays of sun and let myself be pulled back into consciousness, then I slowly took in my surroundings.
The room I was in was huge, over 5 times the size of my old room. My old room, the thought lingered in my head. The walls were covered with intricate patterns; swirls and curves, beautiful maidens and fanciful beasts dancing along the walls in merriment. The golden detailing glittered softly against the harsh white light coming from outside. Mountains of fabric hung around the window; shining silks, luxurious furs and spider web thin organza’s in all shades of gold and royal red. The bed I now lay on was a double and had four posts draped as elaborately as the floor to ceiling arched window that took up the whole of the wall to my left. As I looked up at the ceiling I noticed thousands of shining gold stars painted on an inky black ceiling as though I were sitting outside at night.
I now saw that sitting on the end of the bed was a dress. Slipping silently across the bed I looked closer at the dress and found it was just the right size for me. The dress was beautiful.
The main body was powder blue and it had silver lace running along the bottom. Two pieces of fine silver chord ran up the bodice and folded back in on themselves to make swirls in the centre. I ran her fingers over the dress and thought to myself that I had never touched something like this.
Sliding off the bed I let my own creased dress crumple into a heap on the floor and then slipped my slender body into the new dress. It felt so light against her skin that for a moment I thought I was wearing nothing at all. I glided over to the mirror, the dress moving like liquid over my skin, and admired my reflection, half smiling, when a faint knock came from the door. A plump, red faced lady pushed her head through the doorway and let herself in.
The woman looked me up and down, her face the picture of delight. Her face was kind and her eyes friendly. Her mouse-brown hair was tied in a bun high on her head but some wisps had managed to escape and they now stuck out at funny angles. She wore a sherbet lemon dress that was slightly dusty and a white apron that was no longer white but more a dirty cream. What could be seen under her dress of her short stubby legs was covered up with white tights and she wore black shoes that were caked with dust. She smiled at me then beckoned me to follow as she disappeared out of the door again. Warily I peered out into the hallway which was almost as elaborately decorated as the room I had slept in.
The lady had already waddled almost half way down the corridor before she turned round to see if I was following.
“Come dear, we don’t want to be late” she called back to me. Her voice was soft and light and had a sing-song tune to it that made me half smile. She began again down the corridor and rounded a corner.
Glancing at the pile of my old clothes for just a second I scurried off after the woman. I caught up to her halfway up the next corridor. I looked around me in wonder. The walls were decorated even more exquisitely than the room I had just left. Mountains of fabric draped the many windows, each falling into waves as they reached the floor. The walls were gold and the sunlight bounced off them making the whole place shine.
The lady obviously knew where she was going but to me the house seemed like it never ended. No matter how hard I tried I could not remember where we had been. Right, left, right, left, left, right; it was like a maze I was destined never to escape. What seemed like thousands of doors slipped past - most of them closed. We had been walking for about ten minutes, but for me it felt like hours, when we came to a huge room that must have been the entrance hall. Shoes clicked along the white marble floor as people and servants scurried around, tending to business.
I followed the lady slowly across the hall staring up at the white banisters that stretched several stories high. A large piece of coloured glass stretched across the roof depicting a beautiful blue bird surrounded by millions of colourful gemmed flowers.
So fascinated as I was in the glass ceiling, I did not notice the lady stop in front of a large black-stained oak door, causing me to knock into her and almost fall over. The lady caught me by the arm and, after knocking 3 times, opened the door and led me in.
It was obvious that I had been led into a large study of some sort. Bookcases lined every wall, stained in a deep brown. A green leather sofa set in front of a roaring fireplace gave the study a homely feel and locked out all the cold harshness of the rest of the house.
A tall lady now strode towards me and the plump little servant bowed to her then moved towards the door. As the door shut behind the servant I studied the new woman. Her skin was nicely tanned – nothing like my own – her hair was short and mouse brown, worn in a bun, her eyes were brown but showed none of the warmth that the servants had. She wore a black suit jacket, a tight black pencil skirt and a pair of spiky high heels. She seemed to be studying me also but then waved her hand to me, then towards the couch.
“Sit” she said, her voice made it sound more of an order than a request. I sunk down gladly onto the chair in front of the gloriously warm fire. The woman sat down next to me, an icy smile passing over her lips. “My name is Mrs. Scott” she said in a very matter of fact sort of way.
“And you must be Shana?”
“Yes” I croaked. “Thanky-“
“You must know,” Mrs. Scott interrupted “that I will not tolerate nonsense in my house.” She spoke lightly but there was firmness in her voice that made me slightly scared. “There are several rules you must abide by if you want to stay in my house. Firstly no running in the house. If you break anything you will work to pay for it. DO NOT leave the grounds, don’t interrupt the servants, do not speak to the servants, if you wish to have anything from the kitchens you must tell Miss Mabel – your nanny – if you wish to leave the grounds you must tell her, but you must not leave the grounds on your own. I will want to introduce you to some of my colleagues but other than the times I invite you into my study I do not want you to interrupt any of my meeting or disturb me any time I'm in this study. Do you understand me?”
I was quite overwhelmed by all of this. I had never had to live by many rules – I had barely had one – so all these guidelines confused me slightly but nevertheless I nodded politely and was then permitted to leave. I slipped out the door and at once met up with Miss Mabel who showed me back to my room but this time using a shorter route.
We walked back into the room together and I flopped onto the bed, arms spread wide, and stared up at the ceiling. The icy light that poured through the window glinted off the shining specks. Miss Mable sat gently on the bed next to me and I sat up to look at her.
Her green eyes sparkled as she smiled at me. “My name is Alison” she said reaching out a hand and putting it in my lap.
“But you can call me Alli” she added.

Chapter 3 – Creatures

I spent the rest of that day with Alison. Alli showed me everything; the kitchens, the library, the grounds and even the servants quarters. She showed me everywhere and told me everything to know about Creature Manor. She told me where the borders of the manor were and told me about the town down the creek. By the end of the day I had forgotten all about why I was there and fell asleep thinking about the wonders of the manor.
The next day I woke early and sat by the window watching the sun rising and the rays glint off the newly fallen snow like diamonds. Alli finally came through the door carrying a tray laden with food and I wolfed down three pieces of toast and a glass of orange juice without a second thought.
The two of us spent the better part of an hour talking. Alli explained how she came to live at the manor after her mother, a friend of Mrs. Scott’s, had died. “She was devastated when my mother died” she explained, “they’d been friends since childhood, and after Alice – Mrs. Scott to you - moved out here, she became very distant. My mother became her only friend. At the funeral” – at this point she took shuddering breath and her eyes looked very sad – “Alice took me home with her. I stayed here ‘till I was old enough to get a job at which point Alice offered me a permanent placement here.” When she spoke of her mother she spoke like she had been an angel sent from the heavens to earth. When she spoke of her father, the few sentences she said about him were brief and bitter.
“What of your father?” she asked suddenly. “He died” I replied bluntly. I really didn’t want to talk about him. “It was in one of the first raids, when we first had to move. There were explosions down the street. He went out to see what had happened – he didn’t come back. We waited and waited - me and mother” - I flinched at the mention of my mother - “but he never came back. The noises came and went but he still didn’t come. We were evacuated and moved into a new house. Mother told me he would find us, but he never did. I finally gave up hope after 5 years of waiting”. The caring soft tone came back into Alison’s voice. “You loved him very much didn’t you?” she asked me placing her hand onto my lap, “no” I replied sharply “I never got the chance to. I was 2 when he died”.

That's really interesting! Keep on going

well im going as fast as i can....
will post when i have the next bit

thankyou

yes thanks to you !! my silver angel lol

im doing this the wrong way...not in order...doing the bits i see in my head at the time so it mite be a while...soz

i agree with you there silva....*growls at silver*

sorry..im trying to go as fast as i can but my mind does not function properly on the holidays plus i have band rehersals.

HAHAHAHA IM SCARY *cowers*

ok i'v just changed alisons name to rebecca coz i wanted to have some of my sister in there... also i think the chapters are a little out of wack to what i already put up but heres all the rest iv written so far...i havent fully edited it yet so tell me if you find some mistakes k?

I spent some of my time with Rebecca but most of it I spent alone. The longer I spent in the manor the more I let my thoughts drift. On my third day I had received word that my mother would be receiving full time care from now on.
That did it.
I spent the whole rest of that day curled up into a ball on my bed. It felt like a large piece of me had been ripped out – my heart, I was sure – and a gaping hole had been left in its place. I would hold my breath for minutes at a time just to numb the pain but then I would take in air again and the outer, exposed edges of the wound would be sliced savagely. Soon enough my breath came as just staggered gasps. I held my knees tightly to my chest so my other organs would not try to escape cavernous hole there.
My face was burning but also covered with ice-cold tears that just never seemed to stop falling. I couldn’t understand my irrational reaction at first then, as it sunk in, I understood it was because this meant she was not getting better. This realisation lashed at the hole in my chest and a new wave of tears joined the moisture already resting on my face.
Rebecca didn’t try to comfort me, or maybe she did and I just didn’t notice. It wouldn’t have made a difference anyway. I was inconsolable for those few hours that I let myself be consumed by my own personal grief.
The depression was not my only feeling though as I lay there in my stupor. I felt guilty for leaving her there to deal with this alone; I felt frustrated because I knew that even if I had stayed, even if I had been with her for every breath she took, I knew I couldn’t do a single thing to help her and worst of all – I felt slightly glad, relieved even, that not only was I free of the burden I had put upon myself to care for her, but I didn’t have to see her in pain. Selfish as this was it helped lift some of the weight from my shoulders as I knew this was the main reason she had sent me away.
That had been the last day I had let my emotions get the best of me.

* * * * *

Now I had other things to think about. Even before my first week at the manor was complete Mrs. Scott had enlisted me at the small community school just ten minutes walk down the creek.
I had attended a school for only one year back when I lived with mama. For my first 5 years of education my mother had taught me herself from home and I enjoyed it very much. When my mother had told me I would be attending school the next summer I was ecstatic like any other child anticipating their first day of school. This would be a new experience for me and I would make the best of it, but my enthusiasm faded like any other child’s, after the routine set in and the long arduous hours of study and work became unbearably tedious.
For the first day I was the main topic of conversation but the interest soon faded and I was left alone – an outcast. I had no friends and each day at lunch I would sit at a table in the farthest corner of the lunch hall alone. I didn’t particularly mind being alone – I had been most of my life anyway.
I had no doubt this new school would be the same thing . . . maybe worse.
I was right.
My first day at my new school of 392 students (393 now I attended) was almost identical to my first day at my old school of just over 3 thousand students. People stared, whispered and pointed. I was asked a million and one questions and by the end of the day everybody knew my name.
The school was very, very small.
Four little red bricked buildings and a medium sized silver walled shed were all there was to it. One the main office, one for the science and food classrooms, the shed for the lunch hall and the other two buildings for the main classrooms.
The school was circled on all sides by forest and a large expanse of grass, which was currently covered with half-melted snow, sat inside the ring of buildings.
The uniform was very bare. A white blouse and grey skirt which reached my ankles topped with a black tie with a red stripe down the middle and the schools logo, and a grey jacket.
Very dull.

I sat on my own in my first two lessons.
At lunch I was prepared to sit on my own again and I made my way over to an empty table. I sat, tray in hands, on the cold wooden bench and glanced around the room.
“Hello” a quiet, mousy voice said next to me.
“Hello” I replied, shocked to find a young girl sitting on the bench beside me.
She was obviously taller than me but not by much. Her hair was long and golden, her eyes moss green and her skin nicely tanned – completely opposite to me. She smiled warmly though timidly, like she was afraid I would hit her or something. She extended her hand towards me and I shook it warily.
“I’m Katie” she informed me. “You’re Shana, right?”
“Ah-huh” I replied dumbly.
“Do you mind if I sit here?” she asked pointing to the bench. I shook my head dumbstruck.
I had never had someone come up to me so openly and engage me in conversation at school before – or even out in public where the rule ‘children should be seen and not heard’ was so blatantly adhered to.
It seemed so stupid to be bemused by such a simple thing but in the society I grew up in it was unnatural for someone like me – an outcast – to be treated like an individual. I found myself hanging on her every word, desperate to be accepted in this small, insignificant way.
Katie was very nice.
It was strange how at ease I felt talking to her when I was prompted to. I told Katie a little about myself, only pressing lightly on the subject of my mother which she seemed to understand and skip over. She seemed genuinely interested in me and listened eagerly when I spoke as I did in return.
She spoke of her mother and father along with her two younger brothers that she cared for often. They lived the other side of the creek to me and the manor. It sounded like a nice life. I sat with her in my last class then I returned home.
Homework was first on the agenda and by the time I was finished – for I seemed to have accumulated a rather large pile of homework for my first day – it was growing dark.
I bathed and dressed for bed not bothering to eat. I curled up under my gloriously warm quilt and fell asleep.







Chapter 3- Nothing

The darkness was everywhere, encroaching in on me.

You know those dreams where you try to run but you find yourself moving in slow motion and when you look back you hadn’t even moved an inch? Well I was trapped in one of them.
Trapped.
I don’t know why I was so scared but as the darkness moved closer and closer I could feel the hysteria building. I was crouched slightly, my body poised to run again but as it got closer to me I couldn’t move my feet, couldn’t make myself respond. It was pure darkness, actually it was less than that, pure . . . nothing – that was the right word. It was nothing and yet, everything.
Even if I had the ability to run I had nowhere to run to now. I was surrounded by the nothing and I was not safe where I was, standing alone in my small patch of light. The nothing had swallowed my only escape. A strange hiss escaped my lips and the nothingness seemed to falter for a moment, but only a moment.
Almost like I had provoked it the nothing launched itself at me and consumed me. I lost all sense of where I was, what I was doing, what I was, who I was.
I lost me.

A strangled scream somewhere close woke me and it took me a moment to realise the agonised noise was coming from me. I forced my jaw closed cutting off the noise that frightened me even though it had come from my own mouth. I was shivering but not from the cold. I was clammy and covered in icy sweat that had begun to soak through my sheets. My breath was coming in laboured gasps and my heart beat so hard against my chest that I thought it might burst from my body at any moment.
I forced myself to be calm.
I tried to focus on my breathing, taking deep breaths. In and out, in and out, in through my nose, out through my mouth. I shut my eyes and listened as my heartbeat slowed to a more natural rhythm and then I tried to control the shakes that still raked through my body. Slowly I returned to myself.
When I was under control I slipped from my bed and into the small bathroom that joined onto my bedroom. The tiles were icy on my feet but I welcomed it. I splashed my face and neck with some piercingly cold water then stared at my reflection in the mirror.
My eyes, though heavy with sleep, were wide with shock and fear. My hair draped over some of my face, twisting and turning. I attempted to rake my fingers through the birds nest atop my head but gave it up after a few seconds as a lost cause. My face was pail and waxy in the moonlight.
I wiped my face on a towel then returned to the bedroom. The moonlight had bleached the furniture bone white and it glinted off the stars on the roof making them glitter faintly. I walked to the frost laced window, bare feet padding softly on the carpet, and stared at the sky.
There were no stars outside tonight though the moon shone a bright white beacon. Grey clouds hovered around it blurring the outline but never totally obscuring it. It was almost like they were afraid of it – of creating the darkness without it.
I flinched slightly as I thought of my dream and the darkness; the nothingness. I worked my way back over to the bed, never taking my eyes from the moon, almost afraid it might run away if I looked away from it for just a second. I snuggled back under the covers but focused hard on not going back to sleep. I did not want to lose myself in the nothingness again.
I somehow managed it.
The moon sank lower and lower until eventually it was nothing more than a distant white glow on the horizon. The sky turned from inky black to deep blue, deep blue to grey, grey pink then into a rainbow of colours that blossomed across the sky and welcomed the world into the day.

Rebecca brought me my breakfast not long after sunrise and, though I ate little, I felt sick.
Memories of me dream clung to me making me edgy but that was not the main reason for my discomfort. The thought of returning to that dismal place lingered over me as I changed distractedly. My mind raked over everything that had happened the previous day and I suddenly remembered Katie but that did not raise my hope too high.
I was a novelty to them and once that novelty wore off I was likely to be left alone again. One day should have been plenty of time.
Apparently not.
I was met at the bridge crossing the small stream at the back of the manor by a smiling Katie. She seemed to have blossomed over night. Her mousy, timid face was now open and welcoming. I felt a smile spread unconsciously across my face as I saw her. It felt so natural.
We sat together in our classes and at lunch, and then walked back to the bridge together at the end of the day. I studied when I returned to my room and I could start to feel a routine forming after only two days.
My food was brought to me then I dressed for bed.
I lay alone there on my bed in the flickering light of the one lonely candle. I was afraid – I could feel it – but what had brought on this irrational and inescapable fear? It couldn’t possibly have been the dream could it? That one small insignificant dream was keeping me from sleeping peacefully at night?
No. I would not let this hinder me.
Decidedly I snapped my eyes shut and focused on clearing my mind. I could feel the heavy pull of drowsiness almost as if it were a dark black blanket being draped across my body but somehow, subconsciously, I was resisting so that I floated in the void between consciousness and unconsciousness.
I hovered there for a long time, not fully under but not really able to drag myself back totally, then I suddenly felt myself slip and plunge thankfully into the deep hollow that was my subconscious.

I screamed myself awake after what felt like only seconds, but also hours. The blackness that had surrounded me in my dream had followed me out of my head and had swallowed the room. No moon shone through the window – it was totally engulfed by the clouds.
I sat there covered in sweat and my chest convulsed again and again. I slowly calmed myself then, after washing my face and neck, I curled up in a small chair by the window and glared at the sky. The stars twinkled as they laughed at me in the heavens.
The rest of the week followed this pattern and by Friday me and Katie had become good friends. The blackness stalked me in my dreams and kept me awake at night.
Though I was now beginning to enjoy my time at school I welcomed the weekend with open arms, even if it was only because of the reprieve it gave me from the relentless stream of homework I had gained over the week. It gave me time to think.
This is not always a good thing.
The dark nightmares did not take a break with school and I woke up screaming into a pillow on Saturday morning. Dull light trickled through the glass as the sun fought for domination over the masses of grey clouds. A wall of water fell outside and the room was freezing so I stayed wrapped in my quilt while the rain bombarded the outside world.
As always Rebecca had gone to market this morning so I stayed in my little warm world for a long while. When I eventually made a move and dressed I had nothing to do. All my homework had been completed the previous night. I made my way through the manor and into the library.
The walls were lined high with books. Old books, new books, some bound in leather, others with hard wooden outsides. Many were covered with mountains of dust. I scoured the shelfs for hours, reading titles and flicking through pages. Eventually I settled on an ivory-leather bound book.
From what I could tell it documented the history of the manor. Detailed pictures of the house being built and beautiful paintings of the surrounding forest in bloom filled the book. I studied each page thoroughly taking special interest in some of the more magical things that had been said to have happened here. One of these ‘sightings’ was by the owner before Miss Scott, who had come home one day from walking in the forest screaming about seeing fairies and pixies on the trail.
Torrential rain pounded the outside walls and wind whipped savagely at the building when I finally went to bed. As I lay under the covers I thought about the fairy in the book before exhaustion from lack of sleep pulled into the nothingness that dominated my dreams.

* * * * *

November passed and school finished for the year.

December came and went.
Then January.
And then February.
More months passed and before I knew it I had been at the manor for six months.

Time passes. For some it goes quickly, for others it moves almost unbearably slow. Time moves too slow for me.
Six months and no news of my mother. At her birthday I tried to contact her but she was sleeping and when I asked them if she was getting any better they hung up on me. Since then I have lived in a dream. The nothingness follows me and stalks me at every turn.
I envy those for which time passes by like a leaf caught in a hurricane wind. This pain is too much to deal with for a slow eternity.








Chapter 4- Letters

School, study, eat, sleep. This was the routine of my life.

The thin layer of ice that had resisted its demise for so long was now gone and spring had finally banished any last remnant of winter, besides the rain. School was back but my mind was still lost in its waking coma.
After mama’s birthday I had lost myself. She was never recovering, this was the end, it was only a matter of time. Katie had given up trying to console me and I was now isolated. I walked through the day like a zombie only giving answers to direct questions. No one even looked at me anymore – I was once again a ghost but this time, I was glad.
Rebecca didn’t try to talk to me much either now. She knew I wouldn’t make any effort to talk to her. School, study, eat and sleep – this was my life. The nothingness didn’t even try to scare me in my sleep anymore. My sleep was blank, just like me.
The rain that had persisted through the winter, only stopping to give the snow a fair go, did not relent as the seasons changed. Long dreary day lapsed into long dreary day. Every now and then the sun would win a battle against one cloud and would stretch a glittering beam of light towards the earth only to have it snatched up by another cloud soon after.
Though the weather had only warmed slightly the earth began to bloom. Flowers I never realised were there began to blossom everywhere. Vibrant colours poked shyly through their buds as plants decided whether to brave the rain or stay hidden until the end of the season. Baby birds twittered angrily at Mother Nature as I walked under the trees to school and young animals skittered away from the fringes of the forest ringing the school as the other kids enjoyed their lunch.

As another three weeks lapsed the spring weather began to make itself known. The first real sunny day of the year was on a weekend. I lay in bed and the sun stretched itself across my face, warming it like it had not been for months. I watched it sparkle on the dust motes as dawn brightened into day. Birds chirped gladly outside my window and I smiled – something I had not done sincerely in many months.
Instead of going to the library as I would normally do on a weekend I simply sat outside in the sun. The heat felt nice on my skin as I nibbled on a small golden sponge cake in a violet wrapper that I had taken from the breakfast tray Rebecca had left for me this morning, before she went to the market. I stored two more in the pocket of my white dress for later.
I smiled again and basked in the glowing yellow light. My troubles seemed far away now and I wondered silently to myself what I was so upset about. I shut my eyes and let the heat wash over me.
I don’t know how long I sat there for but when I opened my eyes again the sun had defiantly moved slightly in the sky. I scanned the forest edge that was set at the end of the garden. The trees twitched slightly in the soft breeze but beyond the tree line the forest was completely hidden behind fronds and branches. Absentmindedly I wandered down a gravel path towards the forest, my feet moving me gently forward.
The sun filtered through the canopy as I pushed my way through the fringes of the forest. Moss covered the floor and grew up the base of each tree. Cool green light filled the space. It was like another world. I walked across the springy green floor, eyes wide in wonder. A fern brushed my cheek and I smiled at the soft touch of the velvety frond.
I walked a trail for a long time, not knowing how long exactly. I was lost in this magical world where time didn’t seem to exist at all. Little pools of white light broke the canopy here and there between the green. After what I think was two hours I stopped and ate one of the small golden cakes then continued along the path I was taking.
I could tell I was getting further in as the forest became denser. The small pools of light became less and further apart until they could not pass through the trees any longer. Vines and fallen branches now littered the path which made me stumble often and twice I toppled head over heels scraping my hands and knees.
I became hungry again after a time and began to wonder whether I should turn back but curiosity made me push on. I was not moving of my own free will now. It was almost like someone – or something – was calling to me. My body moved forward without me even thinking about where I was going. The forest was drawing me in but the question was, would I be able to escape when I found what was calling me?
Following the call I travelled off the path, not knowing what I was doing at the time. Shrubs and branches tugged at me as I walked forward ripping multiple holes in my dress and slicing my exposed arms.
A certain angry branch snapped back at me as I attempted to push past it through a wall of vines that wound from one tree to the next and created a deep gash on my face. I curled in on myself, covering my bleeding cheek with my hands. A sharp pain shot across my face where the cut was. It was not bleeding heavily but it was enough that I soon felt a single drip dribble down my face, leaving a trail of warmth in its wake. I backed through the wall feeling it snap and brake under my weight and suddenly I felt the warmth of the sun on my back again.
No other drips escaped down my face so I felt it safe to remove my hands and as I did I stared up into blinding lights.
I had not realised how dark or cold the forest had become until now, confronted with such pure clean sunlight. I tried to look around me but the light still clouded my vision. Once my eyes adjusted I tried again. I was in a circle of crumbling walls – what must have been left of an ancient courtyard. Ivy had attached itself to the walls demolishing them over time and allowing the forest to retake the circle. Large, flat stones coved the ground though tiny purple flowers tried to push between them and grass sprouted in any space possible. The beauty of the place amazed me.
A platform was raised to hip height inside the walls. I moved towards it still admiring the courtyard. It must have been thousands of years old! The platform was carved from the same stone as the floor and lying on top of it, carved into the stone, forever guarding the courtyard, was a beautiful young lady.
At least I say she was beautiful. Her long dress was magnificent. Swirling patterns adorned it and the folds of the carved material were so amazingly done you could have sworn it was just a normal stone coloured dress draped over the platform. The body was so smooth it could have been made from marble and even the hair was so realistic you wouldn’t be laughed at if you thought it would start blowing in the nonexistent wind. But the face – the face was just a shape. The nose poked out above the cheeks with their high cheek bones and you could see the shallow hollows just below where the eyebrows should have sat, but that was it. There were no eyes staring away into the treetops, no lashes on the lids. There were no eyebrows, just a ridge where they would have sat and – strangest of all – there were no lips. An incomplete masterpiece.
It seemed a shame that it was not finished, that it was destined to lay there incomplete for eternity (as I doubted it would ever fade away like the walls around it had, since it still looked like it had been carved yesterday) though I seemed to think there was a reason. Maybe she, the girl on the platform, had done something unthinkable and her face was never to be seen again, or maybe when she had lived the girl had been so beautiful her face was unable to be remade – however hard the carver may try.
I circled the platform and now looked, not at the bare face of the girl, but at the platform she lay atop. Pictures had been carved into the stone and, just as the girl, they looked as new as the day they had been made. Scenes of the forest, of a castle, a banquet hall filled with happy people smiling and laughing, parties and last of all a rose. The people were beautiful, their faces smooth and happy – always happy. Also strange writing looped around the platform, elegant curling script in a language I had never seen before.

* * * * *

I sat there for a long while, staring at the platform and basking in the golden sunlight. Unlikely as it was the pictures seemed to stir beneath my gaze and though I tried to make myself believe it wasn’t true – it couldn’t be – I just couldn’t seem to tear my eyes from the carved pictures and looping graceful writing.
Before I knew it the sun had begun to slip below the line of the trees casting long unusually cold shadows over the courtyard. The snap of a breaking tree branch to my right made me jump after the quiet and stillness that had consumed the courtyard. I whipped my head around to look for the disturbance but I saw nothing. Suddenly I felt something soft tickling my hand.
Whatever it was it felt smooth as silk and delightfully warm against my hand. I didn’t want to turn my head again - to realise nothing was there - but I forced my head to obey me and slowly, my neck cracking, I looked down at my hand.
I could have sworn it was a dragonfly at first. Its organza wings spread long and wide across my hands and the slender body lay flat on my skin. I lifted it towards my face to see it closer. Its body was green; not moss green like everything else in the forest, not pea green, or lime green or even shining bright green but a strange unnatural but strangely natural green – unlike anything I had ever seen before. And the body was not that of a dragonfly.
I realised what it was.
It was not like the fairies you read about in story books. It did not wear a beautiful flowing dress made of flower petals or spiders silk. It did not have long golden blonde hair and the sweet face of a baby. Its body was the natural-unnatural green and it was completely naked though its body was not like ours. The contours of its body were like a human lady’s would be if we were to wear a skin-tight body suit, almost like its clothes were melded into its body. Its hair was snow white and shoulder length with a small green circlet placed atop it. Its fingers and toes were tiny and webbed and it fit easily into my palm with its arms curled around its legs into a tight ball.
My hand reached eye level and its head snapped up to stare at me through amazing bright red eyes. It sat there for a minute or so simply staring at me then with a quick flurry of its wings it pushed out of my hand then settled back there, now standing.
“H-hello” I stuttered.
It cocked its head sideways still staring at me then opened its mouth wide only to close it again without making a sound. Turning away from me it fluttered, its wings blowing a slight breeze over my face, to the platform, landing next to the nameless, faceless form. I followed never taking my eyes from it. It bent its knee then bowed low to the stone figure.
The sun only touched this part of the courtyard now and I knelt next to where the sun twinkled on its wings. I leant my head in my hands next to the fairy-creature and stared at it in wonder.
“Did you know her?” I asked it.
It snapped its head round to me again and once more cocked its head at me. “Did you know her?” I asked again first pointing to it then to the carved figure on the platform. Nodding, it opened its mouth again like it wanted to talk but could not find its’ voice. I took that as a yes. My stomach grumbled and I realised the shadows had now slithered their way over the whole clearing.
Taking out the second golden cake from this morning’s breakfast I turned at sat with my back leaning against the cool stone platform. I felt the fairy perch itself on my shoulder, sitting there swinging its webbed feet to and fro. Its stared longingly at the half a cake I held in my hand. I broke off a small piece and handed it to the fairy that began to devour it gratefully. I consumed the rest of the small cake in two bites then looked around me. I had no idea where I was.
I looked at the fairy that was just finishing its piece of cake. “How am I to get out of here?” I asked it rhetorically. Suddenly it bounced upwards, the speed of its wings blowing my hair back. It squeaked enthusiastically at me floating up and down on the spot.
“Do you know how to get out?” I asked it.
It squeaked even louder now and I took that as another yes.
“Well lead the way” I told it standing up and waving my hand forward.

It fluttered in front of me leading me through the forest once again. Every now and then a stray twig would bite at me or I would stumble over a fallen log but overall the journey was a lot easier and comfortable than before.
The forest was very dark now and becoming quite chilly. I was looking forward to taking a nice hot bath. I heard twigs snapping and I knew in unseen corners animals were waking from their slumber to forage. It felt like no time at all had passed when I broke through the edge of the forest and onto the gravel path that led from it back to the manor. I looked around me for the fairy and found it standing on a boulder that sat next to the path as the last rays of sunlight bounced off its magnificent wings. It bowed to me and I to it then it took flight, speeding back off into the forest. I shivered in the shadow of the forest so I walked merrily back towards the manor.
As usual no one took any notice of me as I entered the entrance and within minutes I had reached my bedroom. I did not realise how very hungry I was until Alli arrived with my tray of dinner.
“Oh my!” she exclaimed when she saw the state of my dress but I was too preoccupied with eating to explain my adventure. I dressed for bed distracted as I thought about my little friend then fell asleep almost the instant my head hit the pillow.
I dreamt of the forest. I wandered through it calling out, for what I didn’t know as no sound escaped my lips.
The next day was sunny again and throughout the morning I wandered around the grounds absentmindedly. Every now and then I would steal a glance at the forest that loomed in the north. With a fresh mind my adventure yesterday seemed absurd. How could I possibly have met a fairy while in the forest? I glanced at it again as it stood dark and ominous in the distance.
Should I truly believe what I think I saw? Was it truth or just hallucinations brought on by sleep deprivation? As I lay on the cool grass I decided the only way I would find out would be to go back in there.
But not today I thought, not just yet. I closed my eyes and let the warmth of the sun wash over me. But thoughts of the fairy followed me into unconsciousness and guided me through forest-filled dreams. By the time I woke the shadows had crept across my body and I had to return inside.
I promised myself tomorrow I would.
* * * * *
Tomorrow it rained. And the next day, and the next day, and then the next until the whole week was consumed by wetness. I spent endless hours by the window in my room simply staring through the thick sheet of rain at the forest.
I knew I was being stupid but I couldn’t help wondering if the fairy-creature was doing the same – staring out from between the fronds of the ferns and watching me. I searched endlessly in the distance for any hint, any sparkle of wings or flash of that unnatural-natural green, until my eyes began to ache with the effort.
The weekend came and went and the rain pounded the manor without relent. I meandered around looking for something to occupy my time besides pining for the rain to end. I helped for a few hours, on Sunday, in the kitchens but eventually I became far too distracted and left to continue contemplating my possibly imaginary fairy friend. The longer I stayed inside the more totally impossible everything that had happened to me seemed. My mind didn’t seem to want to admit I’d met a fairytale creature in the forest.
The carved girl now haunted me in my dreams. Well it was more like one dream. Every night I would close my eyes and see the forest again, the endless spiral of green. I would wander, not because I needed to but because it just seemed the right thing to do and then her white stone face would be there, imperfect but so magnificent. And just before I woke, every morning, I would see a golden rose, surrounded by blackness.
Monday morning I was greeted by sunlight and as I blinked into the day I could feel a wide smile spread across my face. I dressed straight away and, without waiting for Alli to arrive with my breakfast, I set off for the forest.
Outside the air had a slight chill to it but the air was still and the sun was lovely and warm as I passed in and out of shadows. The air smelt clean after the rainfall and little droplets of cold morning dew tickled me as I passed too close to the grass. I hadn’t realised how much I had craved the outdoors when I was confined to the manor. It felt natural for me being out here in the crisp morning air. All thoughts were thrown from my mind and I barely even noticed my passage into the forest.
I weaved my way, agilely now, through the twisting pathways between the trees – I was not following any path in particular. I could feel the call again but it was stronger this time, more urgent, like it needed me to return.
It did not take me nearly as long to reach the clearing and the courtyard as it did that first time. The call was guiding me more clearly now. I could feel myself relax as I laid eyes on the faceless girl. This was why I had come, to know that even though I had doubted myself at one point, what I had seen – what I was seeing now – was real.
As I did the first time I sat down on the cold, now wet, stone floor and simply stared at the carved face. The sun moved into view above the trees soon after I arrived and the rain that had pooled in the courtyard glistened. I gladly felt the pressure of small webbed feet on my shoulder and I smiled as the wind from the fairy’s wings swept my limp hair into my face. I turned to glance at it for a moment and then, with a smug smile on my face, returned my gaze to the carving.
I felt comfortable here with my mythical friend on my shoulder and the forest surrounding blocking everything else out but, as I spied the sun straight above me, I realised I would have to go back soon.
“Can you take me back again?” I asked the fairy.
It gave a tiny, almost inaudible squeak then began to flutter back into the forest. It seemed dejected that I was leaving so soon but it led me back to the pathway again without complaint.
“I’ll come back tomorrow” I promised it when we reached the outer wall of trees.
Its face lit up and it let out a giant high-pitched squeal that made me laugh.