Short Story: Beauty

The stars are twinkling away at me from the heavens. Not a cloud in sight. The big round full moon smiling down at me, lends me its light. I sigh. Not with sadness but with content. This is how it should be. I roll over on to my front, the smooth grass tickling my skin as i do  so. I am in a clearing. The most beautiful thing you have ever seen and that’s only in the dark. Imagine the sight of this in the glorious sunlight. It would stop my heart with its pure beauty. Perfectly circular in shape. Tall proud trees creating this happy ring. In the very centre, a pond. How deep, I know not. The surface glistening like an expertly cut diamond. I stare in wonder. It lies undisturbed by not even a faint ripple. Smooth as a looking glass. There is no wind here. There is no need for it. Wind would break the magic. I slowly stand and am suddenly surrounded by a multitude of curious fireflies. Like tiny elegant fairies they dance in the air around my body. I laugh. The sound as wonderful as any song I have heard. Was that me? I laugh again to myself. Yes! The magic of the clearing that brings out the beauty within.


I stand by the edge of the pond now. It seems to be calling me in. Inviting me to wrap myself in the icy tendrils of its watery arms. I smile. I take off my pure white gown of silk. I hesitate but suddenly I am overcome with confidence and I dive gracefully into the depths of the pool. There’s no cold and no warmth, just the feeling of cool silk enveloping every part of my exposed body. My long red hair trails magnificently behind me as I swim around. I feel at peace and at home. Finally happy with who I am and how I look.


I then hear a voice. A beautiful voice. The sound fills my heart with joy and longing. The voice starts to get louder and then I feel shaking. Suddenly my wonderful world shatters! I close my eyes tight shut. When I open them again I see a face. It’s the warm loving face of my mother. I look around and to my dismay I am back in my bedroom. The clock reads seven a.m. I groan. School. I’m back to the same plain, boring, ugly me. I have no wondrous voice or flowing red hair. Only a short ginger curtain hangs from my scalp and my face is hidden behind thick round glasses. Back to myself. Back to the bullies. Back to the hate.

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