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Posted: Wed Jul 06, 2005 2:01 pm
This story is the sequel to the story "Echo of Dreams" which some of you may or may not have read a while back. To recieve the first part of the story, send an e-mail to: jensharonk@aol.com Use a subject similar to: "this is -insert name here- from Gaia, requesting the first part of your story".
In the next post I'll start typing up the story. Beware, it's unfinished, and I may not be able to post it all at once.
Critiques, comments, suggestions, or just pure opinion are all more than welcome.
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Posted: Wed Jul 06, 2005 2:12 pm
Suddenly, Echo could no longer feel Fidelio's powerful hands gripping her thin neck. Her mind did not spin anymore with desperately hopeless snatches of thoughts. Her eyes slowly began to clear, but they did not focus on the satisfied face of Fidelio any longer.
Echo was still standing in a forest. Forbodig shadows still filled the spaces between the rows of trees. Despite the similarities to the surroundings she had recently departed from, Echo couldn't shake the feeling that this forest was...different. It somehow belonged to her, and it wreaked of her own evil.
Terribly frightened, Echo looked down at her hands. A part of her expected to see the large, work worn hands of Fidelio. Much to her relief, the same thin pale fingers she'd always known wiggled in greeting. Sighing, Echo began to walk in the direction she'd faced when she'd arrived.
How, exactly, had she been transported to Fidelio's world? How could his world even exist outside of her imagination? Thoughts continued to swim quickly through Echo's consciousness, but the many questions remained painfully baffling.
As she walked, Echo ran the scenes of her death over and over in her mind. She remembered again the harsh push that had forced her to her knees. She reenacted Fidelio's hands mercilessly encircling her neck. Wincing, she recalled begging for the life she'd already lost without realizing it. Finally, she allowed herself to remember the knife, plunging into her side, that had sent her swirling so quickly into this unfamiliar land. It all seemed so unreal, even as Echo reminded herself that memories cannot be imagined.
It was almost impossible for Echo to believe that she was truly living in the world she'd created so carelessly for Fidelio. She felt a sharp, distant pang of guilt. How could she have been so cruel? She couldn't even begin to imagine how Fidelio had lived for more than a year in such a dreary, empty forest. Echo had only gone through the trouble of creating a single town, but it was so terribly far away...suddenly Echo remembered the most vital element that she'd added in Fidelio's world beside the villian himself. Erin. Where had she gone? Was she still even alive, after the nightmareish reality that Echo had forced her to live?
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Posted: Thu Jul 07, 2005 7:43 am
Guilt filled every corner of her mind, taking over her thoughts and abusing her to tears. Even if her characters hadn't truly been real to her, existing only inside her journal and her thoughts...they HAD existed. Why had she planned such twisted plots for them to carry out? How could she have revelled in Erin's fear, waiting so impatiently for her inevitable end? What part of her could have been heartless enough to spend her time ruining the future of an innocent girl?
Before long, Echo was positive that she was not worthy of possessing life...even in the empty world that she was now forced to survive in. Lost in her misery, Echo stumbled blindly through the forest, oblivious to the other beings watching fearfully from their dwellings in the shadows. Self pitying tears flowing from her eyes, she continued to speed through the clumps of trees and bushes stretching on into oblivion. As time passed she began to lose her grip on reality, refusing to stop and face the world that Fidelio had so painstakingly transported her to. His world no longer felt like a dream she was entrapped in...it felt unbelievably, painfully real. She hadn't been aware that she'd given any of her fantasy worlds nearly as much thought as it appeared she'd given Fidelio's.
Finally, as the sun began to hide more fully in the cover of the treetops, Echo forced herself to bring her numb body to a stop. Breathing hard, she let herself crumple to the ground. As she collapsed, she heard the thin blanket of dried leaves rip and crinkle in protest to the weight of her body. For a moment, she was reminded of the thin piece of paper laid so careflly on her pillow just two nights before. Now, after it was too late to matter, se finally knew what he'd been trying to tell her.
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