literature

Swinging in the Breeze

Deviation Actions

hiddenbywords's avatar
Published:
202 Views

Literature Text

The soft breeze of a thousand whispers murmured softly, crooning gently into my ears, dissolving with the whoosh of wind. Sunlight shone down in vivid pillars through the clouds, dancing across my sun warmed skin. Leaves blew wildly around the hopelessly carousel, setting it off in a lopsided spin that grew faster as the leaves danced around it when I would swing forward on the rusted swing set, all the problems of the world melting away around me, like ice warmed in the high-noon sun. The exhilarating rush of my petite body leaving the ground towards the sky flew through me, leaving me in blissful peace.

My eyes opened for the briefest moment, the grazing touch of cool linked metal going slack as I reached the height of the top bars. The sunlight glinted in my vision, a contented smile painting across my face, my arm stretching out in front of me, relinquishing its grip on the links of thick rubber lined chains, though the rubber had worn off years ago, leaving mottled patches of rubber creeping down the chain. As the swing fell lower, I attempted to clutch my tiny hand around the glowing sphere of warmth and light. When the swing finally reached equal ground and swinging backwards, the miniature squall of foliage were rocking the graffiti laden carousel violently, peaking to a ferocious crescendo of the whirling hurricane.

The swings slowed as I ceased pushing in favor of watching the carousel in vague curiosity, as to what was causing the violent tumult.

I sat, my legs dangling over the sandpit beneath the swing set, watching calmly,although albeit curious and alarmed at the momentum of the dust devil of leaves.

The auburn golden and cinnamon peppered leaves abruptly ceased, floating mesmerizingly in the mid-autumn air, crackling sentiently around the leaves, crinkling and collapsing in on itself, then combusting into pale bone dry dust. The dust conglomerated together, turning tenebrous as it convulsed, attempting to find a form. The mixture turned liquidus, sliding violently against itself, smoothing and sculpting into a a thin willowy form, a woman's. A heavy linen dress of the darkest tones of black pooled around her feet, disintegrating into a thick swirling fog. The neck was high and bunched together into crisp ruffles, dipping downward towards a black glittering obsidian broach in the shape of a scarab beetle. The woman wore a wide brimmed velvet hat with a fine mesh veil decorated with delicate black roses and sharp lotuses.

She stood ram rod straight on the rapidly decaying grass, her head held low and the large hat looming over her face. One of her white silk gloved hands were clasped delicately, around a rather large parasol decorated with vines of ivy and roses.

The swing had stopped, my eyes wide and apprehensive toward the, haunting, yet oddly comforting, woman.

The strange lady glided across the semi-alive turf, the grass dying instantaneously as soon as the woman came within three feet radius. The mist around her slid in sync with the rustling fabric of her dress. The woman stopped in front of me, kneeling in front of me. She slowly lifted her head, leaving a sight to be less than desired. Her face was a blank mask, absolutely absent of any distinct features what so ever. It was a pearly golden color, shining with a luster that could only be described as plastic, like a cheap Halloween mask.

The hand free from the large parasol reached out, gently laying her glove clad hand on my shoulder.

A voice filtered out from behind the mask, it sounded like hands sifting through brittle ashes, or finger nails being dragged across dry bone, "Child... It is not your time."

Her arm moved down to my wrist and clasped her hand around it, tugging me off the rubber seat of the swings. She held my hand in her soft grasp, leading me to the opposite side of the play ground and coaxing me to sit down on the rickety carousel. As I sat down next to her, I gazed back longingly at the aged swing set.

She faced towards me, holding a firm maternal grasp on my shoulder, "Watch child..."

The scene played out in horrid slow motion in my mind; a black and silver volvo crashed through the parks wooden gates, speeding perilously fast towards the swingset and connected with a violent crack and shatter of glass and metal. I flinched at the ear splitting shriek.

I opened my eyes to be met by an unrealistic sight; a metal bar of the swing set was twisted at an odd angle, piercing the automoblie, only to exit through the driver's side of the roof, smoother in dripping with blood.

The lady looked down, "You are but six years old child. I am saying it is not your time, you are meant for so much more."

I looked back up at her in shock, shaking my head and building the courage, "Mam... May I ask what your name is?"

She looked down at me for a moment, she reached her hand up and placed it on her mask and removed the plastic shell. A bleach white skill stared down at me, a turbulent silver fire crackling in her eyes, "My name... Is Lady Mordred."

With that, she dissolved back into leaf dust, leaving me sitting shell shocked alone on the creaking my carousel with the image of the mans screams and moans of agony playing in my head, in the very same spot I was swinging in moments ago.
Wrote this a while back, had that in my head for days. It drove me crazy to the point where I wrote it in about two hours during my math and science class
~LessThanThree123
© 2012 - 2024 hiddenbywords
Comments0
Join the community to add your comment. Already a deviant? Log In