The girl who ran from ghosts
There once was a girl who ran from the ghosts of her past. The ghosts harried her as she ran as fast as she could in what ever direction offered the least resistance. They clung in her hair and whispered fears of terrors past. They grasped her ears whispering her deepest fears as truths.
She ran until her legs gave out and the path choked off to a thicket. There surrounded by the ancient trees she collapsed, her body unwilling to carry her farther. The ghosts swarmed. They licked her ears with lies. They pounded her heart with doubts. They showed her visions of her failures until her skin felt as heavy as stone.
Slowly she ran deeper into herself, her legs unable to flee so her mind took flight withdrew and built a wall of stone from her skin. Twisted her heart until the beat of it seemed as distant and cold as the moon. Farther away she retreated to the deepest reaches of her thoughts and became stone.
Alone and bleak a human figure crouched in exhaustion. The ghosts swirled and twirled about her as leaves before a storm. Whispering her fears to her as truths. Her nightmares as rewards. For a long time the girl remained in her prison. So long she forgot the feeling of sunlight on her face. Wind on her skin. The ghosts still danced around her sliding past her awareness like a cool breeze. She slowly unfurled her thoughts and reached out to the sensation. The slip of fingers on marble, distant, cool but tenable. slowly she reached out beyond the ghosts to the wind. The real wind moving through the near by thicket and bringing the smells of clean green things. The ghosts whispers rose and she reached out to pluck the smallest one from her mind merging the whispers with the sounds of the wind sighing in the trees. Slowly, painstakingly, the ghosts were harvested one by one and she twined them into the wind. The tone of whispers and sighs all becoming something new and lovely. An ache with the promise of clean green things to come.
As the last ghost was plucked she slowly began to feel the sun slip across her shoulders, warming her skin. The breeze pulling gently at her hair. The sensations startled her, scared her. So overwhelming after the cool distance of stone. The whispers and sighs pulled around her like a gentle current urging her to slide, slip, sway. No longer stone, she reached out to the sensation of her sun warmed skin. The ghosts slid beneath her skin and became a silent armour of lessons learned and fears conquered. Lightly made of light, she stood. She slowly walked into the woods in her armour made of ghosts listening to the secret promise of clean green things.
Slowly she ran deeper into herself, her legs unable to flee so her mind took flight withdrew and built a wall of stone from her skin. Twisted her heart until the beat of it seemed as distant and cold as the moon. Farther away she retreated to the deepest reaches of her thoughts and became stone.
Alone and bleak a human figure crouched in exhaustion. The ghosts swirled and twirled about her as leaves before a storm. Whispering her fears to her as truths. Her nightmares as rewards. For a long time the girl remained in her prison. So long she forgot the feeling of sunlight on her face. Wind on her skin. The ghosts still danced around her sliding past her awareness like a cool breeze. She slowly unfurled her thoughts and reached out to the sensation. The slip of fingers on marble, distant, cool but tenable. slowly she reached out beyond the ghosts to the wind. The real wind moving through the near by thicket and bringing the smells of clean green things. The ghosts whispers rose and she reached out to pluck the smallest one from her mind merging the whispers with the sounds of the wind sighing in the trees. Slowly, painstakingly, the ghosts were harvested one by one and she twined them into the wind. The tone of whispers and sighs all becoming something new and lovely. An ache with the promise of clean green things to come.
As the last ghost was plucked she slowly began to feel the sun slip across her shoulders, warming her skin. The breeze pulling gently at her hair. The sensations startled her, scared her. So overwhelming after the cool distance of stone. The whispers and sighs pulled around her like a gentle current urging her to slide, slip, sway. No longer stone, she reached out to the sensation of her sun warmed skin. The ghosts slid beneath her skin and became a silent armour of lessons learned and fears conquered. Lightly made of light, she stood. She slowly walked into the woods in her armour made of ghosts listening to the secret promise of clean green things.
Powerful!
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