Timeweaver

It wasn’t long before she was there, that dark place, the world between where dreams are made and demons prowl, back in the room where it all began, back in the room that had taught her how to look inside herself and into the worlds beyond.
Yes, there she was, looking down on  her life and hardly recognising the girl she was before the ravages of time had taken their toll.

She watched intrigued as her younger self lay back in the chair, remembered how her eyes had felt so heavy , how the sleep that had evaded her for so long fought to take control.
She watched how she’d sat all those years ago, waiting, saying nothing, her feet dancing to some unknown tune while her mind wandered; the wounds beneath her bandaged arms still sore;the burning sensation as she’d scratched at the broken skin strangely soothing. How she wished she could go back.

It was then the clock on the mantle chimed once more, loud, furiously hypnotic.tick-tock, tick-tock it sang, time moving forwards, backwards, across time and away into the deepest darkest depths of her existence.
All around her the room began to crumble, collapsing in on itself as she struggled to concentrate, to keep control.

But it was no use, time was stripping back the years, the strength of a bond too strong to be broken forcing an old soul to reunite one final time with the scared little girl she’d left in that place all those years ago.

To become one again.

Reah Roberts ©2010

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