A Puppet's Revenge (Wattys 2015)

Chapter Three

Today is my eighteenth birthday.

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I don't recognise this place. Where am I?

I'm walking. Walking under the light of the full moon, the grass damp against my bare feet, a long flowing dress, crimson as freshly spilled blood rustling around my ankles . The sky a dripping canvas of sparkling black ink looming above me like an ominous thought. The faint smell of lavender weaving it's way into my senses as a breeze caresses my skin tenderly, running ghostly fingers through my hair before dissipating into nothingness.

I am not where I should be.

Confused and afraid, I divert myself from the slightly indented grassy path upon hearing muffled cries for help in the distance.

I thought that I was alone...

I don't want to be alone...

My heart skips a painful beat: the agonised cries for help inciting a strange sensation of helplessness inside of me.

What's wrong?!

The night, indescribably beautiful only mere moments before, now appears to be incredibly sinister: choking me and wrapping shadowy tendrils around my ankles, causing me to fall painfully a couple of times.

Ignoring the pain, I break into a run, my breaths escaping me in short bursts, I finally tumble onto a waterlogged bank: the water from the expansive lake before me shimmering like mercury under the moonlight. There is a rotting wooden pontoon jutting out of the water a short way away: moss seeping out of the cracks like secrets from a traitor's mouth. Beneath it, was the source of the frantic pleas for help that had been silent for some time now: a hand would occasionally break the surface of the silvery lake, grasping at air.

I slipped on the uneven slope of grass as I took a shaky step forward, landing heavily on my side: a stone digging into my left rib painfully and hair falling in front of my face. Scrabbling to my feet, I sprint to the base of the unstable pontoon, my bare skin rubbed raw against the splintering wood beneath me. I try to call out to the drowning person before me, but no matter how hard I tried, no sound would escape my lips.

Why can't you hear me?!

Someone's watching me...

Yellow eyes in the dark...

I whirl around, dark hair whipping the air, heavy with a sudden silence. My coppery eyes scouring the near impregnable darkness of the surrounding tree-line. Wasting valuable seconds on my paranoia, I hurriedly pushed my fear to the back of my mind.

Screams forgotten from the waking hour long past.

Approaching the edge of the pontoon, I drop onto knees and reach down: stretching my arm as far as possible in futile attempts to reach the other person's hand. Searching the water desperately, I cannot see the rest of the person past their hand that was mere centimetres away from mine.

Just a little.... further...

With a touch.

Tears streaming down my face, I lie on my front - my torso hanging over the precipice in another attempt to reach their hand. However, it seemed that the more effort I put into reaching them, the farther away they were.

Wait!

With a simple touch...

Our fingertips brushed and both of our desperate movements halted.

Sparks shone before my eyes and left an ecstatic trail of burning heat in my veins.

Then.