Creative Writing: Trapped!

She almost floated across the empty, box-like room. A cold shiver

relentlessly weaved its way down Emma’s spine as she ran her bony hand

down the bleak wall. The fireplace glared at her – its mouth opened

wide. The unfamiliar surroundings struck her as if forcing themselves

against her weak body –engulfing her. A soft breeze seething its way

into the room from the uneven cracks underneath the door meant that

the desolate room of openness had become filled with the sigh of the

wind. It was as if it was crying, almost howling for its voice to be

heard.

The young girl slowly ebbed towards the corner of the room. Something

had caught her eye – perhaps a sense of relief from the horrible

imaginings that had been taking place the night before. She shook the

disturbing thought from her head, turned to the mirror and gazed into

the blankness. The reflection of an old withered plant squatting in

the midst became apparent. The faint hint of colour brought a sense of

calm about the room. However as she peered even closer, its branches

and leaves had become warped – twisted with fear. It was as if this

dying plant was desperately reaching out to her. A silent plea.

Emma looked down at the floor, at her old nightgown. Memories

literally flooded her; memories of when she was a little girl and how

she always used to wish for a way to escape her life. She saw memories

of her drunken father - coming in the house late at night, only to hit

her mother and make her cry; memories of the countless men who abused

her - emotionally, physically, in every way imaginable; and a wave of

realisation washed over her. "Nothing… I have nothin...

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...tep Emma made her way towards

the back door. Each second seemed to last a lifetime. Shadows crawled

over her half-closed eyelids and a small tremor shook her body. She

thought about her mother, holding bravely onto her own sense of pride.

In her frightened haze, she hardly noticed the light snow that had

begun to fall outside. As she stepped onto the porch, the icy cold air

graced her skin and she breathed deeply, inhaling the coolness of a

winter’s morning on the breeze. To Emma, the cold was strangely

comforting. When the snow and silver finally settled to the ground,

two white doves - wings tipped with silver and eyes flashing, emerged

and flew in a spiral towards the moonlit sky. Before fading from view,

a bright glow began to surround their bodies and they disappeared in a

blinding flash of light. Emma had gone.