I need heavy critiques because I might be entering this into a contest. We shall see though.
Shall we begin?
--------------------
Tick Tock
twisting and turning
branches clawing for the sun
for reality
Spider webs were hanging from every corner, dangling and spiralling in different directions, beautifully intertwined. Crystals clung to them like morning dew, shining and glittering, the essence of derelict splendour. The dark cherry wood of the wardrobe was covered in a light layer of dust, undisturbed for all this time. The woods surrounding this clearing were calling out in song as I reached the familiar place; the rustle of the leaves, the scratching of the branches against each other, the gentle, soft melody of birds. They sounded as if they were welcoming me home. And there was the sunlight, balancing the world in a pale, warm light.
“To think I left you for this long, my love!” I called to the wardrobe, my voice sounding out of place according to the beauty that was demanded of this setting. But it did not faze me. I swung out my arms and started dancing in circles, singing along with the birds and skipping barefoot through the green grass. I was happy, unbearably happy, and my smile widened as I stopped and reached out for the door of the wardrobe.
But as I touched the handle, the world withered around me. The grass died, and birds’ song stopped. Every single leaf fell from the trees, and the sun was hidden by the clouds. The bare trees clawed at the sky above them, the wind blowing them, making them seem like twisted hands.
But the aspiration faded, and the sunlight and happy merriment soon returned. It was only a moment, it t'was but a second in which my faded, dream world had glimpsed into reality.
I laughed, and it echoed through the beautiful forest, the birds called out in response, butterflies flying as if they were dancing to my laughter. I turned to face the world around me, hair gently caressed by the wind, fingers lingering on the wooden handle of the wardrobe.
“To think I left this place, and never thought to return until now!”
And with that, I whisked the door of the wardrobe open, and the world faltered again for a moment. A naked dead corpse was stuffed inside; eyes open wide as if in horror, the large, deliberate cut across its throat, cold blood silently seeping out of it. The wind howled loudly as the corpse stared at me blindly; the branches of the trees twisting and turning wildly, but the smile still graced my lips.
I reached into the wardrobe and grabbed the cold, lifeless corpse and held it close, dancing wildly around with it in the clearing, kissing it on the cheek or lips every so often.
“To think I just left you here alone!”
My voice brought back the dream world, the sun shining once more in the sky, the leaves a brilliant green, the grass tickling at my ankles. And I was being whisked off my feet by a man, tall and dressed as a gentleman should. He smiled revealing perfect white teeth, and his blue eyes glittered in the light.
“My, you look beautiful, my love,” he said it tenderly as he tucked my hair behind my ear, and kissed my hand. But that only brought us back to our endless waltz. But this time, gentle music of the violin filled the clearing, riveting and beautiful, music like no other. And we danced. I loved being in his arms, feeling them hold me close, yet gently as if they were afraid to break me. I loved knowing that he was beside me as it always used to be, and I loved knowing that he would be no one else’s but mine.
“I missed you my dear,” I whispered in his ear.
“Aye, as I have missed you. The war was never as awful as it is now. But I believe it is near its end. We have broken the beaches if Normandy.”
“Ah! I am glad. You shall be home soon, home with me where you belong.”
“Whence I return, I will never leave your side, for you are the only woman I will ever love.”
Another change in setting, and he was no longer holding me in his arms. Instead, the rain started to fall, and he hung limply dead in mine. But I when looked up, my smile faded and I started to tremble. He stood there, a ghost of him, with another girl in his arms saying words but it was as if he was muted, the sound of his voice just wasn’t there. But I remembered the words. I knew the words in which he was saying. There was no way in which I could have forgotten them.
‘I don’t love you any more, Josephine. I am scared of you. It was a mistake, all a mistake. I am sorry. The papers will arrive tomorrow. Josephine, I hope you understand.’
The moment was over, and the gentle music from the violin continued once more, but we weren’t dancing anymore. He was sitting on a small blanket with a petite basket, this time in his military uniform. He patted the space beside him as if to gesture me to join him and I did, my feet shuffling heavily as if I was drugged. I kept glimpsing his ghost, and his silent words.
“Ah, there is something troubling you.”
“It is nothing.”
“It is something if it is preventing that beautiful smile of yours from returning.”
“It was but a moment, a dream in which I saw the horror of you leaving me.”
“I will never leave you, my love. Don’t think such nonsense.”
He reached into the small basket and pulled out a brilliant red apple and handed it to me and smiled, laughing lightly. “I knew how much you loved apples, so I brought a couple for you and me.”
“Oh, how sweet!” I called, grabbing the apple, smiling. He gestured for me to bite into it, which I did, but to my surprise it was rotten, the inside black. The world faded for a moment, making me see the dead body lying beside me. I didn’t want to see him. I didn’t want to see the evidence of what I had done. I turned briskly and closed my eyes wanting my world to return, my beautiful escape. And when I opened them, he was there with his brilliant smile again, but this time he was on his feet.
“I have to do some laundry, my Josephine. Would you wish to help me put them on the clothesline?”
I got to my feet and smiled, brushing the dirt in which may have gotten onto my yellow skirts, “I would be glad to.”
We both ambled to the ancient wardrobe in the middle of the clearing, holding each others hands, my head on his shoulder, and I felt the familiar happiness returning to me, and not this dreaded remorse. I couldn’t bring myself to open the door though; I didn’t think I would be able to take another one of the glimpses out of my world. At my hesitance to open the door, he only nodded his head and opened it briskly. Inside was a wicker clothes basket filled with random, damp garments. I released his hand so I could grab the basket and carry it to the clothes line. We turned lightly, and it was only then that I noticed he was humming, a gentle tune, but it was lovely.
Looking around the clearing, a small turning clothesline materialized as if from nothing, and I walked lightly over to the small stool at the end, opening the small box of clothes pins.
“You know, it is an exquisite day today,” he said, with a small smirk.
“As it is always being with you, James,” I felt myself saying as I pulled out a white dress shirt from the bundle and started to hang it accordingly on the line.
“Rather, it is always you who brightens my day to make it this exquisite.”
“I love you James,” I smiled as I hung a pair of breeches on the line, listening lightly to the bird song. “One day, we shall build a house here.”
“Aye and we shall have many children wandering around through the grass meadows as we have done.”
“It would be delightful, certainly.”
The smell of rotting flesh reached my nostrils and I shook my head, instinctively pulling my hand to my nose. But this time, I closed my eyes, knowing just what would happen. I knew I would see his dead body, see the long cut across his neck, and see his glazed eyes staring back at me hopelessly.
The gentle sound of ticking reached my ears, just as did the sound of rustling paper. It made me curious and I peeped open my one eye and saw the sombre forest once more, the grotesque trees, and the harsh wind. But it wasn’t that which caught my attention. The clothes line was still there, hanging in the wind’s mercy, but fastened to it were photographs, clips of how my life used to be. Pictures of me and James in love with each other, pictures of me on luxurious boats, and dressed in fine clothing for dinners. And hanging there was an old black clock, gently ticking away.
I stared at the clock, noting the numbers and the exact location of the hands, watching the white face, and recognizing the rhythmic pattern of the ticking, finding myself getting lost in time. It was familiar, as if I had seen it many a times before.
But the vision faded, and I was surrounded in the pale warmth. He stood there, looking at me as if confused and unsure.
“Are you alright, my love? You seem out of it today.”
“Ah, that I am.”
“But what troubles you? It better not be the thoughts of me leaving you, because rest assure, my sweet, I will never leave your side again if that is the case.”
“I am afraid I am lying to myself, and I am hiding the truth away.”
“I-I am confused, what do you mean?”
“I mean that I believe you are dead my dear, and this is only a fantasy, in which is the only place where I can see you again.” I felt myself say the words, and they didn’t seem to settle right. I couldn’t face thinking my world was a delusion.
“If that is the case my dear, do not leave this fantasy, because I don’t know what I would do without you either.” He came forth, and held me close. I felt his fingers in my hair and I felt the coarseness of his tweed jacket. James seemed so real to me at this moment. I looked up at him, and felt myself leaning towards him until our lips met in a kiss. My hand found itself on his cheek and the kiss became more passionate. I loved him, with all my heart, but I knew that I could never hide from reality forever.
The gentle ticking of the clock sounded as if it was counting down my time left with James, each second went by and I felt myself knowing that I would have to leave him, it was not right this untruthful love.
I felt myself holding him closer, relishing his touch, ravishing in his life. But then the dream returned, and I saw him standing in the distance, his arm wrapped around a petite, blonde girl, and I heard his voice telling me he didn’t love me anymore.
I released him, pushed him away from me and opened my eyes. The dead corpse fell to the ground with a soft thud, and its eyes rolled back into its head, tongue hanging from its mouth, which made it almost comical. Standing there, looking down on his dead body, feeling the love for him once more disappearing and returning as a cold hatred.
“James, I hope you understand. It was I who killed you; it was I who hid you in the wardrobe. It was I who returned because I had regretted what I had done.”
And then the ticking of the clock stopped.
Spider webs were hanging from every corner, dangling and spiralling in different directions, into a tangled mess. Crystal dust clung to them, ragged and ugly, the reminder of derelict lack of appeal. The dark wood of the wardrobe was covered in heavy layers of dust, undisturbed for all this time. The woods surrounding this clearing were crying out as I left the familiar place; the crunch of the dead leaves beneath my feet, the grating of the deformed branches against each other, the deafening howl of the wind blowing viciously. They sounded as if they no longer wished for me to be there. And there was no sunlight, heavy grey clouds hiding the sun from sight.
-------------------
Well, here you go. It was a bit different, and I would love feedback, certainly. If you have any questions, feel free to ask.
~Incognito
but, the second time I got all the plot points and figured the plot of the story, and read with interest.