Sometimes the best way to let go of some end of term stress is to write without structure. Enjoy :)
"…the most nonnegotiable demands of human democracy are protected most securely in democracies. The government will work to achieve human dignity in…" I leaned back in my chair as a yawn escaped from me for what seemed to be the hundredth time in the past hour. Foreign policy was much more exciting when you weren't reading the "National Security Strategy" for your country. Who knew it could be so droll?
Mairin looked out into the darkness beyond the glass panes of her window, feeling an uncomfortable tug from the pit of her stomach. She wanted to be out there, doing her thing, having her Outing. She thought she could handle being a student for one night, yet here she sat, envying those engulfed in the dark anonymity of the night.
Ridiculous.
Just because she wanted to be elsewhere didn't mean she should stop her studying. She was in college, after all. Most students probably felt a similar pull when thinking about going to the bars or some such. If they ignored it, so could she.
So she turned her gaze back to the pages before her—barely noticing the way her finger twirled bits of shredded paper through the air to her left, like a small flurry of snow trapped above her hand.
A subtle sound distracted her once more from the ever fascinating policy report, and she glanced around trying to find the source of the noise.
"What on earth…?"
Standing, she allowed the paper snow-flakes to drop to the ground, making only a soft hush as they found the carpet.
Walking in a slow circle around her room, the rattling sound became increasingly louder until a thud from behind caused her to jump.
"Shit!" Mairin cursed, hands going up to protect her face, and legs sliding back into a fighting stance. But as she turned, she found nothing there. Nothing except the book case which always stood there.
"Now what are you doing there?" She peered at the one thing which was out of place. An old book she had brought from home was lying open on the carpeting. Bending over, she reached towards the open page. On it was an old ink print of a forest, but that couldn't be right? Could it? There had never been any pictures in the book before.
Perhaps the page had been stuck to another? Mairin shook her head. What was going on? Why did the book fall from the shelf? Had they had an earthquake?
Frowning, she bent to pick up the book. Yet as her hand touched the page, a shiver ran up her spine and the scene began to change.
Before her, the image began to lift itself off the pages of the book, growing and expanding until ink outlines of the forest bent and twisted its way around Mairin, separating her like a cage from the room.
Her heart beat faster within her chest as the scene began to sharpen and grow more defined, colors filling in the ink outlines. She stood straight, one leg moving behind her slightly, and rotating to the balls of her feet.
Deep breath in, deep breath out.
A tear pricked at her eye, and her hands began to shake.
She clenched her hands into fists and sunk deeper into her fighting stance.
What was going on?
The ink outlines began to fade, leaving solid trees in their wake. A warm breeze tugged at loose strands of her hair. She felt herself being called to the breeze, like to like, but she kept her ground. Now, she could not stop her hands from shaking as she took in the scene around her.
Gone were the cinderblock walls and the too-old carpet of her dorm. What surrounded her now was…a forest. A true forest, with trees larger and more beautiful than any she had seen before. There was bright green grass scattering the ground where bushes left clearings, flowers peeking out from between the stalks.
It was when she finally lost her careful control of her breathing, and her head began to spin, that Mairin slowly sat on the ground, warmed by the sun worming its way through the canopy of leaves.
"This…this is new," her voice was feeble and cracked with each word, but there was no one to hear but the trees. And it wasn't like those could listen, right?
She gently pulled the warm breeze around to where she sat, playing subtly with its directions, enveloping herself in a ball of warmth. The action calmed her, the repetitive wave-like motions of her hands becoming a form of meditation. Soon the shaking stopped and her heart calmed. Slowly, her mind moved from its repetitive series of curses into a more normal train of thought.
She needed to figure out where she was. That's what she needed to do. Yes, that sounded good. Ignore how she got here and why, just figure out where for now and the rest would add itself in later.
Mairin didn't know how long she'd been walking, but it had been long enough for new blisters to emerge on her already callused feet—a feat in and of itself, pardon the pun.
The sun had long since begun to set, the shadows growing ever longer within the wood. In the city, the shadows had been her friend, her refuge. But here, they were ominous and menacing. She fancied she heard the growl of a wolf once or twice, though none appeared before her. Once, she even sent a lance of wind into bush that quivered—and terrified a small rabbit out of its hiding place.
To be frank: she was terrified.
She'd faced down thugs and drunkards, criminals and lowlifes, with barely a nervous twitch. Yet here in the middle of nowhere, alone and more confused than she'd been the day of the mini-tornado, she was afraid.
The warm breeze which had greeted her so readily had long since floated off, leaving a dark chill in its wake. Though she was thankful she was wearing long pants and a loose top, rather than her normal night time shorts, they were no match for the cold of the night.
After stubbing her toe for the fifth time on a rock hidden in the shadows, she realized she could go no further for the time.
She nimbly climbed the first few levels of branches on a nearby oak—far larger than any she had seen back home—and nestled her back against its bark. Sleep was not an option. Not yet, not until she knew where she was. But until then, she could rest her feet at the very least. Besides, being on the ground and open for anyone's picking was not sounding very appealing at the moment. She could have sworn she'd heard something following her not long before stopping.
And so she sat, watchful and aware, still as the night breeze around her. It was like an Outing, she told herself. Just replace a tree branch for a rooftop, and the hunter for the hunted. Just like an Outing.
And, just like an Outing, trouble was soon to make its appearance.
R&R ;)
