An Unexpected Destiny (Completed)

An Unexpected Destiny

Chapter 2: A Peculiar Thing and Happening

I have never seen anything like it. This kind of rock, that is. Where had it come from? It was as if someone had grabbed it from the UK and plopped down in the first woods she saw. Spontaneous doesn't even come near to explaining this. I cock my head to the side, puzzled. I am standing in the woods behind my house, which is in a secluded col-de-sac down the road from a quiet subdivision. I am on one of my after-school solitary hikes, one of the few highlights of my day. Here, unusual things rarely occur. I couldn't remember anything as peculiar as this mini-fridge sized boulder with Celtic symbols on it. Yet, here it was.

I walk around the boulder in jeans and plain buckle boots. It is a light grey and shaped similar to an egg; there are no flaws on it. The spirals of life marking on its face looks as if it has just been carved. I am obsessed with everything Celtic, so I recognize the art right away. I slowly spiral in closer to it, feeling a strange pull to touch it. The breeze rustles the thick canopy above me, making spots of sunlight dance on the thin grass of the forest floor. It is very quiet; the birds have stopped their songs and no bugs buzz. As soon as I stop at the face of the boulder, the hair on my neck and forearms rises and the breeze picks up. The leaves' harmony becoming louder.

I stare at the spirals, letting my eyes trail down each line of the trio. It is shaped with three spiraled circles, each connected to the others by three continuous lines always parallel to each other. I want to touch it; the strange pull is growing stronger while my instincts are warning me to turn and run.  Why should I run? I begin to gaze at the boulder, entranced. It is just a rock.  But I know that it actually isn't. There is something eerie about it, something not quite right. Something otherworldly. Although it looks young, the air around it says "Old. Very old: ancient."

The breeze turns into a cold wind and pulls me out of the strange enchantment the boulder seems to have on me. Stepping back a couple paces, I rub my arms thinly covered by a plaid shirt. I have a purple tank underneath and the plaid shirt is all the way open; I may be odd but I do have fashion sense. But I was hardly giving attention to my clothes because I realized that the sun had disappeared and the sky was a foreboding gray. The rustling leaves no longer sang 'Happiness and Delight', but rather 'Danger and Unknown'. Which, in the logical side of my brain spells "L-E-A-V-E-! LEAVE!"  But the other side of my brain, the side I used when writing and daydreaming interpreted it as 'Stay. Don't go.' The cold wind slaps me again, my shirt billowing out behind me. Goose bumps cover my torso and arms. It was like foreshadowing danger- and I wasn't imagining it. I was sure of it.

Just as I was sure I was going to run away--

Now--

I look past the boulder and trees behind it, to the sky above, and gasp.

The sky had turned from a pleasant gray to angry dark blue. I wheel on my heel and take a few faltering steps. After a few more, I hunch over, hands on my knees, out of breath. It's hard for me to take any more; I feel like I'm walking through quicksand or very thick mud. I am about two hundred feet from the boulder when I'm attacked. At least that is what it feels like. An exceedingly strong force grabs the back of my shirt, yanking me from my crouched position. He turns me around harshly and shoves me back towards the boulder. I try to resist, but after a few seconds give up. It is no use. I am usually a very determined person, but that was part of the issue: I didn't want to resist. In a matter of less than five minutes, I have ceased wanting to flee, instead giving in to vacuum-like force, sucking me down somewhere I knew nothing of. Leaves and twigs swirl around me and I half expect there to be lightning cracking above the trees.

I stumble back to the rock and fall to my knees before it. Eyes wide and a little in shock, my hand reaches itself up, with no thought from me, and lays upon the spirals. And it stays there. With the wind still rushing and the atmosphere like that of a mini hurricane, my hand could have been hot-glued to the stone. I do not even try to pull away; the force is taking over the rest of my body, creeping into my mind. I numbly think of how if I do not do something now, any resolve left shall be vanquished. Completely and utterly gone.

 Do something, you idiot! For a brief moment, I tear my eyes away from the marking, which is beginning to swallow my hand, and look behind me. I cannot see the small yellow brick house I grew up in, with my kind but disengaged parents, but I know it is on the other side of the woods. Just as I know I will not be returning to it. Not today. Or any day soon.

My head whips back and the woods blur around me, like I am spinning on one of those wheel things on a playground. There is a terrible roaring in my ears. I am being sucked into the rock: I watch my hand disappear inside, then my arm. My other hand and arm follow; all I can do is watch numbly. Not truly grasping what is occurring. Not that I could have done something about it: the vacuum becomes stronger with every minute-- or second? I do not know. My head feels really strange, like it is not quite attached to my neck, something my family and community has thought for years. For once, I have no argument against them.

My eyes begin slip shut when my legs are pulled in, so only my torso, neck and head are still in the real world. What real world? Things like this did not happen in the real world. Only in my head. But it is so real. "So real," I whisper, eyes half-shut, "so real."

I am no longer seeing anything and I feel nothing but a slight weariness underlined by an ironic thrill. I am floating in a heaven-like abyss. Finally, after what seems like and hour, my eyes are shut all the way by something other than my mind.

I float. A peculiar girl a victim of a peculiar happening.