The Book's Whisper

Like every other night, Hannah sat at the edge of her bed listening to music, whilst brushing through her long, and messy dark brown hair. As she did, her mind would wander off to indescribable places. Today she was thinking of the novel she had just finished reading. It was about two young lovers in the city. Hannah longed to experience a love like theirs, but her heart stood lonely, craving a boy who she could never have: one who did not know her name, her eyes, or her smile.

Finishing the novel, Hannah felt devastated, as the ending brought with it the breakup of the couple who she adored. Thus, with frustration, as she read the final words of the text, she had thrown the book carelessly on her desk. She simply could not accept the harsh reality the author had exhibited in the last few pages.

When Hannah finished brushing her hair, she scooted back to the top of the bed and cuddled herself up under the sheets, still wandering what could have been. In a short minute she was lost in a dream.

Hannah is suddenly awoken from her dream from a noise echoing in her room. At first she was shocked and frightened, but only to learn that it was just her book that had stumbled off the desk, and that her feline friend Sandy was standing sheepishly were the book had lay. Hannah was relieved, and silently called the cat to the bed. But it stood erect, wide-eyed, starring sharply at her like a hawk hunting down its prey. Hannah retrieved, simply shutting her eyes, until; a voice.

It was now that she believed that her 17 year old self could actually wet the bed. The voice came from the book, and for a second she thought she was going crazy. In that moment she felt like a storm of bees had become trapped inside her chest and were trying to break loose, but with every attempt, they would sting her. From the book she heard the whisper of a young woman calling her. Feeling uneasy, Hannah stood from her bed. Her bare feet touched the cold floor beneath, and her tired legs dragged towards the fallen book. As she reached the book, she felt a sinking feeling, and found herself falling down in spirals. Ink, fear, and void had engulfed her.

With a sharp scream and a ferocious thump, her body met the dirty ground beneath. Hannah found herself laying in a silent alley behind Oxford Street in London. She hurriedly picked herself off the ground and attempted to wipe her pajama trousers clean. Afraid, she ran out into the crowd. But how she had been transported from her bedroom in Liverpool to London was beyond her understanding.

Searching out into the crowd for someone to help her find her way to the tube, Hannah believed that she saw a familiar face. But it was not one she had seen in real life before this moment. Rather, it was a face she had imagined: the woman from the book. The woman was thin and tall, but rather lanky. She had white porcelain skin, full red lips, and dirty blonde locks, which were tied neatly in a bun. Hannah found herself being awed by the woman's beauty. Nonetheless, she felt even more confused. Had she hurt her head when she fell? Was she hallucinating? What was happening?

Looking for answers, Hannah rushed towards the woman, almost losing her amongst the crowds.

As the girl approached the woman, she noticed something she had not before. Her rich brown eyes were filled with tears, but it looked like she was trying to hold them back. Without introduction, Hannah asked the woman what was wrong.

The woman stood silent, her lips pressed tight, and her eyes squinted, as she broke into a weak sob. Hannah tried to comfort the stranger, but the woman pushed her away, trying to run off. Hannah stopped her in her tracks.

"It was you wasn't it? The voice I heard" Hannah said.

"Tell me what's wrong- please".

"Life is not a fairytale Hannah. You are so young. You know so little. Stop hopelessly dreaming for an illusion" whispered the woman, placing a hand on the girl's shoulder.

''Don't you know? It's all right here-" the woman placed a finger on Hannah's forehead.

"Isn't it funny how we let our imaginations run wild".

A roar was heard from above their heads and the sky darkened. A few raindrops trickled down Hannah's cheek and lightly grazed her lower lip. But this went unnoticed by Hannah as a high pitched scream stole her attention. Giving the woman her beck, Hannah watched as waves high as the sky galloped towards her. In the distance, she watched as Poseidon's fury carried with him every fragment of life that stood in his path. Hannah sprinted forwards, already breathless from fear. But her short legs got the best of her, and she stumbled recklessly onto the ground. The pavement beneath almost screamed when her chin scraped the ground. She tried to push her body upwards but failed. Her face felt numb and blood started gushing out of her wound. The ground was now wet, and the drops that fell from her face had a pink hue.

"I give up".

In one swift motion the waves crashed upon her body.
She was now one with the water, lost, and taken slave.
There were only so many seconds she could hold her breath.
Did those few seconds of life mattered anyway?

The salt water broke into her lungs.
She reached out into the void, but no one was there to grab her hand.
Her head now bent in every direction.
Her lungs corrupted.

Hannah's body suddenly fills with oxygen. She holds on to the sheets beneath and coughs. Looking at the window in front of her bed, she rests her head into her palm, breathing heavily.

It must have been a nightmare.

Had she even woken up?

The book lay on her desk.
The cat was fast asleep.

The next day, whilst waiting for the professor to start the lecture, Hannah took a quick glance at the boy she had been thinking about since the first day of school. He sat in a corner by the windowsill: alone.

She only wished in this moment that he knew her face. Gazing longer than she would like to admit, the boy caught a glimpse of her face. Starring, he smiled back.

-

END