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Redd wrote:
disclaimer: this is the first time ive written anything in a long time and this is the first time i have EVER finished anything so uh
yeah
also, its kind of dark.
As a man’s voice shouted from afar, the sun was shining hopeful beams onto Jamison’s sleeping face, tickling his eyelids in aide to woo him from slumber. It was his first full night of sleep in a long time, as he’d been having many nightmares. He took his time waking, drinking in the fresh air and the cool breeze on his thin forearms. As he finally rose from his cot, he realized it was father calling him from the courtyard.
“Jamison, I need you to run and get some water from the spring, it hasn’t rained in a few days and our buckets are empty! Our crops are going to die, son, get moving!” he heard through his window.
“Yes, papa!” Jamison replied, groggy. He stuffed his feet into his boots and pulled his long brown hair into a low ponytail. He made his way outside, swinging their water bucket back and forth by its handle. “Leaving now, papa,” he addressed his father, who nodded, said “Goodbye,” in response and wiped a bead of sweat from beneath his eye. What a hot day, Jamison thought.
His destination was a little over half of a mile into the woods from their courtyard, so it was a short trip out. The sun barely peeked through the thick leaves shading the forest, but illuminated the scenery still so perfectly. He smiled gleefully as he walked, taking in all of the smells and sounds he’d not gotten used to even after making this trek 2 to 3 times a week since he was a tot. Thanks to his many trips, the trail lay flat, so even on a dark night he could always find his way home.
The tree branches lining the lip of the narrow spring interlocked over the top, shielding it from the sun. His eyebrows furrowed and he froze as he noticed the water level was unusually low. Taking a few more steps, he frowned, dropping his bucket into the spring beneath him, his feet following suit.
What was normally beautifully glistening, filled to a 6 foot brim with water, was now barely coming up to his knees. The murky water sloshed with each step he took, as his confusion built upon itself.
“Please,” he heard a weak, raspy voice call to him from a direction he couldn’t quite pinpoint, “Please help me..”
“Wh- What? Who goes there? Why can’t I see you?” he turned his head in every direction, searching for the person who spoke.
“My beautiful spring,” the voice moaned, louder and more desperate, “It’s almost gone..”
“I.. I noticed that,” he replied, nervously backing up into the direction he’d entered from.
“Help me!” the voice wailed into his ear, filled with anguish. He was so startled that he threw himself forward into the spring. It was in that moment that Jamison lost control of his limbs. Though his body was only in less than 2 feet of water, he couldn’t manage to raise his head above it, and he began to struggle. He could throw his torso, hips and head in any direction, but his arms and legs were pinned to the floor of the spring beneath him by his joints. As his face just barely emerged from the water, it was yanked back down by his ponytail.
He began to panic now, sure of his demise, but a beautiful woman peered down at him from above the surface of the water. Her skin was mostly a periwinkle gray- but it was iridescent, he noticed. As the sun’s unusually bright light shone off of her shoulders, the surface ever shifting in color, she smiled down at him. Her waist-length platinum hair was damp, beautifully parted on one side and gathered to fall over her shoulder, the rest of the length landing in the surface of the water between them. It felt to him as though they were in two different worlds- hers was beauty and safety, and his was pain and blinding.
She smiled serenely, her eyes twinkling. “Thank you, so much for your help,” he heard, crisp as can be, despite his ears being submerged in water. Though her form vanished from above him, the hold on his body was steadfast. Although, he was no longer struggling. He closed his eyes, and let go.
“Jamison,” his father called for him, hours later, finally come to look for his son. “Jamison!” he repeated, growing more desperate each time he shouted. He stepped into the open space that housed the spring, tears stinging his eyes.
“I do apologize, papa,” Lydia purred, snaking her arms around his waist as she pressed her body into his back. Her hands ran themselves over his chest and down his torso until he jerked away.
“Where is my son?” he demanded.
“I needed a sacrifice. My spring was getting low, Gerald. You know this,” she said, smiling unapologetically.
“You said you wouldn’t take him until I could say goodbye!” he choked out, a tear slipping down his cheek.
Lydia the water nymph cackled. “You said goodbye when he left. A deal’s a deal..” she purred, disappearing into the night.
disclaimer: this is the first time ive written anything in a long time and this is the first time i have EVER finished anything so uh
yeah
also, its kind of dark.
As a man’s voice shouted from afar, the sun was shining hopeful beams onto Jamison’s sleeping face, tickling his eyelids in aide to woo him from slumber. It was his first full night of sleep in a long time, as he’d been having many nightmares. He took his time waking, drinking in the fresh air and the cool breeze on his thin forearms. As he finally rose from his cot, he realized it was father calling him from the courtyard.
“Jamison, I need you to run and get some water from the spring, it hasn’t rained in a few days and our buckets are empty! Our crops are going to die, son, get moving!” he heard through his window.
“Yes, papa!” Jamison replied, groggy. He stuffed his feet into his boots and pulled his long brown hair into a low ponytail. He made his way outside, swinging their water bucket back and forth by its handle. “Leaving now, papa,” he addressed his father, who nodded, said “Goodbye,” in response and wiped a bead of sweat from beneath his eye. What a hot day, Jamison thought.
His destination was a little over half of a mile into the woods from their courtyard, so it was a short trip out. The sun barely peeked through the thick leaves shading the forest, but illuminated the scenery still so perfectly. He smiled gleefully as he walked, taking in all of the smells and sounds he’d not gotten used to even after making this trek 2 to 3 times a week since he was a tot. Thanks to his many trips, the trail lay flat, so even on a dark night he could always find his way home.
The tree branches lining the lip of the narrow spring interlocked over the top, shielding it from the sun. His eyebrows furrowed and he froze as he noticed the water level was unusually low. Taking a few more steps, he frowned, dropping his bucket into the spring beneath him, his feet following suit.
What was normally beautifully glistening, filled to a 6 foot brim with water, was now barely coming up to his knees. The murky water sloshed with each step he took, as his confusion built upon itself.
“Please,” he heard a weak, raspy voice call to him from a direction he couldn’t quite pinpoint, “Please help me..”
“Wh- What? Who goes there? Why can’t I see you?” he turned his head in every direction, searching for the person who spoke.
“My beautiful spring,” the voice moaned, louder and more desperate, “It’s almost gone..”
“I.. I noticed that,” he replied, nervously backing up into the direction he’d entered from.
“Help me!” the voice wailed into his ear, filled with anguish. He was so startled that he threw himself forward into the spring. It was in that moment that Jamison lost control of his limbs. Though his body was only in less than 2 feet of water, he couldn’t manage to raise his head above it, and he began to struggle. He could throw his torso, hips and head in any direction, but his arms and legs were pinned to the floor of the spring beneath him by his joints. As his face just barely emerged from the water, it was yanked back down by his ponytail.
He began to panic now, sure of his demise, but a beautiful woman peered down at him from above the surface of the water. Her skin was mostly a periwinkle gray- but it was iridescent, he noticed. As the sun’s unusually bright light shone off of her shoulders, the surface ever shifting in color, she smiled down at him. Her waist-length platinum hair was damp, beautifully parted on one side and gathered to fall over her shoulder, the rest of the length landing in the surface of the water between them. It felt to him as though they were in two different worlds- hers was beauty and safety, and his was pain and blinding.
She smiled serenely, her eyes twinkling. “Thank you, so much for your help,” he heard, crisp as can be, despite his ears being submerged in water. Though her form vanished from above him, the hold on his body was steadfast. Although, he was no longer struggling. He closed his eyes, and let go.
“Jamison,” his father called for him, hours later, finally come to look for his son. “Jamison!” he repeated, growing more desperate each time he shouted. He stepped into the open space that housed the spring, tears stinging his eyes.
“I do apologize, papa,” Lydia purred, snaking her arms around his waist as she pressed her body into his back. Her hands ran themselves over his chest and down his torso until he jerked away.
“Where is my son?” he demanded.
“I needed a sacrifice. My spring was getting low, Gerald. You know this,” she said, smiling unapologetically.
“You said you wouldn’t take him until I could say goodbye!” he choked out, a tear slipping down his cheek.
Lydia the water nymph cackled. “You said goodbye when he left. A deal’s a deal..” she purred, disappearing into the night.
15
