Dejana's Writing

an original piece by Dejana Talis
-not to be used without permission-

This was a freewrite exercise, written on the spur of the moment without planning or focused thought.

The power flowed through her like the lightning of a storm, igniting within her veins a fire that pulsed from her toes to her fingertips to the ends of her hair. It was beautiful in its purity, the strength of the ages filling her body with an electric power unlike anything she had felt before. It was beautiful.

She turned toward the forest and it responded, trees bending in the wake of her energy, loose leaves abandoning their branches and swirling around her in a malestrom of firey orange and red. The full moon shone overhead, lending its blessing to her work, granting her its cool light to see by.

It was all so clear in her mind. The place where he lay, blood staining his clothes, the breath of his life draining out of him into the cold dark ground. There wasn't much time. She focused her effort, the energy she had gathered flowing down her arms and out her fingertips, the power of her life force draining from her body and into his. The pure stuff of the universe filled the open wound and took shape, knitting muscle and bone and blood vessels back together. The chalice that held his soul captive became whole once more.

It was finished. He breathed, and so did she. Her arms dropped to her sides, the energy ceased to flow, and the world became as normal once more. The forest that had lent her its strength became again inanimate, motionless, devoid of the obvious life it had so recently shaken to the roots with.

She stumbled forward. She was weary, dizzy, but that would soon pass. She fell to her knees in the grass beside him and reached forward as his eyelashes twitched on his cheeks. He would wake, he would live.

But it was she who awoke. Her eyes blinked, confused, in the bright artificial light from flourescent bulbs. The room took shape around her, with its uncomfortable chairs and pretty pictures meant to distract its occupants from the real reason they were here but always failing. It was the forest that was the dream, and this waiting room the reality.

She was still at the hospital, numb from her toes to her fingertips to the ends of her hair. He was still dead, and she could not help him.

The End
This piece of original fiction is the sole property of Dejana Talis.
Contact Dejana Sites Writing Artwork Graphics Videos Awards About Blog Links Main