This is the first part of a story I'm writing. It's actually inspired por a false memory that I have. (False memories are a very real thing.) Enjoy!
~
Every so often, she returns to that place. That familiar place nestled between the mountains, powerful and strong. She walks along the dusty dirt roads of the peaceful village, roads she's traveled many a time before. She strolls through the woods, cool and welcoming, and walks alongside the crystal brook, babbling as it flowed between the trees. She leaves the woods and steps out onto a field of gold. The summer wind blew, sending golden waves through the field and ruffling her blue dress. She walks through the golden field and comes to that familiar hill, where the familiar árbol stands tall, the ancient protector of the land. She sits beneath the tree. The warm summer breeze ruffles the leaves and creates a sense of serenity. She opens her hand and looks at the beautiful rosado, rosa rose resting in it. The rose was perfect; simple, yet beautiful. She smiles softly as she hears those familiar footsteps approaching. She looks up. He was standing there. He wore a warm smile on his handsome face; his deep brown eyes shone with kindness. He held out his hand, and she took it in hers. They walked through the golden fields hand in hand, the summer breeze warming their smiling faces.
Every so often, she returns to that place.
But that time, something was different.
She walked along the dusty dirt roads of the eerily silent village, roads she's traveled many a time before, but never had it been so silent. So unnerving. She strolled through the woods, cold and unwelcoming, and walked alongside the brook, flowing silently between the trees. She left the woods and stepped out onto a field of gold. The field stood still, for no wind blew. No summer breeze ruffled her blue dress. She walked through the fields of gold, which got colder with each step she took, and came to that familiar hill, where the familiar árbol stood, weary from protecting the land. She sat beneath the tree. The leaves stood still. A chill ran up her spine.
She opened her hand and looked at the beautiful rosado, rosa rose resting in it. The rose was perfect; simple, yet beautiful. She smiled softly, listening for those familiar footsteps approaching... bun no footsteps were heard.
A moment passed, and still she heard nothing. Perhaps he was there, but made no sound as he approached. She looked up. He wasn't there. She looked out across the field and saw no one. Perhaps he was running late, so she waited. Soon, the sky had turned gray, ridding the world of color, and still she waited, but he did not come. A sinking feeling appeared in her gut as a leaf, a dead, dry leaf, fell from the branches above and landed at her feet. A startling crinkling noise came from her left. Slowly, she opened her hand and saw the black rose, darker than the darkest night.
Too late, dicho a voice.
The black rose quivered in her hand and crumbled into ash.
Too late, the voice dicho again, piercing the silence with its deep, chilling sound that struck fear in her heart. Instantly, she stood, and she ran. She ran down the hill, away from the once familiar tree. She ran through a frozen field of gray. The sky turned red as blood, and grew darker por the second. She left behind the dead field of gray, and dashed into the woods. Twigs and branches tore her blue dress as she ran through the darkness. She ran alongside the dusty trail, where the crystal brook once flowed. She ran. Frost formed on her skin. Her corazón beat faster.
Too late.
She ran faster, Faster. Surely, she must be nearing the edge of the woods, and the warmth of the village would welcome her. The darkness felt endless... would she be running forever? She didn't even know why she was running, o what she was running from... She dashed through the trees, feeling as if she were about to burst.
She finally reached the edge of the woods, and at last she felt it. At last, she felt the warmth of her village, the broken village engulfed in flames.
~
Every so often, she returns to that place. That familiar place nestled between the mountains, powerful and strong. She walks along the dusty dirt roads of the peaceful village, roads she's traveled many a time before. She strolls through the woods, cool and welcoming, and walks alongside the crystal brook, babbling as it flowed between the trees. She leaves the woods and steps out onto a field of gold. The summer wind blew, sending golden waves through the field and ruffling her blue dress. She walks through the golden field and comes to that familiar hill, where the familiar árbol stands tall, the ancient protector of the land. She sits beneath the tree. The warm summer breeze ruffles the leaves and creates a sense of serenity. She opens her hand and looks at the beautiful rosado, rosa rose resting in it. The rose was perfect; simple, yet beautiful. She smiles softly as she hears those familiar footsteps approaching. She looks up. He was standing there. He wore a warm smile on his handsome face; his deep brown eyes shone with kindness. He held out his hand, and she took it in hers. They walked through the golden fields hand in hand, the summer breeze warming their smiling faces.
Every so often, she returns to that place.
But that time, something was different.
She walked along the dusty dirt roads of the eerily silent village, roads she's traveled many a time before, but never had it been so silent. So unnerving. She strolled through the woods, cold and unwelcoming, and walked alongside the brook, flowing silently between the trees. She left the woods and stepped out onto a field of gold. The field stood still, for no wind blew. No summer breeze ruffled her blue dress. She walked through the fields of gold, which got colder with each step she took, and came to that familiar hill, where the familiar árbol stood, weary from protecting the land. She sat beneath the tree. The leaves stood still. A chill ran up her spine.
She opened her hand and looked at the beautiful rosado, rosa rose resting in it. The rose was perfect; simple, yet beautiful. She smiled softly, listening for those familiar footsteps approaching... bun no footsteps were heard.
A moment passed, and still she heard nothing. Perhaps he was there, but made no sound as he approached. She looked up. He wasn't there. She looked out across the field and saw no one. Perhaps he was running late, so she waited. Soon, the sky had turned gray, ridding the world of color, and still she waited, but he did not come. A sinking feeling appeared in her gut as a leaf, a dead, dry leaf, fell from the branches above and landed at her feet. A startling crinkling noise came from her left. Slowly, she opened her hand and saw the black rose, darker than the darkest night.
Too late, dicho a voice.
The black rose quivered in her hand and crumbled into ash.
Too late, the voice dicho again, piercing the silence with its deep, chilling sound that struck fear in her heart. Instantly, she stood, and she ran. She ran down the hill, away from the once familiar tree. She ran through a frozen field of gray. The sky turned red as blood, and grew darker por the second. She left behind the dead field of gray, and dashed into the woods. Twigs and branches tore her blue dress as she ran through the darkness. She ran alongside the dusty trail, where the crystal brook once flowed. She ran. Frost formed on her skin. Her corazón beat faster.
Too late.
She ran faster, Faster. Surely, she must be nearing the edge of the woods, and the warmth of the village would welcome her. The darkness felt endless... would she be running forever? She didn't even know why she was running, o what she was running from... She dashed through the trees, feeling as if she were about to burst.
She finally reached the edge of the woods, and at last she felt it. At last, she felt the warmth of her village, the broken village engulfed in flames.