Enjoy!
Hollie xx
TRIGGER WARNING: Themes of suicide.
When you make a promise, you kind
of have to keep it. Even if you really, and I mean really, don’t want to. See,
when I promised Mrs Giles that I’d walk her dog whilst her hip was getting
better, I was thinking warm sunny walks, cider in hand maybe. Not so cold it
could give me frost bite and so late in season the sun starts to set at 4. But…
a promise is a promise.
So here I am, trudging through
rotting leaves and stagnant puddles whilst my neighbour’s dog has a smashing
time getting filthy. How can one small animal have so much energy? He darts
around quickly, leaving a trail of smoke leaves behind. His little head never
stops moving, he snaps it back and forth, ears swishing so violently I’m
surprised they don’t hit his eyes. He has moments of stillness, his front paw
raised elegantly as if he were a hunting dog, his wet black button nose
twitching with all the different smells and scents… and then he’s off again.
He’s having one of his moments when
he starts to whine, a shrill sound which makes my stomach go all uneasy, and
then he races off. Away with the path and through the tangles of nettles and
thorns. Shit. I race after him, feeling sharp stinging pain across my legs as I
battle with the weeds of the woods. I slip and splash into the gooey dirt, it clings
to my hands as I push off the ground and start running again. I come to a
clearing and see the dog sat at the bottom of an old oak tree next to a muddy
shoe, twigs tangled deep into his fur. His head is fixed staring upwards as his
little bubble eyes watch something carefully.
I try to see what he’s fixated on
and then suddenly I see her. A girl, high in the tree, dressed in a flowing
white dress which whips viciously in the cold wind.
I shout out “Hello?”.
She turns around and I watch as she
slips. I see the panic in her movements as she claws at the tree trunk and then
hugs it dearly.
“I’m sorry! I… are you okay?”.
She moves carefully, slowly
standing straight, arms outstretched for balance.
“I didn’t mean to scare you.” I
offer to her.
Finally, she looks down. Her hair
appears windswept and messy, as though she’s been up there for hours.
“I really am sorry”. I call up to
her.
“It’s fine.” She replies, although
it’s so quiet it’s hardly a whisper.
“What… what are you doing up
there?”.
“I…” she starts, but then snaps her
mouth shut. I watch her as she stares around for a second, carefully moving her
body so she doesn’t slip again. “I’m saying goodbye.”. She finishes and then
she leaps off.
She looks like a white feather as
she tumbles to the ground, it appears in slow motion at first, her dress
rippling and her hair reaching for the sky. But then it speeds up and there’s a
gruesome crunch as she lands amongst the leaves.
I am queen of the world. The sun
paints me the most beautiful picture, using bright oranges, pinks and reds,
swirling and twirling the paint so it makes a kaleidoscope of colour in the
sky. The birds dash and dart around me, serenading me with their joyful songs,
whilst squirrels chase each other, their bouncy fuzzy tails whipping quickly
through the air as they jump and dive. The world is truly beautiful.
I shut my eyes and just breathe
deeply. The air is clean and fresh, sweet smelling of pine needles and moss.
All I can hear is the sounds of the forest. No cars, no shouting, no sirens,
just nature.
I look down at myself, I tried to
dress for the occasion, but my clothes are now torn and muddy -but that just
makes them more perfect. My white dress dances in the evening breeze, waltzing
around my legs and showing gentle pools of green stains. My shoes are doused in
sludge, so I just kick them off. I watch them tumble to the ground and then
bounce amongst the leaves. My toes are now free. They wiggle and explore the
branch, feeling the gentle softness of emerald moss to then the harsh
abrasiveness of the wood itself, its bark flaking and then falling like
feathers to the earth bellow.
“Hello?”
I whip my head around to see my
intruder but turn too quickly. I feel my balance wobble and desperately scrape
my hands around the tree trunk. I can feel splinters burring deep beneath my
nails and cry out. But I’m steady. I’m fine. I can hear my heart thumping in my
ears and take a second to gulp down some air. I cautiously spread my legs
wider, taking time to find comfortable, sturdy footing.
“I’m sorry! I… are you okay?”
I dig my fingers into the bark of
the trunk and fix my posture so I’m standing straight.
“I didn’t mean to scare you.”
Finally, I fix my eyes on my disturber.
He’s lanky and stands tall, his clothes hang off him rather than fitting him
and he has a small panting dog at his feet.
“I really am sorry”.
“It’s fine.” I call down.
“What… what are you doing up
there?”.
“I…” I start, but don’t know how to
finish. What am I doing up here? Admiring the view? Bird watching? Going on an
adventure? Checking out the local art? “I’m saying goodbye.”.
It’s now or never, he’ll just try
to stop me. I smile at him and leap.
I feel like Alice falling down the
rabbit hole as the air whizzes past me and I see different shapes and colours.
The friendly face of a blackbird, its orange beak glowing in the setting sun,
the sage smear of living leaves to then the burnt reds of crisping husks, the
shadows of branches against the petal pink sky, the…
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