Chapter 3: Running
Sarana's Gift will officially launch 1/29/2016. I hope you enjoy reading this segment. Also ... I would love to hear your comments and thoughts about the story. The next chapter will post on 1/6/2016 ... or, from now till 1/29/2016, you can get a complete copy of the story by leaving a note on the Email Us form on the right.
Artists: if this story inspires a piece of art, please share it and what it means to you. We'll share it here on the blog. Send us a note about your art and your email address in the Email Us form on the right.
Sarana's GiftChapter 3: Falling(Available here until 2/3/2016)
"Moonsilver" by Marina PetroThe horse ran fast, but not fast enough. I leaned closer to his neck, urging him on with my heels in his flanks. Glancing behind me, I clutched the flowing mane of the silver-white horse. Branches snatched at the white feathers woven into my hair as I galloped through the dark trees.
The horse's hooves drummed the earth as on and on we plunged.
“Away! I must get far away!” I cried and nudged the horse to go faster. Deeper and deeper into the forest we flew.
Frantic, I gripped the back of the heaving horse tighter as it pounded through the forest. Then, a rocky creek, too wide and deep for the horse to leap.
Sliding off, I whirled around to look behind me, and then ran to the creek. Hesitating briefly, I jumped from rock to rock until I reached the high, bouldered cliff on the other side.
The craggy wall rose solid and steep. “Impossible!” I groaned. “I can’t climb that high. What if I fall? What if I get hurt?” My breathing quickened. I scanned back and forth between the wall and the clearing where the silver-white horse stood grazing.
“I’ve ... I’ve got to get away.”
I scaled the first rock and dug my fingers into a crack to pull myself up to the next one. My fingernails tore as I scrabbled upwards from one boulder to the next, racing to get away. When I reached the top, I collapsed, my chest heaving as I sucked in more air. I rested a moment before struggling to stand up again.
“Go! Go. I must go.” I heaved myself up off the ground and saw a brushy field stretching toward the mountains in the distance. I ran toward them. The bushes snagged my arms and legs, but I kept going--running, running.
In the distance, a building materialized. As I ran toward it, I saw a gray, wooden cabin with a broad front porch. “It looks safe. I’ve got to get in.”
No smoke rose from the chimney. No light shone from the windows. I looked behind me once more and then dashed deeper into the thicket of waist-high buck brush between me and the cabin.
Scratched and exhausted, I finally reached the porch, but couldn’t find the steps.
I raced around the cabin. Once. Twice. No steps anywhere. I scrambled over the railing, constantly looking behind me. I needed to get in, but still couldn’t find the door.
Once again, I rushed around the porch, slowing down to examine every side. “No door! How can there not be a door? I have to get in.”
I pulled and tugged at the thick boards covering the windows but nothing budged. I banged my fist against them and screamed in frustration.
Frantically, I circled once more. Still no door. I climbed off the porch and backed away trying to see something … anything.
A raven cawed and I jerked my eyes up to the roof. “Maybe there’s a way in up there.”
I ran toward the vine-covered chimney and tugged on a vine. “Strong enough,” I muttered and started to climb … up … up. A thorn scraped me and blood trickled down my arm. I kept going. I had to get in.
I reached the top and crawled out onto the roof. I could see all the way to the horizon where the sun hovered low and my horse still grazed in the clearing.
I needed a way in but saw nothing.
Desperate, I searched again and again. Then I found a few thin lines on the far side of the roof that looked like the outline of a door, but my fingers couldn’t get a grip.
I tried to find a stick or something that would fit into the gaps. Nothing. Just some leaves and small twigs, and the raven, which cawed again. The sound startled me and I stumbled backward.
Click.
When I moved away, a door cracked open. I jerked on it and peered into the abyss where a ladder descended into the darkness. I looked back toward the forest clearing and then, with a rush, stepped onto the top rung of the ladder and began to climb down. I reached the bottom and found a staircase descending farther into the void.
What to do? Go back or take the stairs into that dark pit? “I have to get in! There’s no other way.”
Determined, I stepped forward. I could see nothing beyond the stairs and when I reached into the darkness, my hand disappeared and only reappeared when I pulled it back into the dim light of the staircase.
One step after another. Down. Down. I turned at each landing onto another set of stairs, into another long shaft of dim light surrounded by blackness. Nothing of the cabin showed, just the stairs. On I went. Down, flight after flight. My throat tightened and uneasiness surged through my body.
Another turn. Then nothing. The stairway stopped. I felt around again, watching my hands and arms disappear into the empty space. The air smelled fetid and dead. Frozen on the bottom step, it hit me: “I’m alone. I’m lost and helpless.”
My mouth went dry. “Nothing. There is nothing here.”
My body sagged with despair. I had no choice but to go back up that long, black staircase, back up to that empty roof, back to ...
Caw! Crash!
Everything went black. “No!” I shouted as I realized the door must have blown shut.
I spun around feeling for something to hold on to. Anything. Only cold, empty silence surrounded me.
My chest pounded as I sank to the floor and wrapped my arms around my knees and rocked back and forth, whimpering.
“What am I going to do?”
“Help! Someone please help me,” I whispered again and again even though I knew no one could hear me.
I sat anchored to the stairs, barely breathing, afraid to move. Faraway, a thin, ragged voice cried, “Please help me.”
I turned toward the sound and recognized my own voice scratching into the darkness but not making a mark on the chains of fear that held me.
“I can’t go back up those stairs. Who would help me if I fell?”
I inhaled trying to calm myself. Once. Twice. Again and again until the loud pounding in my chest slowed to a regular thudding.
“I can’t just stay here,” I resolved, struggling to stand up.
A pin prick of light blinked in front of me. I jerked toward it, but missed. A hot flash of nausea surged up my throat. I gagged and spat vomit into the darkness. Hopeless, I wiped my mouth against my arm, trying to get rid of the hot, sour taste.
Blink.
The tiny light blinked on again. Just for a second and then it stopped. I watched as the pattern repeated. On ... Off ... On ... .
Question: Where is all of this going? Have you ever felt this kind of fear?
(Please add your comments or questions in the Comment section below.)
Artists: if this story inspires a piece of art, please share it and what it means to you. We'll share it here on the blog. Send us a note about your art and your email address in the Email Us form on the right.
Sarana's GiftChapter 3: Falling(Available here until 2/3/2016)
"Moonsilver" by Marina PetroThe horse ran fast, but not fast enough. I leaned closer to his neck, urging him on with my heels in his flanks. Glancing behind me, I clutched the flowing mane of the silver-white horse. Branches snatched at the white feathers woven into my hair as I galloped through the dark trees.The horse's hooves drummed the earth as on and on we plunged.
“Away! I must get far away!” I cried and nudged the horse to go faster. Deeper and deeper into the forest we flew.
Frantic, I gripped the back of the heaving horse tighter as it pounded through the forest. Then, a rocky creek, too wide and deep for the horse to leap.
Sliding off, I whirled around to look behind me, and then ran to the creek. Hesitating briefly, I jumped from rock to rock until I reached the high, bouldered cliff on the other side.
The craggy wall rose solid and steep. “Impossible!” I groaned. “I can’t climb that high. What if I fall? What if I get hurt?” My breathing quickened. I scanned back and forth between the wall and the clearing where the silver-white horse stood grazing.
“I’ve ... I’ve got to get away.”
I scaled the first rock and dug my fingers into a crack to pull myself up to the next one. My fingernails tore as I scrabbled upwards from one boulder to the next, racing to get away. When I reached the top, I collapsed, my chest heaving as I sucked in more air. I rested a moment before struggling to stand up again.
“Go! Go. I must go.” I heaved myself up off the ground and saw a brushy field stretching toward the mountains in the distance. I ran toward them. The bushes snagged my arms and legs, but I kept going--running, running.
In the distance, a building materialized. As I ran toward it, I saw a gray, wooden cabin with a broad front porch. “It looks safe. I’ve got to get in.”
No smoke rose from the chimney. No light shone from the windows. I looked behind me once more and then dashed deeper into the thicket of waist-high buck brush between me and the cabin.
Scratched and exhausted, I finally reached the porch, but couldn’t find the steps.
I raced around the cabin. Once. Twice. No steps anywhere. I scrambled over the railing, constantly looking behind me. I needed to get in, but still couldn’t find the door.
Once again, I rushed around the porch, slowing down to examine every side. “No door! How can there not be a door? I have to get in.”
I pulled and tugged at the thick boards covering the windows but nothing budged. I banged my fist against them and screamed in frustration.
Frantically, I circled once more. Still no door. I climbed off the porch and backed away trying to see something … anything.
A raven cawed and I jerked my eyes up to the roof. “Maybe there’s a way in up there.”
I ran toward the vine-covered chimney and tugged on a vine. “Strong enough,” I muttered and started to climb … up … up. A thorn scraped me and blood trickled down my arm. I kept going. I had to get in.
I reached the top and crawled out onto the roof. I could see all the way to the horizon where the sun hovered low and my horse still grazed in the clearing.
I needed a way in but saw nothing.
Desperate, I searched again and again. Then I found a few thin lines on the far side of the roof that looked like the outline of a door, but my fingers couldn’t get a grip.
I tried to find a stick or something that would fit into the gaps. Nothing. Just some leaves and small twigs, and the raven, which cawed again. The sound startled me and I stumbled backward.
Click.
When I moved away, a door cracked open. I jerked on it and peered into the abyss where a ladder descended into the darkness. I looked back toward the forest clearing and then, with a rush, stepped onto the top rung of the ladder and began to climb down. I reached the bottom and found a staircase descending farther into the void.
What to do? Go back or take the stairs into that dark pit? “I have to get in! There’s no other way.”
Determined, I stepped forward. I could see nothing beyond the stairs and when I reached into the darkness, my hand disappeared and only reappeared when I pulled it back into the dim light of the staircase.
One step after another. Down. Down. I turned at each landing onto another set of stairs, into another long shaft of dim light surrounded by blackness. Nothing of the cabin showed, just the stairs. On I went. Down, flight after flight. My throat tightened and uneasiness surged through my body.
Another turn. Then nothing. The stairway stopped. I felt around again, watching my hands and arms disappear into the empty space. The air smelled fetid and dead. Frozen on the bottom step, it hit me: “I’m alone. I’m lost and helpless.”
My mouth went dry. “Nothing. There is nothing here.”
My body sagged with despair. I had no choice but to go back up that long, black staircase, back up to that empty roof, back to ...
Caw! Crash!
Everything went black. “No!” I shouted as I realized the door must have blown shut.
I spun around feeling for something to hold on to. Anything. Only cold, empty silence surrounded me.
My chest pounded as I sank to the floor and wrapped my arms around my knees and rocked back and forth, whimpering.
“What am I going to do?”
“Help! Someone please help me,” I whispered again and again even though I knew no one could hear me.
I sat anchored to the stairs, barely breathing, afraid to move. Faraway, a thin, ragged voice cried, “Please help me.”
I turned toward the sound and recognized my own voice scratching into the darkness but not making a mark on the chains of fear that held me.
“I can’t go back up those stairs. Who would help me if I fell?”
I inhaled trying to calm myself. Once. Twice. Again and again until the loud pounding in my chest slowed to a regular thudding.
“I can’t just stay here,” I resolved, struggling to stand up.
A pin prick of light blinked in front of me. I jerked toward it, but missed. A hot flash of nausea surged up my throat. I gagged and spat vomit into the darkness. Hopeless, I wiped my mouth against my arm, trying to get rid of the hot, sour taste.
Blink.
The tiny light blinked on again. Just for a second and then it stopped. I watched as the pattern repeated. On ... Off ... On ... .
Question: Where is all of this going? Have you ever felt this kind of fear?
(Please add your comments or questions in the Comment section below.)
No comments have been added yet.
