(no subject)
Another one for Smokler... November 30. A fairy tale this time.... and again, sorry for the fact that it might not be fully edited... I know I did corrections after this version, i just dont remember what they were.
Oh and PS: they wont be coming as frequently after this... I just thought of this last night, so i'm posting all of my previous ones now... Then i'll post them as i write them.
Forbidden Life
The sun came up over the trees and shone on a small deteriorating wooden cabin in the middle of a dry, dead, yellowing field. Sunlight reflected off of the cracked glass windows causing the rotten wood under the chipped paint to appear a dawn grey instead of its normal midday black. The splintering door creaked open as a small boy of about twelve stepped out onto the stone walkway. Paint chips dropped to the ground as the door fell shut behind the boy. He crept away from the house, turning every few steps to see if he had woken his mother.
He paused when he reached the edge of the woods. Every boyish urge inside called for him to enter the woods, but the words his mother had repeated since his birth echoed: “if you go in those woods, you’ll never set foot back in this house!” She had said that to him every day since he was little. He thought though, since it was his twelfth birthday, he should be allowed to see what was beyond the depths of darkness. After this small burst of reassurance, he puffed up his chest, and entered the dark woods.
The bitter smell of dank rotten wood stung his nose. Every step he took echoed through the trees around him. He suddenly wanted to turn and run back to his house, but something grounded his feet where they were. He noticed that he was hearing a faint harp and a beautiful woman’s voice singing. He turned and walked towards this mysterious and beautiful sound. Every step closer to the music brought him greater happiness and with every breath he sighed away his worries. Thoughts of his mother drifted away. Thoughts of her failed attempts at growing crops in the barren fields floated far above the trees. He grew eager when he realized that the music sounded like it was just around the other tree. But he paused, perplexed. It seemed as if the sound of a stream was mixed in with the music. He wondered why he was hearing water, when there clearly wasn’t one, otherwise he and his mother wouldn’t be poor trying to make a living in a dead field.
He couldn’t wait any longer. The music was pulling him. He walked over a small hill and found himself facing a small brook. It wound its way past him through the trees. He watched it disappear into the woods to his right. A splash came from over his shoulder. He looked, but didn’t see its source. He walked towards the brook to find the woman who had been singing. Across the water from the boy, a large flat rock protruded off of the shore into the brook. On it stood a beautiful instrument. It was a large wooden harp, intricately carved all along the edge were mer-people, swimming from one side to another. The boy had heard stories of mer-people: their beautiful appearance to humans, but their evil nature that made hunting their favorite thing to do.
The boy decided he wanted to see the harp closer, but first he had to let his mother know about this miracle. If he could find a way to bring the water back to his mother, they could finally grow a healthy crop to sell in the village. He ignored the silence in the woods and ran straight back the way he had come. He burst from the woods and with a triumphant yell, sprang on his mother in the kitchen.
“Mother, I have wonderful news!”
“Where were you?” the mother asked, concerned.
“It doesn’t matter, I have something to tell you that will make all of your worries in the world disappear!” He began to explain about his adventure into the woods, and the brook he had found. At the mention of the music, the mother’s face tightened.
“Never go back there again,” his mother said.
“But why mother? You would never have to worry about your dead crops again.”
“Promise me never!”
“But-”
“Say it!”
“I promise,” the boy sighed. He stood from where he had sat down to talk with his mother. When he left the room, his mother rose and went to the fireplace. On the mantel was a picture of a tall dark man with a clear resemblance to the boy. She leaned over and gave the man a small kiss.
“I hope he keeps to his promise. He cannot end up like you. I refuse to lose another person I love to those woods.” She kissed the picture again and left the room.
The boy lay on his bed, wondering what he could to so that his mother wouldn’t be mad at him. He thought hard about going back into the woods. Would a fresh crop and good income help his mother’s temper lessen? He decided it would. He crept out of his room and checked to see if his mother was near the door. He didn’t see her in the kitchen, which meant he could leave without her noticing. As he passed through the door, he grabbed a bucket that sat at the threshold, longing to be used.
The boy ran as fast as he could, trying to get away from the house, in case the sound of the door slamming might have woken his mother. This time, when he reached the border of the woods, he did not hesitate. As soon as he entered the darkness, he again heard that beautiful sound. He ducked under branches and dodged roots that threatened to slow his plans. Within minutes he reached the edge of the stream. His heart pounded from exhaustion as he set down the bucket. He soon noticed the harp that sat on the flat, smooth rock. This time, he couldn’t help but investigate it further. He found the narrowest part of the brook, and swam across. Dripping, he climbed out and onto the stone. His eyes held steady on the dark wood. The harp drew him closer, and he slowly stepped towards it. Finally, he had reached his prize. He stretched his hand towards it. When his fingers grazed a merwomans fin, he heard a splash. His eyes turned to the calm waters of the brook, but nothing was there. Suddenly, something burst from under the rock. An almost translucent skinned woman was flying at him. Her eyes shone a bright yellow and slime dripped from every part of her. Her knotted blue hair flew out behind her, and before the boy coudl tell what was happening, her small spiked teeth had clamped down on his throat. Silence fell over the woods once more as the mer-woman dragged the limp body into the water, so that he was never heard from again.
Oh and PS: they wont be coming as frequently after this... I just thought of this last night, so i'm posting all of my previous ones now... Then i'll post them as i write them.
Forbidden Life
The sun came up over the trees and shone on a small deteriorating wooden cabin in the middle of a dry, dead, yellowing field. Sunlight reflected off of the cracked glass windows causing the rotten wood under the chipped paint to appear a dawn grey instead of its normal midday black. The splintering door creaked open as a small boy of about twelve stepped out onto the stone walkway. Paint chips dropped to the ground as the door fell shut behind the boy. He crept away from the house, turning every few steps to see if he had woken his mother.
He paused when he reached the edge of the woods. Every boyish urge inside called for him to enter the woods, but the words his mother had repeated since his birth echoed: “if you go in those woods, you’ll never set foot back in this house!” She had said that to him every day since he was little. He thought though, since it was his twelfth birthday, he should be allowed to see what was beyond the depths of darkness. After this small burst of reassurance, he puffed up his chest, and entered the dark woods.
The bitter smell of dank rotten wood stung his nose. Every step he took echoed through the trees around him. He suddenly wanted to turn and run back to his house, but something grounded his feet where they were. He noticed that he was hearing a faint harp and a beautiful woman’s voice singing. He turned and walked towards this mysterious and beautiful sound. Every step closer to the music brought him greater happiness and with every breath he sighed away his worries. Thoughts of his mother drifted away. Thoughts of her failed attempts at growing crops in the barren fields floated far above the trees. He grew eager when he realized that the music sounded like it was just around the other tree. But he paused, perplexed. It seemed as if the sound of a stream was mixed in with the music. He wondered why he was hearing water, when there clearly wasn’t one, otherwise he and his mother wouldn’t be poor trying to make a living in a dead field.
He couldn’t wait any longer. The music was pulling him. He walked over a small hill and found himself facing a small brook. It wound its way past him through the trees. He watched it disappear into the woods to his right. A splash came from over his shoulder. He looked, but didn’t see its source. He walked towards the brook to find the woman who had been singing. Across the water from the boy, a large flat rock protruded off of the shore into the brook. On it stood a beautiful instrument. It was a large wooden harp, intricately carved all along the edge were mer-people, swimming from one side to another. The boy had heard stories of mer-people: their beautiful appearance to humans, but their evil nature that made hunting their favorite thing to do.
The boy decided he wanted to see the harp closer, but first he had to let his mother know about this miracle. If he could find a way to bring the water back to his mother, they could finally grow a healthy crop to sell in the village. He ignored the silence in the woods and ran straight back the way he had come. He burst from the woods and with a triumphant yell, sprang on his mother in the kitchen.
“Mother, I have wonderful news!”
“Where were you?” the mother asked, concerned.
“It doesn’t matter, I have something to tell you that will make all of your worries in the world disappear!” He began to explain about his adventure into the woods, and the brook he had found. At the mention of the music, the mother’s face tightened.
“Never go back there again,” his mother said.
“But why mother? You would never have to worry about your dead crops again.”
“Promise me never!”
“But-”
“Say it!”
“I promise,” the boy sighed. He stood from where he had sat down to talk with his mother. When he left the room, his mother rose and went to the fireplace. On the mantel was a picture of a tall dark man with a clear resemblance to the boy. She leaned over and gave the man a small kiss.
“I hope he keeps to his promise. He cannot end up like you. I refuse to lose another person I love to those woods.” She kissed the picture again and left the room.
The boy lay on his bed, wondering what he could to so that his mother wouldn’t be mad at him. He thought hard about going back into the woods. Would a fresh crop and good income help his mother’s temper lessen? He decided it would. He crept out of his room and checked to see if his mother was near the door. He didn’t see her in the kitchen, which meant he could leave without her noticing. As he passed through the door, he grabbed a bucket that sat at the threshold, longing to be used.
The boy ran as fast as he could, trying to get away from the house, in case the sound of the door slamming might have woken his mother. This time, when he reached the border of the woods, he did not hesitate. As soon as he entered the darkness, he again heard that beautiful sound. He ducked under branches and dodged roots that threatened to slow his plans. Within minutes he reached the edge of the stream. His heart pounded from exhaustion as he set down the bucket. He soon noticed the harp that sat on the flat, smooth rock. This time, he couldn’t help but investigate it further. He found the narrowest part of the brook, and swam across. Dripping, he climbed out and onto the stone. His eyes held steady on the dark wood. The harp drew him closer, and he slowly stepped towards it. Finally, he had reached his prize. He stretched his hand towards it. When his fingers grazed a merwomans fin, he heard a splash. His eyes turned to the calm waters of the brook, but nothing was there. Suddenly, something burst from under the rock. An almost translucent skinned woman was flying at him. Her eyes shone a bright yellow and slime dripped from every part of her. Her knotted blue hair flew out behind her, and before the boy coudl tell what was happening, her small spiked teeth had clamped down on his throat. Silence fell over the woods once more as the mer-woman dragged the limp body into the water, so that he was never heard from again.