fiction friday!

This particular piece is an imitation of a Kafka piece, A Dream. As I develop my own style, I find it very helpful to imitate those of great writers as a means of dissecting their structure. As Professor Rabb says, “Good writers borrow, great writers steal.” Let me know what you think!

The Girl with No Face // Fiction Friday, 2

Eliana George was dreaming:

There were no shadows in the circular meadow and Eliana was content to stay there. No sooner had she pressed her back into the cushioned earth than she heard a rustling from the tree line. The outlying trees were hauntingly high, casting only darkness through the tangle of leaves, yet she found herself standing erect and beginning to drift towards the woods, moved by her own feet.

From across the distance, she spotted the moving figure of a girl. The girl was running through the forest, winding effortlessly through the trunks. Eliana was drawn ahead, pushing herself forward, but feeling resistance in every muscle like she was running through an increasing pool of mud. Still, she kept her eyes on the long dark hair that flowed down the girl’s back, losing her at times in the tangle of trees; the roots were all but invisible, yet seemed to be grasping at Eliana’s ankles as she ran.

While her eyes fought the darkness, she suddenly came upon a river–the roots had relinquished and she nearly plunged into it. She hastily leaped into the reeds along the water’s edge. Since she’d so abruptly leapt from her path, she fell to her knees, and when she looked around the girl had vanished.

Her mother was there standing at the edge of the water, holding a warm towel; the moment Eliana arrived, her mother held the towel out to her, motioning her to come to her, but did not move towards her daughter herself. There came a rustling from the bushes, and Eliana immediately knew it was the girl.  She saw her running again, this time in the opposite direction; her feet skirted the ground; her hand trailed along the trees, making a glowing pathway as she moved away.

Eliana’s mother still stood waiting to embrace her daughter; Eliana looked toward the woman, she did not make to move her, but she did give the woman a small shake of her head, since she did not wish to hurt her, and began covering the distance between herself and the girl who was running steadily away. She careened after the girl, unable to call out to her to slow down. Only with the help of the illuminated path could she follow; the trees were glowing in the places the girl had traced her hand, embers cut deeply and cleanly into their surface, sparking here and there until they turned into real flame.

The flame swallowed the forest and threatened to swallow Eliana too as she fought against her resistant muscles. The edge of the cliff rose up suddenly, and she found herself flung to the ground, weighted down and unable to move or lift her head. After laying there for a moment with her nose into the ground, she looked back at the forest that was now engulfed in the flame and thought of her mother; she was eager to  know what had happened to her and the river that she  could no longer return to, she gazed at the edge of the flame, paying little attention to anything else around her. And in fact, as she was elsewhere in her mind, the girl had appeared at the edge of the cliff, walking towards her in slow but unencumbered movements, and Eliana caught the sight of the girl’s slim legs to her side.

This time, Eliana found herself unable to move closer to or further from the girl, and, as the girl walked slowly to Eliana, glided along, Eliana tried to look into the girl’s face but it was too high and she was already too close–indeed the girl was almost behind her now. Eliana felt a weight removed and flipped over. The girl was not behind her as she had thought, she must have gotten away; Eliana swiveled her head; she needed to see the girl’s face, for reasons which she could not understand.

To make matters worse, there was a sound of running that could not be heard in one, but all directions. Eliana covered her ears, and the noises stopped. She held her hands over her ears for an indefinite period of time, but when she removed them the sound of running was still surrounding her; now, though, it was very soft and soon broke off; it was as if the girl was truly gone.

Eliana was inconsolable with the loss; she began to sob into her open hands, surrounded by silence. It was infinite, the amount of time it took for the throbbing gash to turn into a slowly resigned burn of pain, and then, as though waiting for Eliana to stand from the jagged ground, the sounds of running started up again, louder than ever. Eliana registered the sound with relief that flooded her, and she managed to take in the full view of her surroundings, and with only slight trepidation, flew in a singular direction of her choice. The ground below turned into a blur, with no distinction between leaf or rock. She saw light shining through a clearing far away, only it became very large very quickly.

It was the meadow, the same one she had been in before when she had heard the girl running first, the very same place that she felt she could have lived in forever; but now the girl had taken her place in the center of the field, having stopped her fleeing.

At last, Eliana faced her; the girl turned to look at her and her face was long and flat, not a face at all but a sparkling mirror, so that they shared a face; the girl reached out to her as Eliana turned to run away in a startled fear; the girl grabbed her, holding her tightly as she propelled them closer to the canyon.  Eliana tried planting her feet firmly into the ground, while her mirrored self continued forward at full speed, and together they plummeted over the edge of the cliff as the ground rushed up to swallow them whole.

Enchanted by this feeling, Eliana woke up.

 

This is my intellectual property, please do not steal it. It is FICTION, most of the pieces I produce have very little to do with my real life, so please no assuming (you know what that gets us!). Thank you for reading, you beautiful people. 

Much Love,
Savannah 

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