Revelation.

Revelation. 1

The dirt track down the side of the field was hard baked, horse shoe prints the only discernible mark left from days when the soil was less firm, he had walked this path many times before, but that was a long long time ago, in another life, the life when he was a child, when happiness filled his days and when he still had a value to others, to himself. He could still recall running down this same track, Tom, his 2

neighbour following close behind desperately trying to get to the opening to the woodlands which bordered one side of the farm road, before Adam, still at the gate had finished counting and started his search for his two, hopefully well hidden friends. It was in those energy filled days of youth when he, and his friends first discovered the lake, so well hidden from any of the few paths through the woods,they called it their secret lake, for there was no pathway, not even animal 3

tracks leading up to it, and it was their belief, not a soul in the world, other than themselves knew of it's existence. That was his destination now. 4

He soon found the entrance he was looking for, it appeared more over grown than ever and the path much narrower, this only confirmed the earlier idea that this would be the perfect location, he soon turned off the path and headed in the direction of the lake, he didn't know whether he recognised the place to turn off or whether it was pot luck, but he was surprised to find he soon found himself recognising distinctive trees and clearings, and with revitalised determination he 5

walked faster, the brambles and nettles he waded through offered no resistance, he could feel their canine shaped thorns biting into his legs through his jeans, but whether it was the vast amounts of alcohol, consumed last night still having an effect, or the pain-killers he had taken before he set off on his trip, he couldn't remember how many he had taken, which now stopped the pain as they gripped his skin. To Johnathon it was no longer important, all that mattered now was getting to the lake, and his intention once there. 6

He stopped, uncertain of his were abouts, looking for something, anything recognisable from his childhood, convinced he hadn't passed it, he continued in the same heading as before, and to his amazement he had only to walk another fifty or so paces, the small lake was hidden from view by heavily dense undergrowth. 7

Raising his knees high, to prevent the brambles from tripping him, he crossed the natural barrier and stood beside the secret lake of his childhood, and his final resting place. 8

The water was dark still filled with half rotten leafs giving it a dirty, gloomy appearance, but this was of no concern now, it just added to the suitability of the site. He drew a packet of cigarettes out of his top pocket and removed one from the 9

half empty box, he looked inside at the remaining eight and thought of the waste to bring them all here, he should have given them to somebody on his way here and let them enjoy them, now they will remain here unsmoked, rotting along with him and the leafs, no more would he be a hindrance to everybody else. He reached into his pocket of his jeans and withdrew his lighter, he flipped the lid of the zippo sparking 10

the flint in one swift movement, a little too swift, catching the back of his hand on a nearby bramble, again drawing blood but no pain, only an awareness was felt. 11

Raising the lighter to the cigarette end drawing in the smoke, he smiled at the memory of a long forgotten film, the famous last request cigarette before the firing squad punched holes in the smoke filled lungs. 12

He sat down on the remains of a tree stump, now more earth than wood, the damp soaking through the seat of his pants, but even in this there was no discomfort. Taking another long draw on the cigarette, perhapses too long, movement from 13

across the lake caught his eye and he tried to focus on the tree opposite. Johnathon rubbed his eyes, there must still be alcohol in his system mixing with the pain killers, he thought, his eyes although able to focus seemed slow. He closed his 14

eyes and let his head roll back to rest on his shoulders, his face catching the rays of the sun as they flashed through the leaf canopy over head. Slowly he brought his head forward, opened his eyes and drew on the cigarette for the last time, flicking the butt into the water, his eyes distracted from the floating dog-end by a passing bee, he blinked his eyes rapidly as he gazed in wonder as what he first thought to be a bee now appeared to turn into a dragonfly, it's metallic coloured skin catching the sunlight and glowed as if illuminated from within, he followed as it skimmed across the surface of the water, rapidly joined by others and dancing in strange patterns. 15

The woodland fell into a darker light as the sun slipped behind a passing cloud, and Johnathon took a deep breath, the dragonflies not only continued to glow without the suns direct light, but appeared to shine all the more brighter. 16

The dance across the water brought them over to where Johnathon now stood, as they drew close he realised just how much the toxins in his blood was affecting him, he was in a dream, at least his mind was, movement from across the 17

lake, where he had first thought he had seen something attracted his attention again, it was an old tree, Johnathon didn't know which kind, but he knew the bark was moving, images flicked across the trunk, images of people. 18

The brilliant light right before his face caused him to step back, catching his heel on the stump he had used to rest, and once again he sat down, this time much harder, although the wood was rotten and soft it was hard enough to bring pain to his backside. His stomach felt as if it was sinking through his body as the realisation hit him, the light-headiness caused by the tablets he had swallowed had gone, he was fully alert and under no influence at all, he closed his eyes, he had come here to commit suicide and the nervousness and combination of drink and drugs had broken 19

his mind. but that thought didn't stop the fairies wings from fluttering against his face as it touched his forehead, a calm rush through his body and he knew, knew this was not an hallucination, he opened his eyes again looked at the site on the pond, and he felt happy, happier than he had ever felt, he became aware of the purity of his body, as pure as the day he was born, he looked at the small triangular patches of blood on the back of his hand, now dry, he rubbed the thumb of his other hand over them, removing all traces of blood only to find unbroken skin underneath. 20

He would not commit the act which he came here to do, he looked back up from his hand to find he was on his own again, just the birds, gnats and the usual woodland wildlife for company, but now the animals and plants he looked at were 21

different, no; he was different, he pulled the cigarette packet out of his pocket, and crushed it in his hand and returned the litter back to the pocket, relaxed and enjoyed the scenery, enjoying life. 22

It was almost twilight when he decided to return home, he hoped he would be able to find the watercolour paint set he owned, he would spend the rest of his life drawing, painting and writing about the wonderful sight he had witnessed and hope he could bring the joy to others that he had found here, in his childhoods secret lake. 23

Johnathon would never see the fairies again, but he would never stop believing either. 24

ã Andrew A Hide 12~8~200225