Katrina looked at the dark moors wondering why it was always a calming presence, not a frightening one. Perhaps it was the fact that darkness felt more like an old friend, something that was of great comfort in a lonely world. People were the problem. Rather than fear the unknown, she knew to fear what lies in people's hearts. They hook you, pretend to love you (or worse- they do love you but still choose to hurt you anyway) then they leave you. Hopefully your sanity is still intact, but no guarantees. Life really isn't fair sometimes.
The night sky was painted in hues of pink, purple and dark blue, with thick dark clouds moving in. This time of day is in that lovely haze of could be dawn or dusk, almost a perfect twilight of reality. Katrina wrapped her arms around herself, trying to warm herself up, she rubbed her hands up and down. Starting to wish she grabbed a particular coat and not just a light blanket instead, maybe wearing shoes would be helpful right now, but she loved being barefoot. Inhaling deeply, the brink of frozen air felt so good in her lungs. The rawness made it easier to feel vibrations; you could feel trouble coming that way. Tonight, something big was on the way; the Earth's resonance was on fire.
Her cottage sat tucked into the valley like it was trying not to bother the world. Stone walls patched with moss, roof dark with age, a narrow path winding toward it like an afterthought. It wasn’t much, but it was hers — or at least, she lived there. Katrina never felt like she belonged anywhere, not really, but on good days the cottage felt almost warm, like it remembered how to be home even when she didn’t.
Looking over, she saw her father's coat hanging on the back of a chair, the dark hunter green color that perfectly matched the forest just outside. A sharp pain flashed across her chest like a fire, then faded slowly away. She had a feeling that she needed to put together a plan of escape and a bag of supplies; then shook her head no. This wasn’t going to happen again, this was HER new home and she was safe here. Safe in a quiet space. She made sure her door was locked, shook the door handle for good measure than went to the fireplace. Stoking a real-life fire was a lot harder than it looked; she really missed the highly advanced technological world at times. A constant distraction was always ready and available whereas here, it had a way of making you face yourself even when you didn’t want it. The fire slowly warmed her back up; she started to get drowsy and sat down on her couch where her small black lop eared rabbit was laying stretched out waiting. Katrina had rescued the little bunny when he was a baby and got separated from his mother, she saved him just in time.
“Little one, you aren’t supposed to hog the whole couch you know?” Katrina said as she sat close next to his hind legs. He did not move, merely huffed at her with an irritated stare while facing the fire. Katrina laughed lightly, smiling for the first time all day. “You really are the man of the house huh?” She slowly started petting him. He didn’t seem to mind if she didn’t touch his tail; that was a sensitive subject at all times. As Katrina kept up the repetitive movement, it started to lull her to sleep.
That’s usually when all hell broke loose.
Katrina slightly jerked awake, her hand still resting on the rabbit who was staring up at her. She swore she could see him look at her with almost concern, though it was probably only because he wanted his dinner served. Katrina started petting him again and saw the fire still burning low. It seemed so important, a promised meeting to someone she couldn’t quite remember. An ominous warning from an unknown man wearing an odd hat. He seemed so very...broken.
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
The next day, Katrina still felt restless from the nightmare she had. Wondering about dreams was something that felt like walking on water, just close enough to imagine it but focusing too hard made it disappear. Taking a walk to get some fresh air seemed like fun; going through the forest to get a good idea of the land is something she was taught to do since she was little. Katrina made a quick collection of a few items to take with her that may have seemed odd to some, but it’s what her father had always taught her to grab. A multi-tool and a big hunting knife, some baggies to hold random oddities that she often found along the way, spare change of clothes, candles and matches, finally some crystals in case of emergency. It was something most people would think odd but not raise any real alarms. Katrina knew how helpful these little powerhouse devices could be! Adding carrots at the last second, knowing her fury friend would protest if not. She packed and dressed, ready for an adventure; her black bunny in a harness and leash ready to hike.
They started walking towards the moors. Katrina lived in a cottage somewhat off the beaten path, the farther from people the safer she would be. The leaves fell all around them- it was truly the perfect autumn morning. The only thing that was missing was a big cup of coffee. Although, I dare say the bunny did NOT need any help in that area. They walked along the edge of the forest, down further into the abyss of greenery and dark sky that felt like eternity. The heavy smell of salt hung in the air, hitting her all at once on a strong breeze. Even after coming down here a few times, it still caught her by surprise. Once around the forest bend, the ocean appeared in the near distance; it looked as though the sky and sea were stitched together. There was a slow realization that there was an absence of all other forests' sounds. Katrina looked down at her companion constantly checking his signs of comfort; he never paused long enough to worry.
“La-zy waves, slow-ly roll-ing in,
like time, ne-ver both-ered them.”
The quiet rhythm looped in Katrina’s head before she even realized she was humming it. She felt a flicker of déjà vu, but they hadn’t been down to the ocean part in autumn yet. She shook her head slightly, like she was an Etch-A-Sketch? clearing out her thought process. This was her way of remembering to stay between the lines of rage and serenity, or else another event could happen.
A few more steps and she heard something that sounded like glass shattering, but there was no echo of it on the beach. Katrina shook her head again; she hated the sound of broken glass — it reminded her of that awful night. Looking down, she noticed her rabbit had stopped and was standing on his hind legs, staring curiously into a small enclave that led into a well-lit cave opening.
Suddenly he jumped, pivoted his whole body, and now faced the left. Everything on the ocean side distorted — quiet, warped — like a gaming glitch with a bad lag, then snapped back to normal and she could hear the waves again. The rabbit started thumping hard at the sea, as if it was a dark entity. Katrina closed her eyes, slowly raised her arm and slapped her face, took a deep breath, and opened them again. The glitch happened once more, and the rabbit dropped low to the ground with his ears perked forward and thumped at the sand. A chunk of glass fell out of thin air and shattered on a tree limb that had washed up on shore. The shards began to pull themselves back together, moving as if they were made of tar rather than glass.
It was just like her nightmare. It had been the same dream three nights in a row. You know what they say about things that come in three, right?
So mote it be.
