by winter. » Thu Jan 31, 2013 6:50 am
CHAPTER 1
There are only two things of which I am sure: my name is Ivy Hale, and I have been running for as long as I can remember. However, that really isn’t that long.
A few days ago, I awoke to the sight of leaves glowing with the light of sunrise, their branches swaying gently in the wind. Where am !? I lifted my head and looked around. I was in a small clearing on the forest floor surrounded by nothing but untamed wilderness for miles. Glancing down, I saw that I was wearing only a nightgown, soiled with dirt: my feet were bare, yet clean. How did I get out here? I stood up shakily, my frail legs struggling to maintain balance. I stared at the vast forest around me and realized that I was utterly alone. Panic overtook me: I tried to shout for help, but to my shock … no sound came out. What happened to me? I laid down on the ground, overwhelmed with confusion and terror. I can’t just wait for help. I don’t think anyone knows where I am. I’ll starve to death before I’m rescued. And I’ve been running ever since.
. . . . .
Rocks dig into the soles of my feet, causing them to bleed. Branches whip my face as I speed through the forest. My stomach howls in hunger, but I ignore the pain. Only one thought is on my mind, or perhaps, one image: a boy’s face. I don’t know who he is, but I know that he is what I’m looking for. It is then when I start to wonder: How long have I been running? Where am I going? When will I get there? But then I stop. I don’t know the answers to these questions, and it won’t do any good to keep wondering.
A few hours later, I pass by a small pond. Only then do I realize the burning in my throat. So thirsty. I stop and kneel down at the pond’s side, cupping my hands and bringing the water to my lips. It is murky and brown, but I could care less: it’s something. I drink until my thirst is quenched, then I rise to my feet. I can’t rest now. I have to find him. Looking down at the pond, I realize something else: I can’t remember what I look like. I try to find a reflection on the water’s surface, but there is only a shadow.
. . . . .
I am running, when without warning, my legs collapse on the ground, my head throbbing with a pain so intense I can’t see, think, or hear. A scream tries to come out, but all that results is a raspy sigh. Black spots cloud my vision. Suddenly, a bright light appears, but it dims as the memory focuses. White walls surround me on all sides. I am wearing the same nightgown, but it is clean and new. I look down to see my wrists strapped to the operating table; I struggle but it is no use. I scream as loud as I can, thrashing violently. A woman in a white coat runs into the room, holding a syringe. She stabs it into my arm and pushes the plunger. I begin to fade, but not before I hear her whisper into my ear: “Don’t worry. You won’t be screaming much longer.”
As soon as the flashback stops, the pain begins to dwindle and my senses return. What was that? I stand back up and look at the sky: the sun is just beginning to set. I try to forget what has just happened and occupy myself with finding a place to sleep for the night. What if there are wolves? I need to get above ground. I glance around at the trees, and one in particular catches my attention. Its trunk is gnarled, with many knobs: easy to climb. I walk up to it, and grab one of the knots, pulling myself up onto its lowest branch. I climb up slowly and carefully, branch after branch, until I’m about 20 feet in the air. I hope I don’t roll in my sleep. I’m so exhausted after days without rest that I nod off almost immediately.
. . . . .
I slam my locker shut, in a hurry to get my next class. As I make my way across campus, I see him. He waves at me, smiling as he passes me by. “Hey, Ivy!” I feel myself smile back; I even blush a bit. I look down at the ground, books in my arms, praying that he didn’t notice.
My eyes flutter open to the sight of sunlight being filtered through the leaves. I am momentarily shocked by my surroundings until I remember where I am. I wish I hadn’t woken up. That was such a good dream. I begin to think about the dream and realize that it was actually a memory. Did I love him? Do I still? I lay in the tree, staring into the clouds: a warm feeling running through me. I see his face in my mind and smile.
Last edited by
winter. on Thu Feb 14, 2013 3:24 am, edited 5 times in total.
