She and Her Dark

She and Her Dark

A Story by Ray
"

She sat alone at her desk, and something quite unusual happened...

"

It was unlike anything she had felt before. She sat without a gesture at her desk, shown only by a faint, golden candle light. The letter she held so tightly between her thin fingers fell between her hands. She looked through the shallow water of her glass. The rim of it looked white instead of clear.  There was no reflection in the small pool of liquid. There was no smile on her melancholic face. Her heart had given way.

He is never gone. It shan’t be true this letter after all. No ! It shan’t be true ! She cried it down the dark tunnels of thought. Her face was torn in pain, though it semained straight. Chills ran along her spine and naked legs, the skirt around her thighs seemed frozen. She was alone in the darkness. There was nothing else around her. The stars in the sky had been blown out by some foul breath, the bed and all the furniture had been engulfed by the darkness. The candle, the desk and the chair she sat on were with her. She hit the table, though her hand never left her lap. She teared at her hair, and yet, she was unmoving, as a statue, looking at the blackness surrounding her. The night around her made her  breath come quick and sharp. She shook, with no apparent movement of the limbs. The night was on her.

Yes, alone you are, and shall be. Why do you shrink away ? I am no stranger to you.

Get away, she screamed to the sweet velvety voice. Get away with you !

Anger flushed her face, and still, it was pale and expressionless. Her eyes darted from side to side in a frantic manner but on the candle burning slowly down it remained.

Alone and afraid ?

I am not alone, he shall come. I know he will. The darkness took her comfortingly in her arms, as a friend.

Why do you torment yourself ? The answers to the questions you ask are in the letter. Did you not see ? There is no reason to seek another place to satisfy yourself. There is only you and me in this abominable place.

Get away ! Leave me be, go away. I need you not. Why don’t you go away ?

She glared and she cried, she slapped and all the time remained rigid and cold. Her eyes threaten to give black. They swelled with tears and burned. The small pearls slowly trailed down the white cheeks and fell on the smooth wooden surface of the desk. They seemed to be as one, and expanded in their own time. The small nails dug into the flat surface and wooden chips darted to the sides. The pale skinned hands tensed with great effort, the contracting muscles clearly visible underneath the transparent veil.

What good would leaving you alone do ? You need a friend. The loving arms tightened the grip around her. All sense had left her body, and the motion would never come again. Suddenly, she picked up the letter and crumpled it in a violent manner then threw it into the darkness.

I tell you this, he shall come ! I shan’t ever need you. Go away ! Never come again ! GO AWAY ! She screamed and shouted, lightning flashing in her eyes, nonetheless, her lips remained tightly shut, and her eyes quite dull. She ran a weak hand through her curled brown hair and sighed through pink, healthy lips.

You can scream and you can shout, but I shall never leave, no one commands me. The darkness was irritable, the tone of it was unmistakable. She continued within the tunnel, thinking she was on her own. She looked at the end and saw a green spark. How bright it looked. As she skipped toward it in great anticipation, she was abruptly stopped. It seemed as though vines had caught her ankles, and that even if she would move, she could not go further down.

I command you, a laugh echoed down the tunnel to her. Agony was poignant.

Let me to the end of the tunnel and I shall accept you. Let me be I say once more. Her eyebrows were raised in helplessness.

Under the bureau, her legs crossed and she bent down to pick up the letter again. It was all brittle. Cautiously and gently, she flattened it in front of her, her face still impenetrable.

Read it. Read it once more.

She looked over the words in what she knew was vain hope. She feared that her eyesight would become blurry once more. She fiddled with the ring around her finger a moment before reading the ink carefully.

Never shall I let you. If you go there, you will live in this world.

And there is nothing better.

You think there be nothing finer, in fact, you are going within a trap.

YOU ARE MY TRAP ! I COMMAND YOU !

The silence was deafening. A flash of colors bloomed around her and disappeared to leave only hints of them on the dark tunnel walls.

Here is what the letter read :

 

Dear M./Mrs./Miss

 

     We are obliged to you in these difficult times pronouncing M. Hans Freisherner’s death.

 

     Name(s) : Martin, Hans

     Last Name : Freisherner

     Date of Birth : 25 Oct 1923

     Date of Death : 31 Oct 1943

     Rank : Air Force

 

The body of the named above will be sent to the reveiver of this letter.

 

Yours truthfully

 

     Colonel

 

Why must I repeat so many times : you and I are alone.

No, no. You are mistaken. He is coming home. You don’t understand, you never live, you never see, you never feel. Therefore you do not know, you acursed being. He promised, and he never lied, do you understand now ? can you ever, understand ?

She shook her head, wobbling uncertainly near the end of the tunnel. The spark of green had become great entrance, with wonderful trees on the other side. Her head spun in endless circles. She was lost and yet it was right there what she was searching for. She felt it, she knew it.

It is just you and I. The sound of the words seemed faded away, all was becoming blurry and clear.

She rested her head in her hands. She had hoped to find some mistake, something in the letter that could persuade her otherwise. Glass exploded, and sharp pieces of it lodged in her skin.

You’re alone with me. The words were low and dangerous. She cringed in pain, but sat senseless. Something trickled along her legs and arms, something thick and viscous.

Leave me be, she sighed weakly. Her eyes were constantly staring, looking at nothing, seeing nothing but a green park. She reached out a hand for the soft touch of leaves, and found that she could not feel the green color. Her fingers passed right through.

Come back with me, turn around to me. The flame of the candle swayed and fell on its side. The wood was aglow and shining. She could only stare and could not screamed, her lips pinched together.

She turned slowly around in the darkness. Something in the pit of her stomach turned and she looked back at the way she had come. And there, more than she could have imagined was a pale figure, giving out his hand and whipped out of the air, into tiny particles of nothing going to nothing. There was nothing anymore down the tunnel but for darkness.

You are not there, she said.

The flames lapped at her face and burned. To her it was soothing the pain. Still at her desk which was now ablaze, she was without arms of legs. Sitting there without any  use for them.

She was attracted by the darkness of the tunnel, or rather, pulled by it. She looked hesitant.

Come with me. We are alone together.

She turned to the green and wanted to move toward it but found she could not.

Hans ! Help me ! She cried with all the tears left in her body. She tried to fade away from this unsanely grip.

You are alone with me. A friend I am only. You are alone with me.

She bent towards the warm fire, her whole body wreathing in it. With contempt, she closed her eyes finally, and inhaled as her rigid self relaxed in the fire’s hold.

Get away with you, she told the dark. Get away with you.

© 2011 Ray


Author's Note

Ray
If there is spelling mistakes feel free about it, but I really would like feed back on the story itself and what you think about it, and what could make it better. Thanks !

My Review

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Featured Review

Wow. That was mind-blowing. The scene was just an internal battle, but you made it sound so intense and so heavy. Your descriptions are brilliant. You included even the smallest details and you carefully chose the words to thoroughly describe every thought and every feeling. The story was dark and interesting. Just an observation though, I think there were some parts in the first half of the story that were kind of repetitive. And so there was this feeling that you were delaying the climax or the peak of the plot. I just had that feeling. But it can also be a strategy to build up the tension and intensity of the story. I'm not really sure, but either way, this was beautiful. Great write. :)

Posted 12 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.




Reviews

Wow. That was mind-blowing. The scene was just an internal battle, but you made it sound so intense and so heavy. Your descriptions are brilliant. You included even the smallest details and you carefully chose the words to thoroughly describe every thought and every feeling. The story was dark and interesting. Just an observation though, I think there were some parts in the first half of the story that were kind of repetitive. And so there was this feeling that you were delaying the climax or the peak of the plot. I just had that feeling. But it can also be a strategy to build up the tension and intensity of the story. I'm not really sure, but either way, this was beautiful. Great write. :)

Posted 12 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

Interesting and unusual story, nice use of tension throughout.

Posted 12 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

story is well written , and have not seen one on the UK side of the world war...very good and emotional..feel her feelings and almost paranoid trance state...

Posted 12 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

such a deep pain your description conveys...darkness is always heavy and cold when having to face pain on your own...nicely done!

Posted 12 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.


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Added on November 7, 2011
Last Updated on November 7, 2011

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Ray
Ray

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"Let us remember: one book, one pen, one child, and one teacher can change the world." - Malala Yousafzai "To hold a pen is to be at war." - Voltaire "The pen is mightier than the sword." - E.. more..

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