Falling

• Briony Coward, Grade 9
• Short Story
• 2012

Pale silk swirled around my lissom figure as the wind’s taloned fingers caressed my flowing hair. Jewels hemmed the sleek garment and gleamed in the lunar luminesce. My bare feet scarcely made a sound on the smooth rocks. Rolling waves tenderly hugged the shore close below as my shining eyes scanned the inky horizon for the indication of sunrise.

Once, the world was a happy place. Once, people laughed and were free. Once, that was me, staring out to the sea, wondering what was beyond but Then he came.

His silhouette seemed out of place among the dense forest, unnatural, distinct but obscure. As he stepped forth from the starless shadows, the menacing, harsh light cascaded down upon its physiognomy revealing his mutated features. His eyes gleamed green and poisonous, imprisoning deadly malice behind the glassy surface. Horrifying, deep scars on his arms screamed piercingly as they leapt into view. He moved robotically, systematically, as he arched downwards in a constrained motion, steadily pulling a brilliant sword out from his robes, it’s blade glowing faintly in the silvery moonlight. The blade and the man seemed to be merged together, as one, by malice and hatred for everyone and everything retaining the will to live.

He lunged out with the sword and a searing welt meterialised on my arm. A volcano of ichor erupted from the wound as he drew the cunning blade around again, slicing deep into my exposed flesh. In a wild turn, I whipped around, my eyes scanning the impenetrable tree line for light. My desperate eyes focused on a faint glow and my legs began pumping like the pistons on a steam train.

The forest’s arms widened and I saw a jagged plain of rocks leading to an unforgiving cliff. I began my way across the deadly minefield, all the time feeling, sensing he was with me. I made one final leap and I was there, at the cliff edge. That’s when it struck me. This was where I first met him, where it all began and I now knew, where it must end. I turned to face him. His piercing green eyes bore into my soft brown ones. He drew his sword from his cloak once more and I struck. My delicate fingers scraped at his robes and managed to grip them. I allowed my eyelids to flutter closed and I remembered. Remembered the laughing and the crying. Remembered the flying and the falling. Remembered first words and last words before I hurdled both of us over the ledge to fall forever.