Yeah... joke.
I have gone through this part of the story at least five times. It's still very rough... because I still don't know what's going to happen. I know. Sad. But I decided I should just post it and let you guys read it. I need help with plot and making the dialogue funny. My characters are painfully dramatic and it bugs the heck out of me. I feel like they should be a little happier. Anyway besides the point. Read. Enjoy... I know I fail at action writing, forgive me.
Sienna Part 1
The forest no matter how long I have lived in it, next to it or far from it holds a place of mystery. It doesn’t matter the years that I have wandered it I still feel its peace unsettling and unnerving and addicting. It was no different back then when I wandered it to escape the tidy village with its narrow roads and houses that were so tightly packed together that mothers wiped the noses of their neighbors children as often as their own, whether from an innate housewife instinct to keep their house clean or a case of mistaken identity I have still not reached a conclusion. In contrast, the forest was peaceful.
Not quiet, it teams with life. But unlike the orderly village you need to sit still long enough. Its noise seeps instead of bombards: bugs, birds, wind in the leaves, sometimes the thrump of deer galloping through the brush. It was much like my life was then peaceful full of unobtrusive noise.
Until something started to poke me in the face.
“Sienna… oh, Sienna…”
I jerked away from the offending finger and tried to sit up. Grass stuck to the left side of my face. I rubbed the strands off, feeling the rugged imprint they had left. I glared-- eyes narrowed against the sun-- at my best friend Hilari.
“I should’ve known you would be out here. Why don’t you come and play in the village every once in a while?” She was pouting, as usual.
Once I could stand the sun, I relaxed my eyes opening them slightly trying to get them moving and focused. I was buying time, thinking of how to explain without angering her. “Because the village is boring.” I stated simply, almost sighing, unable to convey all my thoughts and feelings.
Hilari grinned. “True.” She poked me with her foot. “Come on, sun’s going down. We need to head back.”
I didn’t move for a moment, partially because I didn’t trust my legs. They felt tingly from my thoughtlessly chosen sleeping position. I had the sinking feeling that if I tried to stand they would give out from under me. So instead I sat trying to remember what I had dreamed about.
“Sienna! Come on!” Hilari shouted impatiently. “Your mom will have my head if you aren’t right behind me!”
I sighed. I’m told I do it often.
As I trailed Hilari, I noticed my mother in the midst of the preparations for the night. Wordlessly Hiliari and I moved to help, we carried wood from the storage pile near the edge of our village and started to help build the bonfires that circled our area. The men closed up the wooden gates, sparse things. There were some nights, when the wind blew hard enough that I expected the entire fence to fall. But sure enough every morning they were still there, clinging to the logs that crossed over them. I always remembered to thank the gods on those mornings.
Abruptly my mother stood before me. “Sienna, pass that to Hilari,” she motioned to my load of wood. “I need your help with something else.” I obediently did as she asked and followed her deeper into the village, passing the bellows that still glowed slightly. We stopped outside of Old Agnus’ house. My mother turned on her heel and faced me, lips pursed and eyes solemn. I waited.
After a moment my mother spoke, softly and urgently, “Angus is dying, I need your help to make the passing easy. Do you think you can do that?” her eyes bored into mine. From the worry in her eyes and face, I knew that she wasn’t sure if I could handle it.
My mother often asked for my help, I knew her herbs and how she liked to keep her satchel but never had she asked me to help with a dying patient. She’d always gotten someone older. I bit my lip. I knew and loved Agnus, maybe she felt that a friendly face would help. I nodded once, steeling myself for the scene inside.
My mother let out a deep breath, her expression dark for a moment before opening the door.
The room smelled old but nice, full of my mother’s herbs. We moved to the cot and my mother directed with motions instead of words. She had trained me from the time I could walk and carry, so it was easy to interpret her meaning. I helped Agnus sit up and when I felt how light she was, I picked her up. My mother moved expertly to strip the cot of it’s mattress, it was soiled and needed changing, I was certainly relieved when she did that particular chore.
From what my mother had told me Agnus as been very brave and enduring. It made me smile in pride. Mother often said how hard it was to treat older people; they were angry and tired, sick of life, but Agnus had been pleasant, calm, and endearing. I had to blink tears away and ignore the deep aching I felt in my chest. Agnus had taught me how to sew, how to scour and tease wool, churn cream, cook, make soap, all the skills I would need to be of help to my mother.
I glanced over to my mother, memories flickering through my mind. One summer afternoon in particular, Angus and I were scrubbing clothes against the stones of the river.
“Agnus, why doesn’t mother wash with us?”
Agnus smiled. “She doesn’t like washing. Silly girl never had a desire to learn.”
I was a little taken aback by the comment. “Mother doesn’t know how to clean clothes?”
“Oh, she knows the theory, but the girl moves so slowly and complains that I ended up taking the chore for her.” I opened my mouth to ask more about my mother. She never spoke of her past if she could help it. Agnus splashed me gently. “No more of that today, darling, if you have questions ask your mother. It’s her responsibility to complete your education, not mine.”
I sighed and we moved on to more innocent matters.
“Sienna, I need you to move her.”
My mother’s gentle voice pulled me back to the present and I carried Agnus to a cushioned chair and gently set her in it. Arranging the precious feather cushions around her. When she was settled I went to help my mother. We stripped and cleaned, brought in a new mattress with fresh stuffing and readied the cot for Agnus again. It was simple work, nothing like the complex medicine my mother worked with daily.
I stopped and shuddered, a chill sweeping through the room. I turned to see the source.
Agnus was dying, her breaths were coming in shallow and quick. She seemed to sense it too, and croaked, “Mary, you must tell her.” The air she sucked in rattled in her lungs. “I-- have--” but whatever her last words were they were gone.
Agnus was dead.
As her spirit left, I realized how empty I felt, the aching had increased. I had loved Agnus, she had been like my grandmother. My mother came close and hugged me, trying to squeeze out the hurt. I buried my face into her, breathing in the spices and familiar wood scent that clung to her.
I should have asked her what Agnus meant. It was important and it was about me, I knew. I could see the fear in my mother’s expression but I didn’t care at the moment. I missed Agnus, the way her eyes had crinkled whenever I came to see her or when she called me ‘darling.’ I would never speak with her again, never see her, never laugh with her. Suddenly I was suffocating, pressed from all sides by the memories. I needed to get out of this room.
I ran out the door. If my mother called, I didn’t hear. My breaths were coming out in sobs and I was doing my best to hold them in, chest burning from the effort. I just needed to be alone.
“Sienna! Sienna, wait!” It was Hilari, but I couldn’t wait.
I slowed my pace, unconsciously picking my way through the trees. Just go away, Hilari! I was fuming, why was I so mad? I’m not an angry person. I’ve never had many reasons to raise my voice to anyone. There have been times when I was frustrated or hurt but this was rage. Pure fury at... at everything, everyone. The gods for letting her die, me for being helpless, Agnus for dying, Mom for being just as helpless as me when she should be able to do more, and at both of the old women for keeping things from me.
I’m not stupid. I had seen the hints, the looks that had passed between the two women. The cryptic and sometimes cutting words that they spat at each other. I sighed wearily, I didn’t even really want to know what the big secret was. Whatever it was, it was probably a stupid thing to keep from me. Why didn’t they trust me? Why did they try to hide things? Did they really have so little faith in me? Rage boiled inside of me. You can’t treat me like an adult one moment and then like a child the next. I thought angrily.
In a huff I sat and looked around me for the first time. From where I was I couldn’t see the village and there was only the light of the nearly full moon. The trees whispered and crackled around me. It filled me with apprehension. I’d never been in the forest at night. I closed my eyes and listened. These were different noises, the hoot of an owl and the snap of a twig.
My eyes snapped opened, I stretched them as wide as I could, trying to take in as much light as I could while I searched in the direction the noise had come. It had been a clean snap, not a groan or crackle of a tree. Someone or something...
I stood trembling remembering all of the stories my elders had told me from when I was young. A ghost? no... ghosts didn’t have feet, it could be a witch or a goblin, maybe an ogre... My mind was in jumbles, hurrying over each thought and unable to focus on one thing.
A second clear snap brought my attention to the trees.
A sinister atmosphere seemed to creep in around me, stifling me.
My breath quickened and I froze. I didn’t know what to do. Was there anything I could do? Should I hide? Furiously I searched for a suitable place and found a fallen trunk that looked like it might shelter me. Several more noises galvanized me into action and I dove down behind the trunk, ignoring the scrapes and hard jabs I received. I quieted my breath as best as I could and huddled as close to the wood as possible without making too much noise... I hoped.
Whatever it was came closer, making small noises here and there. It was too quiet. Whatever it was knew how to move and stalk, a new wave of fear and dread washed through me and I huddled closer, praying and hoping he wouldn’t see me.
A pair of shining golden eyes with pupils angular, like a cat’s, looked over the fallen trunk at me and I screamed.
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