The girl in a tiny bottle

Reads: 114  | Likes: 0  | Shelves: 0  | Comments: 0

More Details
Status: Finished  |  Genre: Fantasy  |  House: Booksie Classic

Submitted: December 13, 2016

A A A | A A A

Submitted: December 13, 2016

A A A

A A A


When I was a baby, I had not know how to feel. You see, I was born with a heart of ice. You may have heard of people having a heart of stone but have you ever heard of a girl with a heart of ice stone? Probably yes, not many times. When I was a baby my mother was afraid of me, my father threatened to leave my mother if she did not dispose of me. My mother is kind hearted women and so she ran through the darkness, letting it swallow her as she goes deeper and deeper into the mouth, of the forest which is full of strange creatures and the unpredictable outcome that might gives her. She stops for a drink of water, in the middle of the forest, and left me under two trees that are tangled together creating a small cave, big enough for me to stay, cosy enough for me to sleep, and it has enough shade for me to hide from the other creatures. My mother is not very fond of those strange creatures that lives in the forest, but she is somewhat kind to them. unlike my father, he very much treasure every strange creatures that he comes across and stuff them with dreadful things that couldn’t be described and sold them for a formidable price. Yes, that’s the type of man my father is.  

 

Many days would speak to me and many nights would sing to me. Many seasons of trees would dance for me and the leaves would kiss me, like rain when they fall from above. The drops of the rain would greet the barks of the tree and make their way down to me through the crack between the barks. I would then drink the water and the blue fairy would help me. Little did I know, the tree is a home to a blue fairy that has a power to manipulate water. She seem lovely enough to be a mother. She is a quarter height of a human. Her pointy bare feet and her fingerless hands make her seem like she’s thinner than she is. Her head is slimly bigger than the size it should be but the attach blue leaves that are acting as her hair made it seem like it bigger. Days after days, I finally accept that it’s her hair. Her hair is black. It took me several days to judge if it was black or dark blue. Until one night, when she took me out to see the silver moon. In the open forest, up high on a hill. High enough that I could see the rest of the forest and small portion of the village. I stared at the moon while laying inside my basket. I was tiny to know what that bright thing in the sky was. It’s strange how I remember what happened even when I was a baby, most humans wouldn’t remember such thing. Nevertheless, I looked to the fairy who was sitting next to me and looked to the bright night. This is the part when I turned my head to the side to see her head that shimmers in the glow of the moon. It shimmer light blue, yet her hair is that blue. It’s blue. Dark. Very dark blue.

 

Many moons visited us until I’ve come to the age of what they called young adult. I now am able to run freely without my mother on my side. I have only one mother, she is blue and was made out of dew. She is as warm as the sunlight that kisses the morning dew and as cheerful as the chirpy birds in the spring days. When the sun wakes me from its gradients that shimmers through my leave curtains, I would race the dragonfly to get down from the tree house and run alongside the green and tiny dancers on the grass. They dance all night and all day to make that beautiful art on the ground. They are as small as your index finger and your pinky finger. Some of them would be somewhat like your thumb size. As we run to the cliff, I would wave my hand and greet the other creatures that hides within the nature until we come across the cliff. The cliff is high. Very high. The green fairies would chatter behind me and pushes each other to jump into the green and blue water. It’s like a very deep pool that surrounds by many other tall rocks and cliffs. The centre of the pool is very dark while the sides of it is green. When I was a child, I had not known how to dance or breath under water until my mother taught me how. I asked the fairies if they wanted to jump first. Every morning they would fuss and and fights over who’s turn to go. I wonder if the kinds have sibling, would be something like the fairies and I are being right now? We understand and fight against each other but we never hurt one another. I wonder how my kinds would speak. Would any of my kinds understand me if I try to speak like how I usually speak to the fairies?

 

I Jump into the pool and persuades my friends to join me. I enjoy doing this, it’s like a routine. My friends would shake their heads and shouts at me with that extremely high pitch inaudibly scream. I’m used to it, it’s how they communicate. It’ how WE communicate. I dive deeper into the pool and breathes as I do so. I feel calm in the water. We can’t communicate like we do in the land, me and my friends would communicate through bubble language. It’s when we make certain bubbles from our mouths. This language is very common among the water fairies. I breath out with the bubbles I made and the fairies does what I requested. They went up to the surface and finds a blue rose. This rose is extremely rare among my kinds. They believe it’s a myth. This rose is not different than any other rose, it has thorns, stem, petals and leaves. They do have different colour though. This kind of rose is only available in our land because the fairy that made it only made few and so her only generation can make the flower very little at a time of days. He would be extremely tired if he were to spread the flower any further than our land. I dive deeper into the cave of water and find what I was looking for. It’s a water blue rose. This rose is the only water rose you would ever find. I knew they would come around this time. Mother would be pleased with this, she should always put them inside the tree bark and protects it with her water to prevent it from rotting. I dance to the surface and shoots myself up to the cliff where I meet my friends and tell them what I’m about to do with the flowers.

 

We touch every trees that would help us to go faster with the help of their roots acting as a shooter. They wold make spiral around us and shoot from tree to tree. Until we come to the house tree. A sudden attack from my heart made me sink into my knees and the roots of all trees from around me catches me before I fall to the ground and made a bed that I lay in. My heart beats like a maniac, it’s like a the type of headache that you would want to bang your head on rock; it hurst so much I want to rip it out and bang it on something hard.  

 

The next thing I knew, I’m in this bottle. An enormous glass bottle dashing my way through the waves. Where is my mother? She would demand for the wave to stop if she were here. I want my mother here. She-she’s not h-h-here. Why isn’t she here? I look down to the glass ground as I shed my tears. A note being glued with a sticky stick, it reads in water language: ‘until this wish has come true you will remain here in the bottle, sailing across the horizon. I took your icy heart in exchange for your wish.’ 

 

My mother must’ve gone somewhere, it’s too bad that she captured me before my mother got home. I’m now as small as your pinky finger and as helpless as the homeless. I jump up to open the bottle. Instead of jumping up, my body releases blue feathered wings on my back. I gasps and tries to fall to the ‘ground’. What happened to me? I look to my chest and see the mark where she took my heart. As I tuck my chin to my neck to see my chest, my eyes open wide and find myself panting and sweating. I try to remember the reason why I panted and sweaty all over my face. What kind of dream did I have? 

 

It’s morning. I should get ready for school and head down stairs where mum is calling me for breakfast. Oh god. When is she going to do this? She’s soooooo annoying. Ugh… SO I shout back “I’m coming, mum!” 

 

Do people really dream a lot? Do people really forget 90% of their dreams?


© Copyright 2017 seindah nms. All rights reserved.