Previous Chapters
Close
That Can't Be Right2,546 words
Hello There2,279 words

Hello There

The darkness was thick, as if it were tar or sludge. It hindered any motion she set forth into it, locking her in place despite all her struggles.

To make matters worse, the air was uncomfortably heavy and forced her to concentrate more on filling her lungs rather than focusing on where she was.

Opening her mouth to continue pleading for help, her throat screamed with a fiery resentment. Unable to utter anything beyond that of a hoarse whisper, she settled for keeping her mouth shut. Consequences for what she had already done would soon be upon her, she figured. For now, though, her thoughts were the only thing to keep her company.

She had to get out. That is all she knew.

Her mind struggled under the atmosphere of the room, if "room" were an accurate way to describe what surrounded her. She could never describe this place, which was due in part to the fact she couldn't see most of it. The majority of the space was shrowded in thick darkness that was almost mist-like.

Then again, she rarely focused on trying to describe it; she always wanted to leave it.

Opportunities for escape were severely limited considering moving was essentially impossible at the moment, but that didn't stop her from trying. Every few moments, she wracked her muscles to squirm out of whatever held her in place, her small arms and legs being easily held captive by the everpresent darkness.

She had already tried crying: her face was still wet with past tears, almost burned in her otherwise soft cheeks and delicate visage. Crying had done nothing to aid in her rescue, and it certainly did nothing to stop her.

Old memories of previous events wormed their way to the foreground of her mind upon realizing the futility of crying. New tears, hot and full of fear, began working their way to the front of her eyes. Immediately, she began thrashing in vain to free herself from her prison, her broken voice echoing off the endless walls of darkness. She couldn't face her again.

Her frail limbs finally gave out, aching as she withheld further efforts in contracting them. Then, she heard a familiar sound; a sound that made her blood run cold.

Footsteps, loud and angry, were making their way very quickly to where ever she was.

She was coming.

"No . . . no, please. I'm sorry," she began, her voice barely audible against the almost deafening footsteps. "I'll be quiet from now on, just don't hurt me anymore. Please!"

The footsteps surrounded her, encasing her in what seemed to be an onslaught of their noise. She was sure she'd go deaf.

The noise grew louder and louder, and the air around her contracted in response, restricting her already struggling lungs even more.

She clenched her eyes shut, desperately trying to get her lungs to expand and fill. Failing to do so, she opened her eyes, tears flowing freely and vision growing darker and darker. She finally allowed herself to got limp under the oppressive force of it all . . .

Her eyes shot open, and she sat-up slightly. Looking around, she was met with a dark room: her bedroom. Nothing had changed this time. Its features were masked under the lack of light, but she felt it.

Suddenly, pain wracked her chest. She pressed her hands hard against her heart, trying to knead the pain away. As was always the case, nothing she did helped ease the tightness in her chest. Nothing helped quell the stabbing in her chest, nor the needles riddling her entire body. It felt like her heart wanted to beat out of her chest as forcefully as possible.

She once again found herself out of breath, but she continued to concentrate at calming her heart down. Slowly but surely, her heart abided, settling into an irregular rhythm. Though it wasn't quite normal yet, she let her arms drift to her sides and tried to relax.

Upon finding she could breathe freely again, she sucked in lung-full after lung-full of air, only stopping to help quiet the sobs that began wracking her body. She clutched at the stuffed banana her father had given her. It was for her 7th birthday, and it provided the only comfort most nights. The thoughts only forced more tears to escape her eyes.

She needed to be quiet, lest she hear her out here.

She continued sobbing into her banana and pillow for what felt like hours, pushing away the horrible nightmare as far as she could and making sure the pillow absorbed most of the sound.

Eventually, her eyes had no more tears to cry, leaving them dried and bloodshot. Wiping at the sudden irritation with the back of a small hand, she found the courage to sit-up completely from the safeness of her banana and covers.

Re-examining her room, she once again confirmed both its peacefulness and its emptiness—two things that normally calmed her down. Tonight was different it would seem.

Slowly she settled back down into the mess of blankets and pillows, choking down sobs that tried to make their way up. Fighting to get her breath back once again, she closed her eyes.

Not wanting to risk another horrible nightmare, she focused on seeing the stars. She concentrated on filling the darkness behind her eyelids with the color of the night sky. Silently, she prayed a star would come down and swoop her up in its arms, taking her to see even more beautiful lights and colors. The thought brought something resembling a smile to her tear-stained cheeks.

When no such star made itself known, she vowed to try again some other time. Stars were surely very busy things, so she wasted no time on being hurt by it.

Feeling the familiar lure of sleep beginning to take her, she reluctantly forced her eyes to open despite the pain.

Suddenly, an idea came to her: it was still dark out, which meant that she could look at the stars if she was quiet.

Slowly, she poked her head over the edge of safety, checking both the floor and underneath the bed for potential dangers. Confirming that no such threat existed at the moment, she carefully inched one foot onto the fuzzy carpet below. One foot was quickly followed by the other as she gathered herself in a crouched stance, making sure not to displace the floor; mother wouldn't appreciate her being out of bed this late.

Gradually, she tip-toed alongside her bed, her small heart thumping in her chest as she approached the small window on the left of the room. When she reached the dresser in front of the window, she hopped onto it, arousing an audible creak as the wooden structure argued in response. She froze immediately and waited patiently for the noise to die out.

Crouched in complete stillness on top of the dresser, she waited. She scanned the room, stopping on the door, and she waited.

For a sound.

For anything that would warrant a scramble to the tangled mess that was her bed.

When nothing came, her shoulders slumped as she let out a long, relieved sigh. Turning back to the objective, she reached up to pull the last remaining obstacle up.

As the blinds receded upward, moonlight flooded into the room, enveloping her in its pureness.

Stars shone and twinkled in the sky. Royal blues and violets danced and mixed and intertwined on the deep dark canvas of night. The brightest stars dotted the entire display in specks of white and blue and red. An entire galaxy of light was spread across the sky in an elaborate painting natural beauty.

She thought it was stunning.

Curled into a ball with her hands wrapped around her knees, she sat there and soaked in every bit of light she could.

Completely entranced, she almost didn't notice the faint purple glow emerging from the darkest corner of her room, nor the figure cloaked in the natural darkness that remained when the purple glow faded. Almost.

The girl whipped her head around, taking in the new visitor with her own eyes. It was taller than her, but not taller than an adult. Beyond that, she hadn't the faintest idea who—or what—the figure was.

Carefully, she began to dismount the perch she held atop the dresser, not daring to take her eyes off the thing in the corner. Half-way through the movement, the thing took a single step forward, which completely shattered the girl's thin resolve.

The girl tumbled to the ground, smacking her head hard against the rug floor. Rubbing her head, she got to her feet and let out an ear-piercing scream, causing the figure to retreat in the corner abruptly.

Sensing her breath running out, the girl withheld her vocal onslaught and stared at the figure in horror, completely frozen. It was as if her legs simply turned to stone.

Her heart hammered in her chest, which heaved in heavy, unsteady breaths. The girl's instincts told her to run. To hide in her bed that was surely the only safe haven within reach. Instead, she stood there, observing the thing that seemed to be rubbing its head.

The crack at the bottom of her bedroom door suddenly was filled with artificial light, startling the girl out of her stupor. Soon, the light was followed by rapidly approaching footsteps.

"Lucy? Lucy, is everything alright in there, sweetie?" called a familiar feminine voice from down the hall.

Instinctually, Lucy turned and started for her bed. Before she got to salvation, however, pain seared through her chest once more, forcing her onto one knee as she clutched her chest.

No, not now! she pleaded.

Tears blurred her vision, but she slowly made her way into her bed, pulling herself into a cocoon of blankets and pillows. She swallowed hard, fighting down the pain and cries that threatened to break free from her. To help cover this up, she faced away from the door.

Just as she moved onto the appropriate side of the bed, her door swung open.

Though she could not see, she could hear the footsteps approach her bed quickly.

Summoning all of her remaining will, Lucy fought to appear as though she were sleeping.

She forced her eyes shut, willing herself to relax. Met with mild success, her stillness was only interrupted by the slight tremors that coursed through her chest erratically, causing her muscles to occasionally spazz with her straining heart.

She prayed the new visitor wouldn't notice.

The visitor in question reached the bed, gently turning Lucy to face towards the door. Lucy suddenly felt a soft hand against her cheek, which lifted her head slightly off her pillow. A second hand reached her forehead, gently stroking it in a manner that elicited a soft murmur from Lucy.

"I hope you're not just pretending to be asleep again," the visitor spoke in a hushed whisper. "You worry me sometimes, sweetie. Heck, I think all I worry about is you anymore."

Lucy remained still, her breath finally calming down thanks to the visitor.

"Love you, Lucy. Sleep well." With that, Lucy felt a small kiss on her forehead, and the visitor's hands slowly guided her head back down to the awaiting pillow.

As her door clicked shut once more, Lucy's eyes sprang open.

That was close.

Slowly sitting up in her bed, she immediately scanned the room in search of the figure in the corner. It was still there, motionless in the shadows. Her heart still fluttered in her chest, but curiosity was beginning to take over.

She rolled out of her bed, sliding onto the floor gently, and she began to gingerly make her way over to the corner. This time, when the figure moved forward as well, she did not cower.

Seeming to be prompted by her acceptance of its presence, the figure moved forward again. It was now on the edge of the shadow and the moonlight the trickled in from the room's window.

Lucy turned her head to one side, squinting into the darkness to try to see the figure more clearly. It stepped forward once again. She could now make out faint details of the figure.

Bright, luminous eyes stared into her own. They looked at her curiously, studying her with a wondrous gleam.

The figure stepped forward again.

Now, she could make out a long snout-like muzzle that was covered in dark . . . fur? Its "mouth" appeared to be curled in some sort of smirk. Lucy met the smirk with one of her own, realizing what was lurking in the darkness.

The figure took another step forward, its head held in perfect view, high in the moonlight.

A long, ethereal mane flowed from its head and neck, dotted with stars and constellations, some of which Lucy recognized and some of which she didn't. The figure's smirk was now a comforting, mother-like smile. It reminded Lucy of her own mother's.

"Hello there, little filly," the figure began in a firm, yet gentle voice. "I did not mean to frighten you so badly." The stranger paused and shifted its gaze into one corner of its vision, seeming to ponder what its next words should be.

After a brief moment of silence between the two, the stranger spoke once more. "My name is Prin—I mean . . ." It stumbled but quickly continued. "My name is Luna. May I ask what yours is?"

Lucy stared wide-eyed at what appeared to be a horse. Talking to her. She must be dreaming.

Best. Dream. Ever.

Realizing that it was her turn to speak, Lucy sputtered out a reply:

"L-Lucy . . . my name is Lucy."

Author's Note:

Sorry it took so long to get this out. Been busy with summer classes and general life stuff.

Also, here is the image I used for describing the night sky bit. I didn't want to rely on my memories, and I am not overly confident in my ability to describe it: