The Girl in the White Dress

The forest floor was littered with patched of sunlight that filtered down through the trees. My heart pounded as I searched the foliage for anything out of the ordinary. I stopped by the thick oak tree and looked around once more. I saw nothing. I heard nothing. And yet, I could tell I was not alone. Had I been followed? I had thought I’d been able to slip away rather successfully. I turned around, taking in my surroundings and watching, warily.
I was still wearing the long, flowing white dress, my wedding dress. The sleeves fanned out and the it laced up the back, fitting me perfectly. My golden hair was pulled up in an elaborate coiffure. My mother had said I looked like a goddess. And indeed, I should. This was my wedding day. It should have been the happiest day of my life. And yet, here I was, escaping my ladies in waiting just hours before the wedding ceremony.
My stomach turned with anticipation. Today I was going to be married. The reality of the situation was just now hitting me with the full force of it’s importance. I clutched my stomach and breathed deeply through my mouth. I could do this. I had been born for this. It was my duty and it was an honor. And yet, my heart was breaking as the realization hit me and I felt like I would never be able to go back to the wedding ceremony.
I suddenly became aware of someone watching me. I turned around. A man stood several feet away, just watching me. He had deep eyes and sweeping, dark hair. He was well built and tall and was wearing his usual breeches, boots, loose shirt and jerkin.
I couldn’t move. At the sight of him, my heart had stopped and my stomach had dropped. We simply stood, watching each other for a moment.
“I have to go back soon.” I whispered, feeling the tears rise in my chest.
He nodded.
“I’m sorry.” I whispered, my voice choking.
He shook his head. “There’s nothing anyone could do.”
I nodded my agreement. But we both knew this wasn’t true. My father could have done something.
“So, I guess this is goodbye.” he said, cautiously.
I looked up at him sharply. “What do you mean?”
“oh, come on,” he said incredulously “You didn’t think they’d let us see each other, did you?”
I didn’t say anything, I didn’t have to. We both knew he was right. I would probably never see him again.
“I’m sorry.” he said.
My face crumpled with emotion. I felt angry and frightened and wretched.
“This is suppose to be the day of my dreams.” I mumbled through my tears. “Not the day of my nightmares.”
He stepped toward me and gently lifted my faced to look at him.
“It’s going to be okay.” he said firmly.
I didn’t reply, just looked at him with disbelief and hopelessness.
He shrugged as if to say he didn‘t know why he was being so positive. “This is the way the world turns.” he said “And nothing you or I could do will ever make it turn back.”

This was something I wrote a long time ago and it was inspired by a picture I had, but I wasn't able to get that particular picture to upload...

Masks

The people, the music, the faces, all glided around me. A sea of masks surrounded me. My own mask was that of a dark enchantress and was a welcome change to my pale complexion. My eyes gleamed from the depths of the eyeholes in my mask, surveying the room, searching the masks for familiarity. But the room was dark and the masks changed the identity of each person in the room. Smokey candles lined the walls and extravagant chandeliers hung by ropes from the ceiling. The walls were gold and mirrors and the room seemed to go on and on forever. The musicians seemed to play a haunting melody and bodies swirled in step with the notes. I wove my way through the dancing bodies and glanced around the room again, but the familiar ballroom was now a disorienting new world. My heart was beating rapidly as my eyes scanned the crowds for a figure, though I did not know what he would look like. Someone brushed behind me and I jumped, my nerves feeling as though they were stretched taught. I spun, trying be calm and unnoticed. I had said that I could handle this. I couldn’t go and freak out now that I was in the middle of it. From behind, someone gripped my elbow. My heart leapt, my muscles tensing and eyes growing wide behind my mask. The firm hand led me out into the center of the room, the people becoming more and more tightly packed. Then the hand spun me so that I was facing him. His mask was that of a wild animal and in his eyes, I could see he was dangerous person. His skin was darkened by the sun and smooth and his hair was dark as well. His movements were fluid-like as he swept me around the ballroom. I found myself unable to speak. Even with the mask, I could tell this man was handsome, perfect, strong and sure. I felt like a little girl, dropping my eyes to floor and blushing at his beauty. But then I remembered who he was and why he was dancing with me. I lifted my eyes and stared straight into the eyes of the wild beast. I could feel my heart beating as I held his gaze. His eyes seemed to be peering into my soul and it took all of my will to keep staring back. His hand tightened on my waist and he pulled my closer. I could hardly breathe.
“It’s quite warm tonight, don’t you agree?” he whispered close to my ear. Even those simple words made goose-bumps appear on my arms. But those words weren’t so simple, I knew. They were the words to prove his identity and I had to reply.
“I disagree. I find the weather quite pleasant tonight.” I say. These words will verify my reliability.
The masked man twirls me around, taking in the people around us. Then he leans close to my ear and says “The wind bends to the unanswering call and enemies are moths in the night.”
I pulled away, looking into my eyes to assure that I have heard his words. I slightly incline my head to show that I have understood. We stop dancing and the man takes my hand bows low over it, then kisses it. He looks up one last time into my eyes, then turns and disappears into the crowd of still-dancing people. The hand he has kissed folds around a small square of paper and then I turn in the opposite direction as the man and make my way back out of the ballroom.

This is a fragment of a story I wrote...

Isle

When I think of the words "isle" I am on a boat.  The water that surrounds me is still, but not calm and the air is still and quiet.  Everything is still and quiet.  The boat rocks on the gray waters and around me I hear the rumblings of thunder.  Mist rises up and covers our path, the path our boat is creating through the water.  Before us, is the isle.  A mysterious strip of land, abandoned and dangerous.  This is where they died.  Death and mystery surround this place, hanging on the branches of trees and rolling on the ground.  This is the place that haunts my nightmares.  I have seen this place only once before and now I have returned to finish what what was once begun. 

The point of that little blip up there was to pick a word from my list of awesome words (yes, i have one), and write whatever happened to pop into my head when i heard the word.  The word I chose was Isle and I just got this image of darkness and a mysterious place surrounded by death.  Sorry if I seems morbid, it isn't meant to, it's just my imagination...hmm that doesn't sound good. haha
That One Girl

Just a Bit of Fiction

People like happy endings. I guess that’s why people never got my ending straight. It’s not what you think. I didn’t ride off into the sunset with a dashing prince to live happily ever after; not even close. Instead the cold air wraps around me as I stand, the rough wood beneath my fingers, my dress thin and ragged, my hair tangled and blowing in the wind. This isn’t the ending you’re familiar with, this is something different. This is the truth.

For one night I lived my dream, for one night I stood in that dazzling ballroom, surrounded by beautiful people. And the most beautiful person there, held me in his arms and spun me around the room. It was just how I imagined it would be, but in my dreams it lasted longer than one night, in my dreams it lasted forever. Not so, in reality; in reality I’m running down flights of stairs, a loud clock tower ringing all around me, reminding me who I am and why I’m running. I was never meant to live this life of royalty. I know I’m being followed and when I turn to see if it’s him, my ankle twists beneath me. My glass shoe cracks beneath me. I jump up, leaving the shoe where it has fallen and continue running. I’m sure you’re all very familiar with this part. I’m sure you think you know what comes next. The prince searches for the girl who lost the slipper and low and behold, I am the only girl who can fit into the shoe. Sorry to disappoint you, but that isn’t how it goes.

The Hunger Games

So, I just want to give a little shout out to one of the best books on the planet: The Hunger Games by Susanne Collins. This book and it's following series is one of my favorite books and I think that everyone should read it. This post is basically just to encourage those who haven't read The Hunger Games to go to the library or the bookstore or whatever and get it right now. And then read it of course.
I also found a really cool youtube fanmade trailer for The Hunger Games. It's probably the best trailer I've seen so far. So, go watch it if you want to know more about the book or are  a fan. I'll try and see if I can get it linked to this somehow...I'm still new at this.
That One Girl

“Winning means fame and fortune.

Losing means certain death.
The Hunger Games have begun…”

Forgotten

Do you have any of those things in life that you just forget about. You are constantly around them and they become such a part of your world that they blend into life and they no longer stand out. Thus you forget their existence. Such it was with an old rope swing that has hung in my back yard for years. Then, two days ago, I seemed to see it as if for the first time. I swung on the swing for a long time, wondering how i had so easily forgotten about it. I think we treat people that way sometimes too! We take them for granted because we never consider that one day they might not be there when we need them. This is just something that struck me today and I thought I'd share it with whoever might be listening.
That One Girl

Don't forget me and I won't forget you.

WHY???

I'm sitting in a chair. I have no idea why I just created a blog. I have no idea what I am going to blog about. I guess I figured that every aspiring writer should have a blog. Therefore, I should have a blog. So, Welcome! You are reading the first entry of my blog. You are taking the first step of a journey, for that is what every peice of writing is: a journey. I'm excited to see what comes next!
-That One Girl

A journey of a thousand miles begins with one step.