Olive's Dream

• Georgia Jordan, Grade 11
• Short Story
• 2011

I recognised this place. Except it was too green to be my home. The last time I'd been here it had been dry and brown. I studied the massive expanse of water, rippling, yet calm. It stretched down further than the eye could see on both sides, though I could see the opposite bank not far in front of me. The lush, unnaturally green trees and bushes surrounding it swayed lightly in the non-existent breeze. As the thick darkness of night began it's descent, I witnessed a flash of white, gleaming, blinding light. As if someone had ripped a hole in the darkness. I was momentarily blinded. As my eyes adjusting to the sudden change, I gazed upward towards the strange light. I theorised it to be a small sun, that wandered down from the skies above. However, I could suddenly recognise the shape of this light, it was that of a person. I took a step towards this creature that seemed oh-so out of place. I advanced with wonder across my face, I could now see that this was a girl dressed in fine white linen, floating in mid-air above the sparkling lake. A beautifully crafted gold belt glimmered around her mid-section. Her porcelain skin was softly glowing, throwing pools of light on the water's surface. Strawberry blonde curls floated around her face, as if she were in fact under the sea. My eyes found her exquisite face, her delicate features smooth and beautiful. But there was something wrong, her face did not replicate the serenity of her body. Her eyes were white, overwhelmingly white. She appeared to be blind, but these eyes did not lack emotion. It was torture. Viewing these eyes was like watching someone die by fire. Not that I'd ever witnessed something of that horror. Her tortured stare shot into the distance, her petite mouth parted as if she were screaming. Her frozen body suspended above the ghostly lake.