Page 124
Story: Akarnae
“I know this seems like an odd request, but do you mind if I take a nap? It’s just… I’m so tired, and everywhere else is so noisy…”
“Of course, you poor dear,” the woman said, surprising her. Maybe strange people arrived in her bedroom more often than Alex presumed. “Here, let me help you.”
The woman bent down to help Alex with her shoes before she pulled back the covers on the bed. She was so kind and caring that Alex felt tears come to her eyes.
“Thank you so much,” she whispered, her voice catching. She always became emotional when she was tired, and this woman’s compassion was overwhelming.
“Don’t even mention it,” the lady said, tucking her in and tenderly brushing the hair away from her face. “Now, you just close your eyes and have a good rest while I sit and watch over you. You’re safe here. Sleep in peace, child.”
Alex tried to thank her again, but she couldn’t form the words as her eyes closed of their own accord. The repetitiveclick, click, clickof knitting needles and the lady’s quiet humming soon pulled her straight down into the deep sleep that she so desperately needed.
Forty
“Child.”
“Child?”
“Child, you need to wake up now.”
Someone was shaking Alex gently.
“Come, dear, you must awaken.”
The shaking increased and Alex couldn’t ignore it any longer. “Hmmm?”
“That’s it. Open your eyes.”
Alex did as she was asked but she couldn’t see much. Everything was completely dark except for a small light coming from a candle the woman held in her hand.
“You need to get up,” the woman said urgently.
Alex forced herself to sit up, and she pulled her shoes on before standing. Despite her difficulty waking, she felt so much better now than she had earlier.
“How long have I been asleep?” she asked, her voice groggy.
“Four turns of the hourglass,” the woman answered.
Four hours. That meant it was around seven o’clock. Her friends would be worried about her if she didn’t turn up for dinner soon.
“I should go,” Alex said. “Thank you, again—somuch—for the peace and quiet.”
She started walking over to where she’d stumbled out of the painting, looking for the exit point.
“Child, I think something is wrong,” the woman said fearfully.
Alex was about to respond when she looked at the candle again, their only source of light, and realised that the woman was right—somethingwaswrong. They were in a painting, a painting that captured a set of images in time forever. So why wasn’t the fireplace burning brightly anymore?
Dread welled up within Alex. “May I borrow your candle for a moment, please?”
The woman handed over the little flame and Alex held it up to the wall. The painting was still there, but it no longer showed the brightly lit foyer. The picture was completely black—a deep, smothering darkness, the likes of which Alex had only seen once before.
“No,” she gasped.
“What is it?” the woman asked in a trembling voice.
“Lockdown,” Alex whispered, horrified. It wouldn’t mean anything to a woman stuck in a painting, but it meant the world to Alex.Herworld.
“I have to go. Now.” She shoved the candle back into the woman’s hands and reached forward into the painting, feeling her world tilt and expand as she tumbled out the other side.
“Of course, you poor dear,” the woman said, surprising her. Maybe strange people arrived in her bedroom more often than Alex presumed. “Here, let me help you.”
The woman bent down to help Alex with her shoes before she pulled back the covers on the bed. She was so kind and caring that Alex felt tears come to her eyes.
“Thank you so much,” she whispered, her voice catching. She always became emotional when she was tired, and this woman’s compassion was overwhelming.
“Don’t even mention it,” the lady said, tucking her in and tenderly brushing the hair away from her face. “Now, you just close your eyes and have a good rest while I sit and watch over you. You’re safe here. Sleep in peace, child.”
Alex tried to thank her again, but she couldn’t form the words as her eyes closed of their own accord. The repetitiveclick, click, clickof knitting needles and the lady’s quiet humming soon pulled her straight down into the deep sleep that she so desperately needed.
Forty
“Child.”
“Child?”
“Child, you need to wake up now.”
Someone was shaking Alex gently.
“Come, dear, you must awaken.”
The shaking increased and Alex couldn’t ignore it any longer. “Hmmm?”
“That’s it. Open your eyes.”
Alex did as she was asked but she couldn’t see much. Everything was completely dark except for a small light coming from a candle the woman held in her hand.
“You need to get up,” the woman said urgently.
Alex forced herself to sit up, and she pulled her shoes on before standing. Despite her difficulty waking, she felt so much better now than she had earlier.
“How long have I been asleep?” she asked, her voice groggy.
“Four turns of the hourglass,” the woman answered.
Four hours. That meant it was around seven o’clock. Her friends would be worried about her if she didn’t turn up for dinner soon.
“I should go,” Alex said. “Thank you, again—somuch—for the peace and quiet.”
She started walking over to where she’d stumbled out of the painting, looking for the exit point.
“Child, I think something is wrong,” the woman said fearfully.
Alex was about to respond when she looked at the candle again, their only source of light, and realised that the woman was right—somethingwaswrong. They were in a painting, a painting that captured a set of images in time forever. So why wasn’t the fireplace burning brightly anymore?
Dread welled up within Alex. “May I borrow your candle for a moment, please?”
The woman handed over the little flame and Alex held it up to the wall. The painting was still there, but it no longer showed the brightly lit foyer. The picture was completely black—a deep, smothering darkness, the likes of which Alex had only seen once before.
“No,” she gasped.
“What is it?” the woman asked in a trembling voice.
“Lockdown,” Alex whispered, horrified. It wouldn’t mean anything to a woman stuck in a painting, but it meant the world to Alex.Herworld.
“I have to go. Now.” She shoved the candle back into the woman’s hands and reached forward into the painting, feeling her world tilt and expand as she tumbled out the other side.
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