Reflection

Jessica Standfield
B4
Reflection

         The way she moves has me believing she’s floating on air, gliding over the ground, almost ghost-like. Her back remains towards me and I can barely be sure that she’s conscious of my presence. Occasionally I notice small pauses in her movements and I see her face turn slightly to the side, as if to assure herself of my boundless devotion, but that’s the only glimpse I catch of her. As I follow slowly behind I begin to notice the way the long black dress frames her body, it remains tight around her shoulders then flows to the bottom of her heel. The contrast of her pale skin against the black fabric has my head spinning. Her dark black curls seem to pay compliment to her gothic attire that remains completely void of all color.
         I long to see her face, the desire burns deep inside of me. I can’t explain why, but the urge is like an addiction, poisoning my blood stream until I have no choice but to give in. As if my thoughts were made known to her she stops mid-motion and slowly turns to face me. The moment she is in view she vanishes without a trace. I immediately become panicked and desperately search for the woman in black. My eyes penetrate deeply into the forest, noting every detail of my surroundings, but she is nowhere to be found. I glance back to her original position, hoping to find her waiting there once more.
         The space remains empty and a bitter disappointment washes through me. Time seems to slow around me, becoming irrelevant, simply a complex idea in my strange new world. I sense a cold sift radiating towards me and my breathing increases in fear. I see the fog move through the air as I exhale into the breeze. The wind swipes at my hair, pulling it away from my ears. Once again I can sense her near me, I remain still but search for her with my other senses. No one is near me and I dwell utterly alone in the silence of the woods. A violent gust whispers to me a melody of words , the gravelly voice belongs to that of a women and even though no such woman stands within my sight I know that the voice belongs to her. The woman in black. The message repeatedly replays in my head, burning the words into my memory.          
         “Be careful what you dream of.”

~
         I slipped out the open doors leading to the back lawn. I didn’t bother shutting them fully in fear of someone discovering my abandonment of the dreary party. I red once more the fabric handkerchief resting in my hands. “Meet me at the back edge of the lawn before the sun sets on the horizon. –C.” My heart fluttered viciously against my rib cage, threatening to break through my skin.
         I scurried down the steps, lifting the corners of my dress up as the wind blew my petticoats up into the air. Once I reached the bottom of the stairs I slipped my shoes off and hide them in a secret corner I had discovered long ago as a child. My veins spiked with adrenaline as the soul of my foot brushed up against the cold grass. The once warm air was now crisp with the season change, turning the grass into a sea of ice. I dared a glance back to the awaiting party inside the ballroom, a strong sense of thrill and impropriety flowed through my bloodstream. If they only knew what I was doing…
         I darted briskly across the grass, moving with a ballerina-like grace on my tiptoes. Once I arrived at the boundary of the forest I slowed to hesitant strut, becoming lost in the mystery of the darkness. “Charles?” I whispered into the night, awaiting a response. “Charles!” I called once more, beginning to give up hope that he was actually out there. I turned back, trudging once again to the mansion feeling defeated and taken advantage of.
         A twig snapped behind me and I circled around in hopes of discovering the culprit. “Is anyone there?” I questioned, my voice quivering with a paralyzed terror. An arm grabbed me from behind, covering my mouth to keep me from screaming. I started to kick and thrash my way out of the strangers arms, my attempted escape failing.
         The stranger twirled me around and I gazed into the face of my captor. “Charles! How could you? You know of how I scare!” I scolded, smacking my palm against his chest in chastisement. He laughed, pulling me deeper into his arms. He kissed my forehead and brushed his fingers gently through my hair. “Charles, we can’t, it’s not right.” Although I wanted nothing more then to stay this way forever, I had been raised as a proper young lady and those roots were difficult to dig up.
         “Who should care what the others may say? They know not of our affection. Let them discover our secret! For then we may finally be together,” he spoke confidently and it became obvious that he had given the subject much thought. His attempt to sway me towards his opinion took hold for a brief moment, but sense out-beat desire and I focused once again on my point.
         “If the court were to find out… the consequences for you would be too much to bare.”
         “I can handle the consequences, they are nothing compared to the thought of losing you.” He stared deep into my eyes, assuring me of our love and his devotion for me. My knees began to weaken and I swayed back and forth for a moment, but he held me steady, becoming my rock. I longed too believe his words to be true, but after abandoning the rules of society I had to hold on to the only sense I had left.
         “The more reason to keep our engagement a secret, they would not understand it and you know as well as I that anything they can not understand is punished and out casted.”  I looked toward the dirt ground, more then anything in the world I hated rejecting him. His pain was like a knife in my stomach, constantly being wrenched around in my viscera.
         He remained silent for several moments, but then took my hand in his and started to lead me deeper into the forest. His eyes remained seductive, yet he seemed to be slightly more distant then before. “Do not speak, just come with me.” His mood changed from lively and lovely to solemn in an instant. The sudden emotion transformation frightened me, yet I felt as if I had no choice but to dutifully follow behind him.
         I made several attempts at reviving the conversation, but he did nothing more then order me again to silence. The desolate sound of the forest was a foreign experience for me. From the moment I could walk I was taught how to fill hours of conversation, bring up appropriate subjects, please a crowed of any size and be the most proper young lady England had ever seen.
         Yet, while I had come to the realization that some girls had not been presented with the opportunities that I had taken for granted, none of my material possessions every seemed to fill me. My manners, my beauty, my wealth could never make up for the very prominent lack of love. Too some degree I had experienced maternal love as a child, but as I grew into a young women my parents became more of supervisors then protectors. Meeting Charles had been my miracle, he was the answer to my long and fervent prayers, and now that he was here I would never let him go.
         We paused just before a small ravine. He released his grip on my hand and paced several footsteps away. I refused to move toward him, fretting over the inch of mud pasted on the bottom of my best dress. My anger kindled as the night grew colder and he still would not speak to me.
         The moment I opened my mouth he began to speak. His voice was no louder then a whisper and I was unsure of what I was hearing. “Forgive me.”
         He seemed to pounce on me like a coiled panther, something silver flashed in his hands. A cold fear overcame me, things seemed to happen so quickly I could not grasp what was going on until it was too late. He landed only several inches away from me, grabbing my shoulder in a violent rage and slipping a small knife several millimeters away from my hip. 
         A small gasp escaped my lips and I seemed to fall forward towards his chest. He shoved me backwards roughly and I somersaulted down the ravine, the knife still lodged in my stomach. I smacked against a tree, the pain becoming too much for me to handle. I forced myself to subdue into a pain free world of relief buried deep within my subconscious.
~
         I awoke on a small patch of rough soil shaded by a full-grown Weeping Willow, I grabbed the base of the tree for support as I crawled onto my unsteady feet. The world seemed to tilt as I balanced myself on the roots of the tree and my head throbbed like a dull drum, although I was not able to remember why. A light breeze ruffled my loose dress, the white cotton rubbing up against my thigh. The wind shuffled through my hair, my light brown curls bouncing down my back.
         My confidence grew as I took a few small steps away from the tree, but once again I quickly felt defeated as I realized that I had no knowledge of my surroundings. In front of me lay a very thinly dispersed amount of trees; the vegetation didn’t block much of the scenery, but all I could see was more trees and open space. It seemed to go on forever, a never-ending mass of nothingness. I began to move in that general direction when a sound of small bells radiated from behind me.
         I moseyed my way around the tree, curious yet hesitant of what I would find waiting behind the mop of leaves. The bells rang again, although this time it seemed to sound more like high-pitched laughter then a melody of bells. I placed my hand on the thick trunk of the tree and peeked my head just around the corner. A small girl, no more then six or seven years old sat on a wooden swing attached to one of the low branches. She swung lightly back and forth, her feet digging into the rich earth. I wanted to approach the child, but settled for watching the girl from behind the tree.
         She didn’t seem to be aware of my presence around her, but I was glad that she wasn’t. I heard her hum a quiet and unfamiliar melody that painted images of bright and vibrant colors in my head; she had a lovely little voice, and even though I had not yet seen her face I envisioned a beautiful little girl that sat quietly on a wooden swing, deep in thought.
         The forest in the distance flashed in a blinding white light. When my vision finally returned I beheld the back patio of a large mansion sitting on the edge of a lake. The young child seemed to take no notice of the change, in fact she seemed to be perfectly at ease. The scenery complimented her perfectly, as if it was made specifically for her and her alone. I too began to feel more at home by the lake, the picture seemed to be more familiar, like it belonged in a deeply buried memory locked inside the safe of my mind.
         My attention was soon drawn to a younger women entering our little solitude. She seemed to be about thirty years of age, most likely the mother of the girl in my vision. She called to the child, but I could not hear the sound of her voice. The child quickly went to her mother, the two heading inside the limitations of the house. The young mother glanced sharply in my direction, but seemed to take no note of me. Her eyes pierced through my soul, although I seemed to remain as an invisible ghost.
         My invisibility and my new found deafness stirred me into an irreversible panic. I began to sprint towards the house. The wind grasping my dress and pulling it backwards, making it taut against my frame. The more I strived to reach the house the more distant it became. My body seemed to move in an exhausted motion, my feet refusing to run fast enough to reach my desired location. Time appeared to drop out around me, just a never-ending loophole that I would never escape.
I pushed myself harder then ever before, my breathing coming in short shallow gasps and my muscles burning with the increased strain. I came across a thick border of pink lilies lining the lawn, almost in the way that a moat would separate a castle from the village around it. I took three quick jumps back and coiled in preparation, I sprung in a swift movement, leaping gracefully over the flowers. Time seemed to stop while I remained suspended in mid-motion over the little garden. The world flashed white again, this time an unbearable screeching accompanying the blinding light.
         I landed on the edge of an enclosed pier as dusk over fell the gloomy scene. Surprise and a pinch of fear washed through me, I spun around searching for the unknown little girl that was nowhere to be found. I took a step in one direction, then the other, confused and unsure of where to go. Several minutes passed and tears began to fill my eyes as I realized how serious my situation was. I stepped to the right and continued that way, a few yards off lay a small boathouse with no apparent door or window. The little building was wrapped around a narrow strip of boardwalk, barely enough room for one person to navigate comfortably.
         I fearlessly turned one of the corners and jumped back in surprise. In the middle of the dock stood a young couple holding hands and looking somber. My less then quiet entrance into the private moment was not noticed and they continued as if I wasn’t watching them. The girl was facing away from me and from the few glimpses I caught of the young man he appeared to be very proper and handsome. His face could not hold my attention for long and I soon moved on to study the lady.
         I did everything in my power to catch a sight of her face, but my every attempt was somehow eluded and I settled to watch their interaction. I took quiet notes of the man’s behavior, the way he looked at her, his facial expression, the soft hints of emotions behind the mask his eyes held like an armor. Several minutes of this went on and I deduced that he was deeply and truly in love with the women before him. I could also see that he was very hesitant, maybe afraid or anxious of getting hurt.
         My conclusion well pleased me and I partook of the act only as an outside viewer. I remained smug by the boathouse, sitting on the rickety and damp surface of the wood. As a child I had often been told that I could read people rather well and had increased my ability by practicing on the people closest too me. I would spend hours deciphering the troubles of my mother and trying to break through the camouflage my father wore over his heart. But all too soon this became an easy task, nothing more to challenge me. My parents had been very shallow people in that day and even more so as the years passed; yet I couldn’t help but be disappointed when I broke through their protections and discovered little more then I had already seen.
         People in town were just as exciting, they never held the depth that I had been searching for and my peers had nothing more to them then the desires of a child. I finally found the long-lived subject of my search in our seventh housekeeper. Her name was Ramona, she was Native American and the most beautiful woman I had every seen. I spend months of my time with her, talking with her, examine her, all the while I studied and studied harder then I ever had before. The moment I settled on an answer about who this woman was and what she felt she would do something little to surprise me, leaving me completely answerless day after day.
         One day as I studied the way she dusted the furniture I finally mustered up the courage to reveal to her what I had been doing for the last several weeks.
         “Ramona,” I spoke, perfectly calm. In the past I had been afraid of what her response would be, but I had learned enough to know that she would not react badly.
         “Yes, my darling,” she answered, never taking a momentary break to speak to me. Originally this had bothered me, but not I saw that she was too hard of a worker to pause for anything or anyone.
         “You know I have been studying you, trying to figure out who you are.” I let the subject air out for a moment and waited for her response.
         She gave a light laugh while she worked, although she never stopped bustling about I felt her eyes linger on my back, which was an unusual occurrence for her. “Have you now. Well how have you faired?”
         “Not very fine. You always surprise me. Not like mother and father.”
         “Now Miss Clara, your parents are very amiable people, now you mind them.” She said nothing further on the subject, but I learned something very important about her character that day. The fact that she had never clarified anything about her suggested that she would rather remain a mystery, an invisible member of society then just another socialite.
         Since that day I had never tried to profile her again, I had simply let her be and had rarely ever used my talent, never on people that I knew personally, just strangers. But now sitting in the dark on the hard wood I dusted off my rusty gift and was perfectly happy to find it in a decent condition.
         The women was slightly more difficult to understand, especially with absolutely no insight into her eyes. I knew without a doubt that the boy loved her, but her love for him was prominently absent. It was obvious that she cared for him, but no such burning love existed. Her heart was not with him, but very far off, possibly with another man in a whole other life. I felt a slight sensation of guilt as I stealthily spied on the unsuspecting mismatched couple. I decided to give them one final glance before settling in for the night. I had been so focused on the ground for the past several moments that I had forgotten to check on their standings.
         To my surprise I found the young man on one knee, a small black box decorated with a large diamond ring resting in his hand. She pressed one hand against her mouth and folded the under in front of her stomach. She shook her head heartily and I saw her profile for the first time. It wasn’t enough to properly judge her real beauty, but even with a stream of tears strolling down her face she was certainly stunning. The man hung his head in shame, arose and quickly ran in the opposite direction.
         She watched him leave, sunk to the ground, buried her head in her hands and sobbed. I began to feel very uncomfortable watching her break down. I leaped up and backed away, still in her view; a board creaked beneath my feet and her head snapped up in acknowledgement of my company. I stood there just long enough to see a cold pain grow over here eyes before I scurried away. I tripped backwards over the watery rope. I braced myself for the watery welcome, but instead found myself clinging to a high branch of an Ash tree.
         I recognized this specific species of tree from my childhood, they had scattered them around the lawn and into the distant forest. I could remember several instances where I had spent hours nestling in their safety as a little girl, just staring at the sky and daydreaming of my escape from my proper prison. Although this was not one of those cases; the branch I happened to rest in was at least twenty feet from the ground with several large branches blocking a clear fall to the carpet of dirt. The next lowest limb was at least five feet below and I would be unable to reach it without the threat of one or two broken bones.
         I spent several minutes carefully weighing the pros and the cons of my plan to break out of the leafy prison. Caution had never been my strongest suit and now had been no different. I positioned myself to somewhat kneel on the thick board of wood, my knees and thighs scraped up against the rough bark, rows upon rows of small new scratches decorating my body. My grip on the branch seemed to be fairly strong so I let my legs drop our from underneath me. I dangled in mid-air, unable to reach the safety below or above me. 
         I had never been extremely brilliant, but I knew enough to figure out that I either had two choices. Option one, I could simply hang onto the branch with all my might until eventually I would slip or option two, I could let go and hope for the best. Optimism suited me more so I let my fingers go free and dropped into a hopeless free-fall. Miraculously I didn’t seem to feel anything as I bounced from branch to branch until I hit the solid ground, I realized luck did not happen to be on my side when I finally stopped rolling and the pain seemed emanate from every pour of my skin.
         I moaned, squirming around in the dirt, waiting for the vicious agony to relieve its self from my body. I couldn’t comprehend how much time could have possibly passed since my brainless plummet, but I had never felt more bliss then when the grief started to subside. I crawled up on my knees dragging myself into an open area of the forest. When I felt safe enough on my own feet I got up and staggered drunkenly to my death. Even with the high amount of adrenaline flowing through my veins it was not enough to give me any hope of surviving this. I had never imagined any one person could hurt this much, but now that I had I would never again question the power of pain.
         My energy was too focused on my never-ending torture that I tried desperately to move it to do something useful like studying my environment. The forest radiated with a white light, like something out of a dream, or a horror movie. Time refused to exist in this realm and the eeriness creeped over me like the inevitable darkness overtaking the light of day. My blood grew colder as I took each step, I could feel the twigs snapping beneath my feet, yet they made no sound and that frightened me.
         I continued to walk, never pausing for a slight rest, I didn’t feel the need to stop here. It was as if my subconscious existed, but in some sense my body was floating away in another realm. The space ahead of me was the most unusual I had ever seen in a forest, and the discrepancies drew me in like a spider with its web. She appeared out of nowhere, her feet hovering a centimeter or two above the topsoil. The woman was adorned in a fitted black dress that was sleeveless against her ghostly skin. Her black curls spiraled halfway down her back, she was a dark cloud in my broken world of silence, at first her appearance startled me, but after watching her she became beautiful in some sense. A blank angel, and the more I observed the more obvious her identity became.
         Maybe some part of the world I was in wanted me to discover who she was, because the hints became stronger until they screamed at me. The woman in black slowly turned towards me, and for the first time I viewed her face. I saw remorse, sorrow, anger and in her eyes was the deepest pool of pain I’d ever witnessed. The woman shut the doors to her soul for a brief moment, becoming the little girl on the swing and the lady on the dock. She switched identities back and forth several times, it was like watching someone’s complete growth process in ten seconds. I couldn’t be sure of a lot of things about the event, but I was positive that all three were the same woman.
         My once perfect memory of the little girl was now tainted with the knowledge of what she would become. Her face burned in the back of my mind, but instead of the soft light eyes I originally saw, evil was the only emotion she felt. I stumbled back in surprise, tripping against a loose root. The impact against my backside reminded me of the pain that returned whenever I moved any part of my body. Scampering up I devised a plan in my head, it was simple, and had worked for most people since the beginning of time. Run.
         Even mere seconds after my plan was executed into action my muscles began to burn. I had never really tested this theory, but now I understood what people meant when they said that injury was not the best thing for your body. On top of everything else the fall had permanently damaged my physical well being, I wanted nothing more then to lie in a field and just stare up at the sky, quite the opposite of what I was actually doing. Minutes passed and I wished myself dead, I considered the prospect of just letting her get to me, as it was I really wasn’t aware of what she wanted in the first place.
         I glanced over my shoulder as I ran over a smooth section of ground. It was not clear if she was following me because everything around me became a blur, meshing into one picture. My body seemed to forget that it was supposed to be moving and I stopped in the middle of a small stone path. My head was foggy, confused, and unsure of what was happening. I focused on the pathway behind me, searching for any sign of her approach. It did not take long before she came into view; she gained on me every second, coming closer and closer to where I rested. She glided through the air, determination lighting her face, while still maintaining a certain level of grace.
         Self-preservation kicked in and felt my legs swing out from under me, carrying me forward towards a large white mansion. The mansion was encircled by a fairly extensive yard, not many trees existed around the actual house, but a dense amount of forest enclosed the manor in somewhat of a dome shape, trapping the house and all who entered it. My will to live pushed up the steps and through the massive black doors. Once inside I expected to feel a small sensation of safety, but no such thing came and I remained alone and terrified in an old abandoned house.
         The front entrance was mainly barren with the exception of a grand double staircase spiraling from the second floor. The architecture was like that of a hallucination, exceptionally beautiful, but the lack of all color whatsoever transformed the house into a cage of empty space. I became absolutely mesmerized with the many peculiarities, moving through the rooms silently, almost like I was waiting for something to happen. As if my wish had been granted a sudden gust of wind pressed me into a corner of what most likely was a private dining room.
         The stream of air moved me with such force it felt similar to being pushed around by another person. The current them moved up my frozen body to my throat, it squeezed, chocking me with incredible strength. The air created a dust storm of dirt particles, incapacitating me even more. Hard, cold pale hands imprinted their shape into the hallow of my neck; the blood thumped in my ears, blocking out any other sound. I looked up into her pure black eyes, the gateway into her demonic soul. She simply stared back, not a hint of regret or concern. Once my vision started to fail she thrust back sharply, letting me slip to the floor.
         I gasped in deep quantities of air, glaring up from my tear-soaked eyelashes. I prepared to swipe at her, not willing to go down without taking her with me. She spoke just as I was preparing to lunge. “You won’t do it, you know. It’s not who you are.”
Her voice surprised me, it matched mine, exactly. My air supply was still not high enough for me to speak, but I had enough hatred in me to be stand up and rush towards her. Once I got close enough she shoved me back into the wall with one hand. Exerting none of her muscles in the process.
“It’s funny, I don’t know why you try. Weak, that’s what you are.” She decided. If I was weak, then she was bitter I thought. “Bitter? Maybe, it’s difficult to tell.” She read my thoughts like they were hers, she rummaged through my head, picking out the things she wished to use to her advantage.
“Who are you?” I sputtered viciously, demanding answers.
“I. Am. You. Well… a better version of you I should say.” She waited for my reaction, but I said nothing. The news surprised me, I wanted nothing more then to brush her off as mentally unstable and move on with everything, but I believed her. It had always been my deepest fear, that somewhere inside of me I was truly evil and now it seemed as if that fear was coming true.
I tried to justify and protect myself from her accusations, but nothing stuck. “I am nothing like you,” I whispered, staring at the floor, hoping to melt into a puddle of water or become invisible.
“Aren’t you though? I was you once, pathetic, good, stupid, but don’t worry, you’ll snap out of it real quick.” She seemed confident, her words made sense and I started to give in. Her language style shocked me for I had never heard that type of speaking before. “It’s okay, you don’t have to believe me right now, but you will. I’ll make sure of that.”
“I’m not you.” I insisted, my voice becoming stronger, picking up her words quickly and using them as my own.
She threw her head back in a rupture of laughter. “You think you’re strong now because you stood up for yourself. You’re nothing, and you never will be. Not unless you become me before we leave here.” I didn’t understand what she was trying to say, and I didn’t really think I wanted too. “You think this is real? News flash for you, we’re trapped inside our head, none of this is reality. This is the only way we could protect ourselves, we’re dying out there remember!” She shouted, becoming aggressively angry.
The recollections flashed through my head, I saw it all, felt it all as well. The swing, the dock, all of those things were pieces of my childhood, the last thing I remembered was the knife jarring  in my stomach. I curled over in pain, pushing at the point the knife had entered my body. I lifted up my dress to view the wound, it was a long deep gash, but it didn’t bleed; just another piece of proof that she was telling the truth.
I couldn’t help but to hyperventilate and curl up in the corner. Pulling my hands through my hair I heard her approach, pausing a foot from where I sat. “Now you see why I have to do this,” her voice became quiet and grew gentle. Déjà vu overpowered me as I saw something silver come out from behind her back. She had a clear shot to my stomach and took advantage of the opportunity while it presented itself, stabbing the exact position where my first gutting had taken place.
I screamed in pain, toppling over to lie on my back. All I could do was try to hold still and shut my mouth as I died in front of her. The pain wasn’t as bad as I had expected, it was almost a welcome change to the torture I had endured for however long I’d been trapped in my own mind. My breathing became labored, and I knew it was over. She kneeled over me, my pool of blood staining her black dress. She bent over to my ear, giving me her final set of instructions. “Do it for me.”
~
         I awoke with a sudden jolt in the middle of the forest, where Charles had stabbed me. I hesitated to move, thoroughly stunned to be alive. The night was dark and the air was cool against my skin, slivers of moonlight danced across the ground, creating small patterns against the dirt. The knife still held in my stomach, but none of the pain existed anymore. I was stronger now and I knew that. I sat up on my elbows, searching eagerly for Charles. He was bent over a brown bag ten yards from where I was dying, his face turned away from me. I knew what I needed to do.
         I swiftly dislodged the blade, positioning it carefully into my hands. I arose without a sound, moving like a ghost, moving the way she had. “Charles,” I sang into the wind, my voice carrying with a wispy tone to it, “Charles!”
         He whirled around quickly, but even wounded I happened to be quicker. I knocked the knife deeply into his stomach, giving him the same slash he had honored me with. I watched his face twist in pain as the knife sucked away his  life. I was careful to assure that this would stick and that I would get to watch him take his last breath. I could feel myself becoming more like her with every second that passed, it was exhilarating. She had been right, I was just like her, and I would never give that up. I took pleasure in watching him squirm, I had never been one too promote revenge, but nothing before this had ever felt sweeter. He gave in and dropped to the ground, and just like she had done to me I kneeled over his body and whispered in his ear.
         “I did this for her.”