Luna Created

Sara’s POV Nothing was clear. I could not see. A kaleidoscope of colours blurred my sight. The tears threatened to spill over. No! I shook my head, refusing to give them the satisfaction, not this time. I raised my head and peered into the darkness, but to my surprise, I was alone. Questions began to race through my mind. How long have I been here? Where have they gone? When had they left? Ugh - what is that smell? A mix of salt and pennies flooded my airways, choking me and making me light-headed. Knowing there was no choice but to get up, I raised my aching arm, reaching up with my left arm, my hand patting around frantically for something to grab something, anything. All too quickly, I found the cold stone. Digging my fingers into the rough grooves, I levered myself up off the damp concrete floor. A piercing scream sucked the air from the icy room. Suffocating, spinning, spiralling out - gasping for air. My senses abandoned me. I cannot hear. I cannot breathe... When I finally come to, I find myself back in my bedroom dazed, waking up from the restless night. Throwing open the old wooden window, I peered out in an attempt to get some indication of the time. The cool morning air kisses my skin. The first rays of the morning sun are breaking through the darkness. Everything has that just-woke feel - once more, everything is brand new, untouched, perfect. The glow creeps across the ground as if wishing to greet each plant, animal and place a good morning. Each blade of grass glittered in tiny clear jewels, each flower yawning from its long rest, ready to start the day anew. The melody of the birds' trills in my ears and the smell of the forest bring life to my airways. The deep, dense trees surround the area, I feel them calling to me, pulling me in. For a second I forget where I am, longing to be out there, but I know better. Nobody enters the forest for fear of being lost. Many say it is filled with magic that once you enter you will never leave the same - if you get the chance to leave, others say that it is a load of poppy-c**k and the reason people don’t come back is simply that the forest is too deep, all those who run in are either scared or stupid and just get lost. I often wonder which is true. Desperate to hold onto this moment for as long as possible, I plonk myself on the sill, tossing my legs out to feel the morning air, the fabric of my simple white nightgown rippling faintly as I sit. Time passes and I sit resting my head on the side of the window just taking in the morning beauty until movement in the rooms around me indicates the family are waking. As quiet as a mouse, I jumped down from the window. With my hand to my chest, I take my chin down to meet my hand, close my eyes and deeply inhale, mentally readying myself for another day. Against the wall to the left of my bedroom door sat my dresser. The dresser was sturdy, made from white wood and hand carved. These drawers had been mine for as long as I could remember, all through my childhood. I walked over to them, running my fingers up the side, feeling the chip that was missing - I was only young when it happened, 5, maybe 6 years old. My father had finally returned from the war, bringing with him all his medals for bravery. It was the first time I had ever met my father. He had been away at war my whole life. Though I had heard plenty of stories of how he was a great man, a brave man. I was always so proud to know that my father was a noble man fighting to keep his family and kingdom safe. He brought home with him a number of medals, but by far my favourite was the 6-pointed star with a little diamond in the middle. I remember Lyla, my eldest sibling, and I played armies where we pretended to be just like daddy saving our home from the scary monsters. At the end of the game, Lyla ran off shouting back to me "Wait there, I know what we need!" When she returned she was holding our father's star medal "For bravery!" she explained, delight clear in her voice. In all of her excitement about awarding me the medal, she tripped over still holding the star in her hand, falling directly onto the dresser, causing the smallest chip on the edge and sending the star across the room. Tears filled her sad blue eyes. I rushed over to check she was not hurt. "Are you okay Lyla?" I asked her innocently. Running the sleeve of her dress across her running nose, she gave me a small smile and nodded. Knowing she was fine, I turned my attention to collecting the medal from the floor. Lyla's sobs caused our father to march into the room to find out what all the disruption was, just in time to see me holding the star. Muscle memory kicks in, causing my body to tense up as if I was back there receiving my first punishment. I close my eyes trying to push the memory away, a deflated breath leaves me. As always, the maids have left a bowl of warm, soapy water and a clean baby pink flannel on top of the dresser. Dipping the flannel into the soothing water, I could immediately smell the floral-scented soap they had added. It reminds me of a meadow in spring. I refresh myself with this, the scent remaining behind on my body as the water dries. Opening the dresser, I pulled out a simple, baby blue cotton dress with long sleeves and a modest neckline. Once dressed, I walk over to the full-length floor mirror which is located in the corner of the room on the same wall as my dresser to the right of the door and left of my large unmade bed. I pull up my long auburn hair into a few styles before settling on a plain, smooth bun. Daring not to leave my bed undone, I quickly pulled it together before heading downstairs.