A Stick in the Mud

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Literary Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
I know I have made some small grammatical errors, but I haven't the time to properly edit.
Personification at it's best people!
This isn't the best version of this story so once I have it in my grasp I will replace this version.

Submitted: May 02, 2011

A A A | A A A

Submitted: May 02, 2011



She was completely silent in the middle of the most beautiful forest. Only the rustling of the breeze through her hair was heard.
Wild flowers of wondrous colours and sizes bloomed every which way across this meadow, reaching up to catch the warm rays of the sun on their fluorescent petals. The rocks scattered across the path and clearing sparkled, welcoming the recent sunlight. The growing grass swayed as she did, becoming more vibrant with each passing day.
There was nature all around her; a bird singing joyful tones, squirrels skittering above her, and a doe was wandering just out of her reach.
She gracefully stretched her arms and legs, feeling the warmth on her skin and the sun sent freckles of light through her hair onto the ground. Her arms were long and strong, her legs and her legs are sturdy and built.
She breathed. In. Out. In. Out. She was meditating; growing providing life to herself and everything around her.
She was at peace. At long last she has grown and realized her importance. She breathes the wonderful gift of life.
She took in everything around her; she listened to the sound of the forest, she smelled the lush and untouched earth. She tasted the moisture in the air, and she felt the wandering currents of the clouds.
She wished nothing more than to stay there forever; to bathe in the sunlight, bask in the seasons changing and grow old.
She lived for the forest. She was one with it.
There was no comprehending why she felt the way she did. Perhaps there was no thought to it. Perhaps it was just a feeling and nothing more. It was a duty, an obligation, a feeling, a knowing.
Time was fleeting, but one cannot say the same for the forest at that time. No, time had not stopped, but slowed to the beat of a fading pulse. It tick-tocked away, but nothing was changing. Nature itself caused an occurrence in change, but never an emotional change. Never an internal change within her.
Nothing from the inside or outside touched her, affected her with the exception of Mother Nature.
She looked around. The forest was lush, running for miles with nothing but green. It was a wonderland of sorts; a calling, a haven.
She felt a sudden shift in the air. An eerie drop of pressure; a slow falling of temperature. Cloud cover, fading colours.
She began to feel uneasy. She heard a sound not familiar to her. There is a fierce snapping of branches, the crunching of leaves in hate under a malicious boot.
She saw him at the very edge of the clearing. Dark shadows covered his face and a canopy of sunken leaves blocked his eyes from her view.
The wind picked up. She trembled, goose bumps formed along her skin, her hair began to blow freely around her face.
He moved the leaves so she could fully see his face His eyes spelt despise, his mouth was twisted in loathing.
She bust out in a cold sweat as travelled through her body as he started to walk towards her. She was frozen; her body refusing to move in sheer terror.
His name is Chopper and she has seen him. He had not harmed her before or spoken to her before, but something in his movements told her that the circumstances would be different this time.
He stopped just a few feet away from her, eyeing her up and down. He was contemplating something, but she couldn’t understand what. As quickly as he came, he turned around and left through the path he first entered with.
Her muscles still tense, she watched that same path with the eyes of a hawk, waiting for his return. She knew it wasn’t over no matter how much she wished it to be so. Dark skies appeared, light rain began to beat down and mud began to form on the ground
A sudden, loud roaring sound ripped through the forest and she was once again put into shock. She saw Chopper emerge from the pathway with the horrible, ripping machine in his hands. He was briskly walking toward her and she could do nothing, but stare at her inevitable fate. After a few paces, he was close to her body, touching her and feeling her. He smiled a sick, nauseating smile and she closed her eyes. She felt him on her skin. She didn’t want to feel anything anymore.
Rain was falling hard and all that was heard was the ripping noise and lust was on the air
She was immobile and her limbs were shivering. She wanted to run, but her legs were unmoving.
He brought the ripping machine very close to her body and she felt the vibrations through the air.
She accepted her fate unwillingly and let the rain take her.
The Chopper first started by taking the machine across her midriff, slowly but surely, spilling pieces of her flesh in front of him.
Her body limply fell to the ground with a crash, her arms sprawling.
He promptly finished the job he set out to do.
The Chopper disconnected her limbs with the ripping machine and tied up all remaining pieces.
Once that was done, he began to leave, the remains and broken limbs trailing behind him.
What was left of her was being dragged through mud and rocks, her hair catching on twigs and falling out in strands; her skin being scratched and torn on the harsh earth.
Once something that provided life was now lifeless. An empty vessel; a broken ghost. The forest would never be the same.
The Chopper was a killer of sorts.
Her name was Willow and she is now being used to heat the Chopper’s house.

© Copyright 2019 AMarlee. All rights reserved.

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