Three Mistakes

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic
Why does nobody else see the beautiful girl that he finds so spellbinding?

Submitted: June 22, 2016

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Submitted: June 22, 2016

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Three Mistakes.

 

His first mistake was noticing her, the girl that seemed to appear from nowhere. He didn't know where she lived, what she did, or where she had come from.

 

He did not know her name.

 

The one thing that he did know was that she was the most beautiful girl that he had ever seen. Golden hair that hung in waves to her waist, a small almost elfin face. She was not tall but her slimness and stature made her seem so. He knew that he would be able to encircle her wrist with just his thumb and first finger.

 

There was something about her that spoke of strength, so much more than someone her size should have. She seemed like she could take on the world and come out victorious.

 

At the same time he got the impression of vulnerability, a fragility that meant that she could easily be hurt. He couldn't bear the thought of her being broken or damaged. He did not know her so why should that thought be so painful.

 

Nobody else seemed to notice her. Or if they did they did not show it. No one else seemed to find that they could not look away from her whenever she was near. She seemed to demand his full attention while at the same time be completely oblivious to it.

 

When he asked his mates if they had seen her they claimed ignorance of having seen anyone at all that looked like that. In fact they had not noticed anybody new in town. Perhaps, they suggested, it was wishful thinking on his part. Since he had broken up with Paula he had stayed well away from the girls. Maybe it was his subconscious telling him he had stayed alone long enough.

 

He had to admit that was an interesting idea. He had been devastated when Paula had moved away. It had been out of her control as she had to go with her parents. What had hurt so much was that after a relationship of eighteen months she did not seem to care.

 

But this girl was real. She was not just a figment of his imagination. She was not just a product of wishful thinking. If nobody else noticed her that was their loss. He would introduce himself. He would get to know her. All he needed was a chance to just say, 'Hello'.

 

* * * * * * * * * *

 

His second mistake was deciding to follow her. He vowed to himself that he would shadow her the next time he had a chance.

 

Days went by with not a glimpse of her to be had. He found himself spending more and more time just hanging around in the town, doing nothing but looking at everyone that walked past. Doing nothing more than waiting to catch another glimpse of her face.

 

Once or twice he thought that he saw her but when he went to follow her she was again nowhere to be seen. It was almost as though she vanished into thin air.

 

A ghost? That could explain why no one else could see her. That could explain her ability to disappear almost in front of his eyes. But no, he did not believe that she was any form of phantom. She had too much substance, too much presence. Although beautiful there was nothing ethereal about her.

 

After several weeks with nothing more than the occasional distant glimpse he grew disheartened. There was a fountain in the town that was ringed by seats. He sat on one and stared glumly into the water. She had gone. Any chance of happiness for him had gone with her.

 

The sun rose high in the sky while he sat and stared into the ripples and splashes. He was still sitting there as the sun started to set. He blinked then blinked again. It had to be some cruel trick of the light. Her reflection stared back at him, right next to his own.

 

Green! Her eyes were green. He had never had the chance to look close enough to tell. Could he dare to turn away from the reflection to look towards her. He did not know. Maybe by doing that he would make her vanish again and he did not yet want to chance that.

 

He sat there and looked into her eyes and she looked back into his. The effect of the ripples was a bit disconcerting, blurring and distorting their faces into unusual and slightly grotesque shapes. Some of the faces were so funny he could not help but smile at them.

 

And she smiled too. He watched as she reached out a hand to his face. He watched as she stroked his cheek. Definitely no phantom, but her skin was unusually cool. He wanted to reach for her hand but he did not. He did not want to scare her away.

 

After a time he felt that he could turn his head to look directly at her. He would keep it slow, no sudden alarming movements to startle her. But even before he had fully turned from the water he could see that she had gone.

 

No need for slowness now. He turns and stands just in time to see her fleeing figure. This time he determines that he will not let her go. He starts to walk after her, then he starts to run. He will not lose sight of her again.

 

* * * * * * * * * *

 

He is shortly to make his third and final mistake. He should never have followed her into the woods where the fading sun does not reach at all.

 

He is not thinking straight. She has captured his heart and even if she was to let it go he would not want it back. He has given it to her and either she keeps it or breaks it. There is now no other way.

 

Her clothes seem to glisten. He can see her ahead of him even though he cannot make out the ground where he is treading. Her hair is like a softly glowing curtain as it flows out behind her, almost beckoning him on.

 

He has never been so deep into the forest before. It had never seemed to be this big, not much more than a small woods. Not this evening. The trees that stand on either side of him are huge, old. The smell is almost overwhelming, a mixture of damp, moss, grass and decay. He does not care. He will catch her up and she will want him to.

 

Why doesn't she slow down.? How does she know just where to place her feet so the roots do not rise up to trip her? Should he call out. Somehow he feels that to speak now would lead to the end of everything.

 

She is slowing now. If he can just keep up his pace, just manage to stay on his feet, he will reach her. If he stretches out his arm now he can almost touch her.

 

And he reaches her. He holds her arm. And it is as though the whole forest lets out a gasp of shock. She turns to face him but she is not how he remembers. Her face is changing before his eyes.

 

Her hair is twining around itself as though to form branches with leaves. Her body is fusing into a solid shape, her feet digging down deep in the ground. And her face, her beautiful face, is transforming in front of his eyes to the texture of bark.

 

Her arms reach out and fold themselves around him, trapping him into an embrace from which there will be no escape. For she is the oak and he has given her his heart.


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