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"A poem... not a story"

A story... not a poem  by OriginalSim

Mariah was startled from her trance. Not from the pain, but from seeing her reflection in the pond as she leaned over its edge. It was perfectly smooth and still, and she thought she could see every detail in her face.

She stared, not understanding, as her image in the perfect, mirror-like pond fragmented. It amazed her that a single teardrop could cause all that disruption. She watched the tiny ripples distort the reflected shape of her reddened eyes and nose. After that first tear came, all the others followed. Her reflection danced and shimmered and got all mixed in with the blue sky above, so that it seemed like her face was exploding and tiny blue flames were flickering all around the pieces of her face.  Perfect match to how she felt inside.

She fell backwards onto the grassy bank, tears streaming. Her breath seemed to be sucked out of her with every sob. The sound of her own sobs disgusted her and made her feel even worse. In a vicious cycle, that made her gasp more with each sob. Finally, the anger and pain grew so hot that, in order to end the crying, she just screamed.

The echoes of her howling bounced off the hills beyond the pond. They traveled down the gully between the hills and bounced all over the hollow stand of aspens. As she listened to the fragments of her voice echoing, she felt her soul breaking apart.

Her image had shattered and her voice had shattered: fragmented and infused into the countryside. Her soul had exploded, sending sharp jagged pieces of her essence slamming into trees and earth and water. She had dissolved into the surrounding area and suddenly felt a twinge of peacefulness.

She became aware of the birds chirping all around; heard the tiny splash of a frog jumping into the pond. The wind gently slid through the leaves of the trees and the tall grasses. Crickets made themselves heard and the water, pushed by the small breeze, gently lapped at her feet.

The knife must not have cut deep enough into her wrist. She didn't see much blood. But now she was too sleepy to try again...

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  'A story... not a poem' statistics: (click to read)
Date created: April 26, 2008
Date published: April 26, 2008
Comments: total 7
Tags:
Word Count: 427
Times Read: 168
Story Length: 2
Children Rank: 3.9/5.0 (3 votes)