Sequel: Glass (Full Version) ›
Glass
Glass
Glass
The garden was a beautiful place; it stretched on as far as the girl could see in every direction, and never failed to take her breath away. To the east there were rolling green hills that escalated into mountains. To the north the land was flat and grassy with a few trees cutting into the horizon here and there. Sometimes on very clear days when the sky was free of clouds if the girl squinted, she thought she could make out a small structure way off in the distance. On most days it was nothing more than a speck if it was visible at all. It always intrigued her, and she spent many hours imagining its origins and purpose. The girl had never thought of venturing to it, for as long as it remained unknown it remained hers and hers alone, filled with happiness and imagination. To the south the land became marshy. The girl knew that if she walked far enough through this marshland, it eventually became rocky until it gave way to a clear stream running through the mountains’ foothills.
The girl was roaming through these rocky outcroppings, her bare feet and hands adeptly searching out patches of soft grass. Strapped to her back was a hollowed gourd which served as a canteen. With every step it pounded against her, making an empty, reverberating sound. After a time, the girl arrived at her favorite place to collect water, a thin but deep stream that pooled under a tree with low-hanging branches. She opened her canteen and dipped it into the water, laughing at the bubbles it released. When the canteen was filled, the girl sat back and took a hearty drink from it. She lay back beneath the tree and sighed with contentedness. She sealed the canteen and shook it, her laughter mingling with the sloshing sound of water. Kneeling beside the pond, the girl saw that the water was smooth and seemingly endless. The girl’s initial reaction was to draw back in fear, but the reflective quality of the pond held her attention. She inched her face closer to the water until she realized she was seeing herself. She gazed at the water and scrutinized her reflection.
Her hair curled in a thousand different directions and contained a memento from everywhere she had been lately. A flower from the meadow, some leaves from a recent excursion into the forest, and moss from travels through the marshlands. Although the rest of her body was lanky and thin, her face still bore the color and plumpness of youth. She ran her hand down the bridge of her nose and over her mouth. She smiled, revealing two over-sized adult front teeth, and several missing baby teeth. The girl’s eyes were wide and inquiring, far too big for her face. She raised her eyebrows, wrinkling her forehead. Her eyes were a deep green and reminded her of ivy. Suddenly, a bird flew overhead, calling loudly. The girl jumped up, startled. She realized she was in no danger, but her heart was still racing, so she snatched up her canteen and hurried back the way she came.
~ ~ ~
The canteen was bound to the girl’s back once again. It hardly bounced anymore; it had once swung freely past her hips, but the leather strap was too short for her growing body, and the canteen pressed into the small of her back. The girl was again making her way through the grassy meadow, but this time with a purpose. As she walked through the now waist-high grass, the girl’s vision was focused solely on the elusive structure that had forever intrigued her.
After years of wondering, the girl had finally decided to explore the mysterious building. She had set out at sunrise when she saw that the structure was visible for the first time in several days. With difficulty, she forced the canteen over her shoulder. The designs she had painted on it were faded, dirty and chipped, for it had endured many excursions since it had been decorated.
As the girl walked through the meadow, a slight breeze picked up and rustled the grass around her. The breeze soon became a wind, blowing the girl’s already wild hair into her face until her vision was completely obscured. The girl kept walking for several hours, the sun beating down on her from different angles as it made its way across the sky. As she neared the structure, it became clearer to her, and she pressed on more quickly. With every step the sky seemed to darken, and the girl’s excitement mounted. It soon began to drizzle, a light haze that did little more than dampen the girl’s hair. However, by the time the girl approached the building, the rain became harder and thunder boomed in the distance.
At length the girl approached the structure. It was a low rectangular white building with a green door at one end and two broken windows at the front like the eyes of a dead animal. A fence had once surrounded the building, but it had been reduced to little more than a few once-white melancholy pickets and a gate that creaked in the violent wind.
The girl took a moment to survey the building. She had expected more than a rundown mystery in the pouring rain, and was a bit disappointed. She wanted to turn back, for the mysterious structure was a bit frightening, but she did not want to walk all the way back in the rain. She approached the building with trepidation and went inside.
~ ~ ~
The floor was cold on the girl’s bare feet, and it was of a strange material she had not encountered before, hard as stone, but much smoother. She wrapped her fingers around the leather strap of her canteen and shivered. Everything about the building seemed to be cold. Because the rain was coming down even harder, and lightning flashed across the sky, the girl felt that she had no choice but to remain in the house, at least until the storm stopped. She held onto her canteen, feeling that setting it down would signify a permanence she wanted no part of in this frightening place. She recognized almost nothing in the room aside from a few natural elements that had blown in through the broken windows. She walked over to one of the windows and peered out, looking for signs of the sun reappearing. As she turned, she stepped on something hard and sharp on the floor. She cried out in pain and fell. She examined her foot and found that it was bleeding. Finally, she found the culprit. She picked it up gently, taking care not to drop it between her slightly shaking fingers. The girl did not recognize the material she was holding. It was clear, hard, cold, and sharp. She squeezed it and was amazed at its smoothness. Suddenly a frightening thought occurred to her. Whatever it was could not be natural. She threw it as far away from herself as she could, and it shattered.
“Glass,” came a voice from across the room, a fluid motion low to the ground moved towards her from a dark corner of the room. She felt trapped between the glass on the floor and the new presence and did no more than tremble in fear as the thing approached her. “That’s glass. Where did you come from?”
The girl did not answer; she was completely mystified by the idea of speech having never encountered another intelligent being as herself, yet somehow she understood.
“Speak!” the voice commanded sharply.
“I-I can’t see you,” the girl murmured, her voice coming out in grunts and gasps as she began to use it for something besides her usual laughter or yelling.
“Of course,” the voice said more to itself and its source came into view. A legless creature, long and thin slithered into the girl’s field of vision. The girl gasped as she took its appearance in. Never had she seen something so terribly beautiful. “I am Serpent,” it said. The girl did not think to identify herself as she had never had to do so before. Before she could speak again, the Serpent continued, “So you are girl. Stand up.”
The girl remained sitting, frozen on the ground, amidst the broken glass. She pointed to the floor and shook her head, not trusting her newfound voice over her hands. “Stand up,” the Serpent commanded again. “Just don’t step on it.”
“No,” the girl said, louder than she intended to. “I’m afraid.”
Immediately the Serpent softened its commanding tone. “It’s alright,” it reassured her. “You can just step over it. I promise I won’t let you cut your feet.” Very carefully, the girl picked her way over the glass. “That’s better,” The Serpent said. “Where did you come from?”
“Across the grass,” the girl answered, pointing back the way she had come.
“What are you doing in my house?” asked the Serpent, moving closer to the girl.
“House…” she repeated dumbly; the unfamiliar word was nothing more than air on her tongue.
“House,” the Serpent said. “This place. The place where I live.”
“I’ve always wondered what it was,” the girl began slowly. “And I… I just wanted to know.”
They both fell silent for a moment, and the Serpent began to creep forwards, towards the girl. Her eyes were still adjusting to the light, and on the grey floor, the Serpent seemed to be darker than any night the girl had ever seen. She held her breath as it approached her, unsure of its intentions. Suddenly, its head was on her foot. The girl gasped in shock, and looked down. The Serpent felt cold and rough on her skin. It’s tongue flicked out of it’s mouth, and the girl was horrified to see that it was split in two. The Serpent stretched it’s body further around the girl’s leg until it was wrapped around her ankle. It continued it’s ascent until it encircled the girl’s thigh. The tip of it’s tail rested on her ankle, and it’s head rested on her hip.
Finally, the girl looked down at it. Against her alabaster skin, she realized that the Serpent was actually a deep blue and its eyes were a liquid-looking onyx. Again, the Serpent spoke, “Aren’t you cold?”
“Only here,” she said, shivering at the reminder.
“Put your canteen down and come sit,” the Serpent instructed. The girl obeyed, and when she turned back around the Serpent had disappeared to a corner of the room. Unsure of what to do and afraid of stepping on more glass, the girl remained where she was. A few moments later, a faint light appeared from the corner into which the Serpent had disappeared. The corner was illuminated and revealed a small fireplace and the Serpent sitting coiled on the hearth. “Come sit,” the Serpent said.
The girl approached it slowly, enticed by the warmth the fire provided. She sat down on the hearth next to the Serpent, slightly less afraid to be in close quarters with it. “How long have you lived here?” she asked it.
“A very long time,” the Serpent answered quietly. “Much longer than you have been living there.”
“How do you know?” the girl asked.
“I’ve seen you before,” the Serpent said. “I’ve been watching you. You live very strangely.”
“Is that a bad thing?” the girl asked, confused.
“In a way,” the Serpent answered. “But I know how to help you. It will do you good, I promise.” It slithered over to her and rested its head on her thigh ascending higher until it was draped across her shoulders. Its tongue flicked out again and tickled the girl’s ear. She started at the surprising sensation, but made no sound. It coiled around her shoulders, and its scales felt rough and sharp against her skin. It coiled tighter still, its muscled body chafing against the soft, pale skin of the girl’s neck. “What are you-” the girl’s frightened question ended in a gasp as the Serpent squeezed itself around her neck until she couldn’t breathe. The girl tried to raise her arms and tear it off herself, but it had restricted her shoulders, and she couldn’t. The girl’s face began to burn, and the prickling, sharp sensations made their way down her body. Her hands were pinned to her sides, and she clawed at any skin she could reach emitting a half shriek half gasp as she fell to the floor and felt that her own skin was rough and textured as if she was touching the Serpent. Writhing in pain on the floor, she rolled on top of a shard of glass and it made a high pitched crunching noise between her body and the floor. That’s the sound of a broken promise, was the last thing she thought before all she could feel was the color blue.
The garden was a beautiful place; it stretched on as far as the girl could see in every direction, and never failed to take her breath away. To the east there were rolling green hills that escalated into mountains. To the north the land was flat and grassy with a few trees cutting into the horizon here and there. Sometimes on very clear days when the sky was free of clouds if the girl squinted, she thought she could make out a small structure way off in the distance. On most days it was nothing more than a speck if it was visible at all. It always intrigued her, and she spent many hours imagining its origins and purpose. The girl had never thought of venturing to it, for as long as it remained unknown it remained hers and hers alone, filled with happiness and imagination. To the south the land became marshy. The girl knew that if she walked far enough through this marshland, it eventually became rocky until it gave way to a clear stream running through the mountains’ foothills.
The girl was roaming through these rocky outcroppings, her bare feet and hands adeptly searching out patches of soft grass. Strapped to her back was a hollowed gourd which served as a canteen. With every step it pounded against her, making an empty, reverberating sound. After a time, the girl arrived at her favorite place to collect water, a thin but deep stream that pooled under a tree with low-hanging branches. She opened her canteen and dipped it into the water, laughing at the bubbles it released. When the canteen was filled, the girl sat back and took a hearty drink from it. She lay back beneath the tree and sighed with contentedness. She sealed the canteen and shook it, her laughter mingling with the sloshing sound of water. Kneeling beside the pond, the girl saw that the water was smooth and seemingly endless. The girl’s initial reaction was to draw back in fear, but the reflective quality of the pond held her attention. She inched her face closer to the water until she realized she was seeing herself. She gazed at the water and scrutinized her reflection.
Her hair curled in a thousand different directions and contained a memento from everywhere she had been lately. A flower from the meadow, some leaves from a recent excursion into the forest, and moss from travels through the marshlands. Although the rest of her body was lanky and thin, her face still bore the color and plumpness of youth. She ran her hand down the bridge of her nose and over her mouth. She smiled, revealing two over-sized adult front teeth, and several missing baby teeth. The girl’s eyes were wide and inquiring, far too big for her face. She raised her eyebrows, wrinkling her forehead. Her eyes were a deep green and reminded her of ivy. Suddenly, a bird flew overhead, calling loudly. The girl jumped up, startled. She realized she was in no danger, but her heart was still racing, so she snatched up her canteen and hurried back the way she came.
~ ~ ~
The canteen was bound to the girl’s back once again. It hardly bounced anymore; it had once swung freely past her hips, but the leather strap was too short for her growing body, and the canteen pressed into the small of her back. The girl was again making her way through the grassy meadow, but this time with a purpose. As she walked through the now waist-high grass, the girl’s vision was focused solely on the elusive structure that had forever intrigued her.
After years of wondering, the girl had finally decided to explore the mysterious building. She had set out at sunrise when she saw that the structure was visible for the first time in several days. With difficulty, she forced the canteen over her shoulder. The designs she had painted on it were faded, dirty and chipped, for it had endured many excursions since it had been decorated.
As the girl walked through the meadow, a slight breeze picked up and rustled the grass around her. The breeze soon became a wind, blowing the girl’s already wild hair into her face until her vision was completely obscured. The girl kept walking for several hours, the sun beating down on her from different angles as it made its way across the sky. As she neared the structure, it became clearer to her, and she pressed on more quickly. With every step the sky seemed to darken, and the girl’s excitement mounted. It soon began to drizzle, a light haze that did little more than dampen the girl’s hair. However, by the time the girl approached the building, the rain became harder and thunder boomed in the distance.
At length the girl approached the structure. It was a low rectangular white building with a green door at one end and two broken windows at the front like the eyes of a dead animal. A fence had once surrounded the building, but it had been reduced to little more than a few once-white melancholy pickets and a gate that creaked in the violent wind.
The girl took a moment to survey the building. She had expected more than a rundown mystery in the pouring rain, and was a bit disappointed. She wanted to turn back, for the mysterious structure was a bit frightening, but she did not want to walk all the way back in the rain. She approached the building with trepidation and went inside.
~ ~ ~
The floor was cold on the girl’s bare feet, and it was of a strange material she had not encountered before, hard as stone, but much smoother. She wrapped her fingers around the leather strap of her canteen and shivered. Everything about the building seemed to be cold. Because the rain was coming down even harder, and lightning flashed across the sky, the girl felt that she had no choice but to remain in the house, at least until the storm stopped. She held onto her canteen, feeling that setting it down would signify a permanence she wanted no part of in this frightening place. She recognized almost nothing in the room aside from a few natural elements that had blown in through the broken windows. She walked over to one of the windows and peered out, looking for signs of the sun reappearing. As she turned, she stepped on something hard and sharp on the floor. She cried out in pain and fell. She examined her foot and found that it was bleeding. Finally, she found the culprit. She picked it up gently, taking care not to drop it between her slightly shaking fingers. The girl did not recognize the material she was holding. It was clear, hard, cold, and sharp. She squeezed it and was amazed at its smoothness. Suddenly a frightening thought occurred to her. Whatever it was could not be natural. She threw it as far away from herself as she could, and it shattered.
“Glass,” came a voice from across the room, a fluid motion low to the ground moved towards her from a dark corner of the room. She felt trapped between the glass on the floor and the new presence and did no more than tremble in fear as the thing approached her. “That’s glass. Where did you come from?”
The girl did not answer; she was completely mystified by the idea of speech having never encountered another intelligent being as herself, yet somehow she understood.
“Speak!” the voice commanded sharply.
“I-I can’t see you,” the girl murmured, her voice coming out in grunts and gasps as she began to use it for something besides her usual laughter or yelling.
“Of course,” the voice said more to itself and its source came into view. A legless creature, long and thin slithered into the girl’s field of vision. The girl gasped as she took its appearance in. Never had she seen something so terribly beautiful. “I am Serpent,” it said. The girl did not think to identify herself as she had never had to do so before. Before she could speak again, the Serpent continued, “So you are girl. Stand up.”
The girl remained sitting, frozen on the ground, amidst the broken glass. She pointed to the floor and shook her head, not trusting her newfound voice over her hands. “Stand up,” the Serpent commanded again. “Just don’t step on it.”
“No,” the girl said, louder than she intended to. “I’m afraid.”
Immediately the Serpent softened its commanding tone. “It’s alright,” it reassured her. “You can just step over it. I promise I won’t let you cut your feet.” Very carefully, the girl picked her way over the glass. “That’s better,” The Serpent said. “Where did you come from?”
“Across the grass,” the girl answered, pointing back the way she had come.
“What are you doing in my house?” asked the Serpent, moving closer to the girl.
“House…” she repeated dumbly; the unfamiliar word was nothing more than air on her tongue.
“House,” the Serpent said. “This place. The place where I live.”
“I’ve always wondered what it was,” the girl began slowly. “And I… I just wanted to know.”
They both fell silent for a moment, and the Serpent began to creep forwards, towards the girl. Her eyes were still adjusting to the light, and on the grey floor, the Serpent seemed to be darker than any night the girl had ever seen. She held her breath as it approached her, unsure of its intentions. Suddenly, its head was on her foot. The girl gasped in shock, and looked down. The Serpent felt cold and rough on her skin. It’s tongue flicked out of it’s mouth, and the girl was horrified to see that it was split in two. The Serpent stretched it’s body further around the girl’s leg until it was wrapped around her ankle. It continued it’s ascent until it encircled the girl’s thigh. The tip of it’s tail rested on her ankle, and it’s head rested on her hip.
Finally, the girl looked down at it. Against her alabaster skin, she realized that the Serpent was actually a deep blue and its eyes were a liquid-looking onyx. Again, the Serpent spoke, “Aren’t you cold?”
“Only here,” she said, shivering at the reminder.
“Put your canteen down and come sit,” the Serpent instructed. The girl obeyed, and when she turned back around the Serpent had disappeared to a corner of the room. Unsure of what to do and afraid of stepping on more glass, the girl remained where she was. A few moments later, a faint light appeared from the corner into which the Serpent had disappeared. The corner was illuminated and revealed a small fireplace and the Serpent sitting coiled on the hearth. “Come sit,” the Serpent said.
The girl approached it slowly, enticed by the warmth the fire provided. She sat down on the hearth next to the Serpent, slightly less afraid to be in close quarters with it. “How long have you lived here?” she asked it.
“A very long time,” the Serpent answered quietly. “Much longer than you have been living there.”
“How do you know?” the girl asked.
“I’ve seen you before,” the Serpent said. “I’ve been watching you. You live very strangely.”
“Is that a bad thing?” the girl asked, confused.
“In a way,” the Serpent answered. “But I know how to help you. It will do you good, I promise.” It slithered over to her and rested its head on her thigh ascending higher until it was draped across her shoulders. Its tongue flicked out again and tickled the girl’s ear. She started at the surprising sensation, but made no sound. It coiled around her shoulders, and its scales felt rough and sharp against her skin. It coiled tighter still, its muscled body chafing against the soft, pale skin of the girl’s neck. “What are you-” the girl’s frightened question ended in a gasp as the Serpent squeezed itself around her neck until she couldn’t breathe. The girl tried to raise her arms and tear it off herself, but it had restricted her shoulders, and she couldn’t. The girl’s face began to burn, and the prickling, sharp sensations made their way down her body. Her hands were pinned to her sides, and she clawed at any skin she could reach emitting a half shriek half gasp as she fell to the floor and felt that her own skin was rough and textured as if she was touching the Serpent. Writhing in pain on the floor, she rolled on top of a shard of glass and it made a high pitched crunching noise between her body and the floor. That’s the sound of a broken promise, was the last thing she thought before all she could feel was the color blue.