SINKING IN THE SANDS
It was night, as the dreaming child of thirteen years climbed into her bed. She was the spitting image of her mother; sparkling green eyes, full, rosy lips, rosy cheeks, and long, wavy bronze coloured hair with an occasional curl, and a hidden kiss in the right-hand corner of her mouth.
As the night owl hooted, Jane ran to the large window, sensing something. "Is anyone there?" A heavenly voice asked. Without an answer, Jane closed the window and hopped into bed once more.
The cream door opened, as Wendy walked in. Her once free hair was pulled back into a tight bun, as her face gave an elegant, womanly smile. "Goodnight, Jane." She murmured, kneeling down and planting a warm kiss on her daughter's forehead.
Jane looked up at her with curious eyes. "Mother, why don't you tell us your stories anymore?"
Wendy sighed, tucking Jane in. "Because, those stories are just make believe." She looked at the window, seeing it all the way open. "Jane! What did I tell you about this window!" she gasped, running to the window and locking it. She turned back to her daughter. "Always keep it closed!"
Jane looked at the window with fright. "I-I thought I closed the window." She stated, looking down at the wooden floor, covered by the toys over it.
"You don't know how dangerous it is to have a window open!" Wendy scolded, looking at Jane with cold eyes.
Jane pushed the sheets away from her and hopped up. "I told you, I thought I closed it!" she yelled with frustration. "It's like you're trying to keep me in instead of keeping other things out!" she screamed. "What could possibly come in here?"
Wendy stood there, dumbfounded. Then, collecting herself, the parana decided to snap back at her baby fish. "A kidnapper, that's what! I have the right not to tell you, but I need to say that I care about you very much! You're my daughter, and you should realise that you aren't five anymore. Because when you were five, I didn't need to tell you anything!" Wendy's yells shook the house, making Jane's family run inside.
"What is it?" Daniel asked, the seven-year-old brother of Jane.
Jane looked over at Daniel, tears streaking down her face. "Go back to bed." She muttered.
Mr. Anderson, Jane's father, looked at her with confusion. "Jane, just do what your mother tells you." He murmured. The tall man with the mustache walked over and kissed Jane's cheek. "It'll all be alright. I promise." He shot a look at Wendy, almost a joking one. "Whatever the problem is, it will all be better in the morning."
Wendy nodded, joining her husband. "I just want you to stay safe, child." Jane nodded with a sniffle, looking down at the floor.
"Come now, we'd better leave you alone." Mr. Anderson left with his family, holding Daniel in his arms.
The minute they closed the door, leavnig Jane in silence, she walked to the locked window and opened it.
"I want to go away." She whispered while another tear streaked down her cheek. "I want to forget my mother."
Snowflakes fell on the window seat, as the wind lightly whispered a name.
"Wendy." The wind whispered like a ghost. Jane whipped herself around, looking at the window.
"Who said that?" she asked herself, trembling. A brief look of terror appeared on her face, but it was shrugged off. "Just the wind."
Jane ran her fingers through her long hair as she climbed into bed for the third time that night, her hair surrounding her face on her pillow. She looked heavenly, trying to fall asleep and dream of ice-cream and violets.
Still the wind whispered her mother's name. The whispers surrounded Jane, until she jerked up, looking around the room with terror. She ran to the window and closed it, but opened it again. She looked at her hands, red from the cold melted snow. On and on, Jane kept opening and closing the window, unsure of what to do. Finally, she decided to leave the window half- way open, and halfway closed.
Satisfied with herself, the beautiful girl fell asleep with a light smile on her face, forgetting about her mother, just what she wanted to dream about.
It was night, as the dreaming child of thirteen years climbed into her bed. She was the spitting image of her mother; sparkling green eyes, full, rosy lips, rosy cheeks, and long, wavy bronze coloured hair with an occasional curl, and a hidden kiss in the right-hand corner of her mouth.
As the night owl hooted, Jane ran to the large window, sensing something. "Is anyone there?" A heavenly voice asked. Without an answer, Jane closed the window and hopped into bed once more.
The cream door opened, as Wendy walked in. Her once free hair was pulled back into a tight bun, as her face gave an elegant, womanly smile. "Goodnight, Jane." She murmured, kneeling down and planting a warm kiss on her daughter's forehead.
Jane looked up at her with curious eyes. "Mother, why don't you tell us your stories anymore?"
Wendy sighed, tucking Jane in. "Because, those stories are just make believe." She looked at the window, seeing it all the way open. "Jane! What did I tell you about this window!" she gasped, running to the window and locking it. She turned back to her daughter. "Always keep it closed!"
Jane looked at the window with fright. "I-I thought I closed the window." She stated, looking down at the wooden floor, covered by the toys over it.
"You don't know how dangerous it is to have a window open!" Wendy scolded, looking at Jane with cold eyes.
Jane pushed the sheets away from her and hopped up. "I told you, I thought I closed it!" she yelled with frustration. "It's like you're trying to keep me in instead of keeping other things out!" she screamed. "What could possibly come in here?"
Wendy stood there, dumbfounded. Then, collecting herself, the parana decided to snap back at her baby fish. "A kidnapper, that's what! I have the right not to tell you, but I need to say that I care about you very much! You're my daughter, and you should realise that you aren't five anymore. Because when you were five, I didn't need to tell you anything!" Wendy's yells shook the house, making Jane's family run inside.
"What is it?" Daniel asked, the seven-year-old brother of Jane.
Jane looked over at Daniel, tears streaking down her face. "Go back to bed." She muttered.
Mr. Anderson, Jane's father, looked at her with confusion. "Jane, just do what your mother tells you." He murmured. The tall man with the mustache walked over and kissed Jane's cheek. "It'll all be alright. I promise." He shot a look at Wendy, almost a joking one. "Whatever the problem is, it will all be better in the morning."
Wendy nodded, joining her husband. "I just want you to stay safe, child." Jane nodded with a sniffle, looking down at the floor.
"Come now, we'd better leave you alone." Mr. Anderson left with his family, holding Daniel in his arms.
The minute they closed the door, leavnig Jane in silence, she walked to the locked window and opened it.
"I want to go away." She whispered while another tear streaked down her cheek. "I want to forget my mother."
Snowflakes fell on the window seat, as the wind lightly whispered a name.
"Wendy." The wind whispered like a ghost. Jane whipped herself around, looking at the window.
"Who said that?" she asked herself, trembling. A brief look of terror appeared on her face, but it was shrugged off. "Just the wind."
Jane ran her fingers through her long hair as she climbed into bed for the third time that night, her hair surrounding her face on her pillow. She looked heavenly, trying to fall asleep and dream of ice-cream and violets.
Still the wind whispered her mother's name. The whispers surrounded Jane, until she jerked up, looking around the room with terror. She ran to the window and closed it, but opened it again. She looked at her hands, red from the cold melted snow. On and on, Jane kept opening and closing the window, unsure of what to do. Finally, she decided to leave the window half- way open, and halfway closed.
Satisfied with herself, the beautiful girl fell asleep with a light smile on her face, forgetting about her mother, just what she wanted to dream about.
