by Brianna G. Harte
I was inclined to do it again. It was so natural like I was born to do it. Or rather, like I’d been doing it all my life. I must have had a lot of fun before I was taken by the dwarves. The thought depressed my mood. Why did they have to steal this away from me? I shook it out of my head. No. They’re not going to take it away from me again. Not while I’m in this world.
I started leaping from tree to tree, initially just missing the branch I was aiming for each time I tried, but as I got the hang of it, I was able to make it to each tree. In the midst of my discovery and joy, the wind picked up, strong enough to push me off to the side. I lost my footing. I turned my head, hoping there was something I could grab onto. I was going to be too low to catch the lower branch of the tree I was headed towards. There was no time to turn around to grab the tree. There didn’t seem to be any options. I collided with the tree, hard enough for me to not be able to think for a few seconds, let alone move. The ground was rapidly approaching.
Not again! I wish that Torret was around, I thought seconds before the impending impact. The idea of him being nearby was like thinking that anytime now someone was going to rescue me and all the other people who were essentially prisoners in that dark hospital. Well, maybe it’s more likely but still. I shouldn’t hold my breath. I made a quick decision before I became a pancake. I was going to try to save myself for once. Torret wasn’t always going to be there. The problem was time. I had only thirty or so feet remaining. I didn’t have time to waste on thinking. Instincts that the dwarves apparently couldn’t take from me were what I had to use. As I hit the ground, I rotated my body so that my hands touched first but didn’t stay there. Instead, I rolled off them, pushing off with them. The landing wasn’t exactly graceful, but I survived. I could ignore all of the dirt that now decorated my clothes.
“Quite the performance,” a familiar female voice noted.
Copyright © 2018 Brianna G. Harte. All rights reserved.