Subconscious darkness

Her eyes were small, black beads. Dark circles rested ominously under her lids. Her face was pale, cherubic, but a definite weariness paled the soft rose of her cheeks. She sat, impossibly still, her back arched, her arms hugging her slender legs. She looked towards me, lifting her gaze from reflection. The expression on her face turned to a slight curiosity, her intense pupils rested on my own. She did not say anything. Suddenly, she smiled. I was shocked. Smiling didn’t seem to fit in with her troubled features. The smile, however, was sincere, and breathtaking. 1

“Hello.” 2

Her voice was charming, melodic. It didn’t show any of the obvious tiredness which lined her eyes. The tone was calm, relaxed.3

Then, again, she spoke.4

“Andria.” I looked at her, my eyebrows rising. How did she know my name? Though this shocked me, I could not bring myself to feel anger or resentment towards the girl. Her strange elegance was too hypnotizing. 5

Her lingering smile turned melancholic.6

“The leaves are changing colors.” Her tone betrayed a strange longing. I looked towards the trees spread in the grass. Gold and brown were now beginning to overtake the emerald green of summer leaves. 7

I nodded, but this fact didn’t disturb me. 8

“Summer will come again.” 9

“Perhaps… But winter is long and cold.” She looked gravely towards the gray clouds brooding in the sky. A slight breeze picked up around us. I felt a cool chill playing with the strands of my hair. 10

“Can you help me?” She looked expectantly towards me.11

I shrugged, and nodded. 12

She rose from her immobile stance. Soundlessly, she walked towards me. With no hesitation, she intertwined my hand with hers. Though her body looked pale and fragile, her hand was warm, welcoming. I followed her diligently, walking slowly, matching her peaceful pace. 13

We stopped, upon coming to a great, tall oak. Its leaves were whispering rhythmically in the wind. The girl sat down under its branches, sitting still once more. Her gaze turned to a small blue spot in the grass. 14

I gasped, cringing as I realized what it was. The small body of a bird was laying on the green, immobile. Its wing was tinted with red, sticking out in an unnatural position.15

“Andria.” The girl’s voice was now almost pleading. 16

“It still lives. Can you see it breathing?”17

Gulping down my disgust, I crouched by the tiny animal. I observed as its body slowly but surely moved, rising with each breath. I looked towards the girl. I was at loss, my lips turned into a frown. How could I help it now?18

“I cannot fix broken wings.” I shook my head, slight desperation overtaking me. The bird had no chance at life.19

The girl cocked her head to one side. Suddenly, it seemed the circles under her eyes became more pronounced. We remained in silence, her face in an obvious struggle. She did not waver from her firm gaze. 20

“Anyone can fix a broken wing.” I looked helplessly towards her. The cold was now beginning to bother me. I hugged my body tighter, trying to wrap myself in body heat. The chill only became more persistent. 21

The girl bent towards the tiny bird, holding it gently in her hands. A look of concentration burdened her child-like features. She rose, carefully, and turned away. I watched her as she walked from me. Her body was small, curved to protect the dying animal; her paces were even, inaudible. 22

I bit my lip, a strange grief creeping through my body. I almost felt panicked, restless, fearing for the somber future of the creature. I found myself alone, gently weeping as the breeze bit icily on my cheeks. 23

****24

A boisterous laugh woke me from my dream. I sat up, startled, but I recognized it was only the endless chatter of television in the other room. I relaxed, curling myself up on the mattress. I shuddered, looking to where the open window had filled the small room with cold air. The blinds thumped erratically, responding to the pull of the wind outside. I lay immobile for a long time. Weariness kept me on the bed, even if I wished the window could be closed. I felt the strength necessary to do so would be too much of a burden. 25