\"Writing.Com
*Magnify*
SPONSORED LINKS
Printed from https://writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1947713-The-GIrl-Who-Feared-Trees
Item Icon
Rated: E · Other · Fantasy · #1947713
This is the start of a book I will never be able to finish.
White Rabbit





Chapter one

              Spiraling, cloudy, and green what a squalid last view before I was doomed to an untimely demise. All I heard was the viciousness of the rabid mouse humming querulously through my mind without end, and then nothing. Yet everything still raged on, I knew that right now as I sat in nowhere land awaiting the relentless reaper to carry me on- my boyfriend, my friends, my family, would all continue on. I was a dust mite betwixt the whole of the galaxy; my existence was even less significant now that I was no longer of the living. Truth be told, it didn’t even matter to me anymore. Sure my life was well, my life but obviously the stars weren’t aligned on my behalf.

             Or that was how I felt, until I started to see the world twirl tumultuously, wilder and wilder and then come directly to a halt. As the fog screen cleared I opened my eyes and saw something I wouldn’t have believed in a far off dreary night terror. There were trees everywhere, death filled trees that held lollipops and chocolates which were obviously expired from the lack of sunlight and imagination. I wondered where this decrepit old place might be, maybe I had gone completely schizo, maybe just maybe.

             The eeriness didn’t cease at the decaying candy trees, no this place was entirely off of the traditional granite counter top. The grass although also mortified, was at one point a beautiful array of licorice. The sun was not there, maybe it was past dusk. To me it seemed all the more likely that it was a child’s playground forever laying in a dismal darkness and surrounded by the grief of non existence and death. Was I here because I had passed on?  Were people on Earth really this wrong of how the next world would be ?

         These queries would not be answered for quite some time, I would stride clumsily along the path of brokenness squealing a bit with each step that let the ground slip from beneath my feet. Although there was a path it seemed to be one of horrible neglect, the ground was uneven and shaky. It all seemed as though the place had been left of all inhabitants to deteriorate until it itself was forgotten. I felt like I should have been dead but now I wondered more and more what death really consisted of... was it painful? I could not remember... Was it sad to die? I had not felt this sorrow. Was I really dead ? I presumed so.

         It startled me to hear any noise what so ever in this barren scape, as I looked to the rustle of the tree I was starring at my worst fear... my body sat  there mangled and tangled within the grasps of the hollow limbs. I quickly reached for it and just before I could reach it, it disappeared. What form of black magic was this ? Had I really been hallucinating still in death ? People have said all ailments end in the afterlife, I guess as usual I was a special case far from the rules of humanity.

         I walked a few more steps but now I was sure that the ground was shifting beneath my feet. I felt myself surely stand on air for a few brief seconds and then it all crumbled, I felt myself being sucked beneath the Earth by some unthinkable force. It had a death grip on my leg and all I could do to oppose this force was to kick  foolishly and attempt to firmly hold the bit of ground which still lay just barley within reach. I closed my eyes wondering what could kill a dead woman and hoped not to find out. Much to my surprise the Earth which I held onto seemingly transformed into a hand which pulled me away from the depths of the dark creatures grip. I was grateful to be saved and yet more stimulated by the fact that there was someone else in this lonely place automatically a million questions flushed through my mind.

© Copyright 2013 RP_HELP (rp_help at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates have been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Printed from https://writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1947713-The-GIrl-Who-Feared-Trees