The same thrill
Kerri was walking down a large aqua stream. Dawn appeared as she came over the due-dropped hill. She could see as though icicles, small palaces placed in treetops; their inhabitants still asleep. These surrounded a beautiful glowing waterfall, creating soundless splashes. Where the source of the waterfall should have been, a castle bigger than all the rest was large and grand with a welcoming aura.
The stream Kerri was following, twisted between the ancient oaks. She followed the cobbled path that led to the castle. Either side of her arms were beech trees, nestled between other exotic and unknown plants; again they were all cresting homes of ice.
As the sun rose, peace, as Kerri had never experienced, dwelled in her.
She found herself at the door of the castle. The waterfall sounded rough here. She saw a man emerge from the door, his face pained. He looked through Kerri onto the world below. He fell head into hands, onto the floor.
Kerri swivelled round and saw the sky as red as blood. The trees … dead. The noise … screams. Chaos was everywhere. People yelled at her feet pulling her down. `Come back Kerri. We need you so!’
Others sobbed, `Why didn’t she come’
Then a laugh, high pitched and evil rang. It came close and closer until Kerri was confronted with the owner of the voice. Two red eyes appeared in front of her face.
Kerri woke up shaking. Her long chestnut hair sopping with sweat, her pale hands twitching. It was two in the morning. Kerri had woken again to the same thrills that had woken her time and time again.
Ever since Kerri could remember, she was disabled. She lived in an orphanage surrounded by ramps in order for her wheel chair to get around. Mrs Cowley was her carer. She was short, blonde and clumsy. She blundered through the door to Kerri’s room, rousing her from another uneasy dream.
`Karri Miss’ said Mrs Cowley in a squeaky voice. `Please wake up. We are going on a field trip to … `
At that moment, she tripped over the wheelchair and landed hard on her face.
` … Forest’ she finished, holding her hand to a bleeding nose. After she had helped Kerri swivel her paralysed legs into the wheelchair, she attended to her injury and scuttled off downstairs.
The seventeen-year-old orphan girl wheeled her way down to the breakfast hall, where a tired buzz was heard. She sat alone and once again reminisced on how perfectly pointless her life was. Kerri did this often. She sat looking into space, thinking; she had no aim, no goal nor any purpose to her life. She was a piece of puzzle that didn’t fit the puzzle she was living. She began to feel depressed but mixed with the negative thoughts however, she found a strange hope that came from nowhere. It was a hope that things just might get better.