A/N This is another story that I began a long time ago. I guess that a disclaimer is customary in these things? I obviously don't own anything that I am using from C. S. Lewis and such. Nor do pretend that I do. I started this story around July 2008. Then it got abandoned in college...
Some have wondered what lies deep in the heart of space. Where do time, hydrogen, carbon, and the more obscure elements such as love end? If only youth knew the beauty of their own imaginations; the gift of childhood that lies within their minds and merely waits to be awakened.
Yet, somewhere, deep in the scope of a child's imagination lays a forest populated by the greenest of trees and the purest of brooks. It is a place altogether wonderful and yet strangely foreboding. Within this forest is force enough to bring empires into disarray and kindle life within the long lost and dead individuals who have ceased to breath by their own accord.
Despite its splendor, this wood is often forgotten; forgotten and dissuaded from ever again becoming the joy and life-breath of a child.
Still, this wood calls to each child by name, though they do not recognize its voice. Remember the feeling of the breeze brushing up against your cheek on a warm summer's afternoon? That was the voice of the wood. Calling…calling…and whispering.
A young girl, just newly eight years of age, sat on a park bench in a small suburban park. Off in the distance, a man threw a Frisbee to his great golden dog. The girl had always wanted a dog but her father had terrible allergies and had requested that she give up on the idea of ever owning one. When she was not glancing up to watch the golden dog and his master, she busied her hands with her PSP and hummed to the tune that escaped from her earbuds.
The yellow dog appeared to be laughing as he flew through the air to catch the Frisbee. He was most probably a mutt that had at least a little bit of retriever in his bloodlines. His master threw the Frisbee again and the dog leapt up to grab it out of the air. Just before his teeth brushed against the plastic edge, he returned his paws to the ground and then ran to where the little girl sat on the bench.
The dog's owner called after him but to no avail. With a huff, he followed after the dog and immediately gave an apology. "I am quite sorry; Leo seems to be forgetting his manners."
The little girl giggled and then scratched Leo beneath the chin; the dog responded with a profuse thumping of its rear leg. "He is such a beautiful dog!" She exclaimed while removing her earbuds and neatly putting it and her psp into a pile on the bench. "How old is he?"
"Leo?" the man replied, "oh he is about a year and a half now." And with that, he returned the dog's leash to its clip on the collar. "He seems to like you but it is now time for him to go home."
"Thank you for letting me pet him." Said the girl as the man and Leo walked away. She replaced the earbuds to her ears and then started off towards home.
"Home" consisted of a large, white two-story house situated in a cul-de-sac. It had a matching white fence that hemmed in the parameter of the house and yard. It was a very clean yard with neatly shaped hedges, flower-filled beds, and a well groomed lawn. The only thing in the yard was her brother's bike which she promptly put into the garage.
The interior of the house was also well groomed. Her mom was fond of the white chic look and had dominated the living room with it. Above the entry way was a candelabra with that white, hairy boa-stuff draped on it. On the floor was a sea of white carpet- a "no shoe zone". The girl removed her shoes before stepping into the house and stuck them in a basket in the broom closet next to the entrance-way.
Up the stairs and to the left was the girl's room. On the door was a sign that read "Marci" in a pink, sort of block-letter font. The walls were painted pink and had a border along the top that was full of music notes and, over the paint, hung many posters of popular bands. In one of the room's corners was Marci's brand new keyboard.
Marci plopped herself onto her bed, disorienting the music books that she had placed on it previously. One of them, Disney's The Lion King, slid of the bed and onto the floor. She gingerly picked it up and stuffed it onto one of her shelves.
Next to where she stuck the songbook lay her cell phone, blinking franticly in hopes that she would respond to her latest text message. Marci glanced at the screen and, after noticing that it was just Bonnie, chose to ignore it.
Returning to her bed, she picked up her diary and then sat down on her very pink and fluffy pillow. Next to yesterday's entry about Marcus, she detailed her experiences with the yellow dog, Leo.
The following morning, Marci awoke to a headache. Wondering if it was some sort of allergies, she went and looked in the mirror. Her eyes were indeed a bit puffy. After changing, she went downstairs to where her family was eating breakfast. Steam wafted up from the stack of waffles that had been placed in the middle of the table. Her place had already been set and, on her plate, a waffle waited patiently to be consumed.
She quickly sat down and joined in the eating of waffles. Marci noticed that her mom was almost done with her waffles and already in the mode to head off to work. Seizing the moment before her mother had time to rise from her chair; Marci asked her opinion on her suddenly red eyes. Her mother affirmed her conclusion that it was merely seasonal allergies and then left for work.
Marci finished breakfast and then headed back up to her room to rest her darkening eyes. After a short nap, she decided to read a book. She picked one of her favorites off the shelf, the Wizard of Oz, and thumbed to where she had left off. As she read, her mind kept straying to the golden dog she had seen the day before. He sure was a beauty. Some day she would own a dog just like him. After a few pages and daydreaming about the golden dog, Marci lost her appetite for reading. She put the book down and decided to venture outside.
Some of the neighborhood kids were riding bikes on the sidewalk. Her bike was in the garage. If only she weren't so introverted; she would love to join them. Alas, making friends had never been easy for Marci. She was shy and often the girl who stood on the outside of the circle. She could make friends; it just took time and often those friends would grow past her and she would again be left searching for a friend.
She walked past the kids on bikes and then back to the park where she had seen the golden dog. To her surprise, the golden dog was there, as was its owner. The dog saw her and wagged his tail. She took that to be a "hello". She smiled and then waived in response. If she didn't know better, Marci would have thought that the retriever-mix had a mischievous smirk playing upon its jowls.
In one corner of the park were some old elm trees and a public-use drinking fountain. Near the base of the fountain, Marci saw something twinkling in the morning sunlight. As she moved closer to it, she noticed that it was a locket. Thinking that perhaps an elderly woman had dropped it she picked it up in hopes of returning it. She would show it to her mother when she came home from work and ask her how best to return it. She hoped that whoever had lost it would be offering a reward for its return.
Walking home, Marci took some time to examine the locket that she had found near the drinking fountain. It smelled heavily of smoke and the front was ornately etched with the head of a lion. The hinges were a little rusted but screeched open when she pulled on the locket's clasp that held the door shut. The inside of the locket, on one side, had a Victorian picture of a girl and a bird, and on the other, a sheet of glass, behind which was a sort of yellow and green gel. She gently shook the locket and watched as the jell bubbled and swished behind the glass. No matter how much she shook it, the green and the yellow never intermixed. They were as polar opposite oils suspended behind the glass.
For being an old locket, Marci found it to be rather entertaining. She figured that whoever had lost it must be of some importance to own such a piece of she knew she shouldn't, Marci quickly undid the small clasp on the chain and refastened it upon her neck. She then reopened the locket to finish her perusal of its insides. Just as soon as she did, a barely audible music began to hum from deep within the locket's interior.
The tune that was emitted from the locket had a familiar flavor upon the ears but was yet something all together new to her mind. The longer she listened, the shorter it seemed that she had been listening to it at all. Within moments, she found herself yawning and the wind beginning to blow slightly more so than it had been only seconds before. As she opened her mouth to permit another yawn full of oxygen to run into her lungs, something odd began to take place. Within seconds of the next moment, Marci was asleep, as she rapidly began to dissolve and fade out of our world…
