The Girl and the Silver Hare

#1
A bravehearted little fly was whirring around the last piles of snow, proving that winter's desperate attempts to linger were carelessly shoved away by the clear weather and quickly ascending sun. The grass had already started to grow, and spring had never seemed so green and so beautiful. Carefully watching the tiny drops, which seemed to float upon the surface of the growing leaves, she couldn't recall any day that had been this beautiful. Actually, of all her five years of living, life had never seemed more sweet and cheerful.

As Alana put the little wood bucket down into the water, the reflecting surface revealed her pretty face, surrounded by long, shimmering blonde hair with tiny curls at the end - which she countless times had tried to straighten out, but somehow always came back. Her eyes were green as the brightest, sparkling emeralds, and when she moved, her gracious movements avoided stepping on anything she might hurt, may it be flower or insect. Alana's tiny hands tightened around the bucket handle, and with happiness only a five year old could understand, she turned away from the small lake and strolled determined towards the wooden house.

It was a day much like all the days in the previous week; sun shining unprevented by any cloud, giving a constant hint of summer. The chilly breezes made the perfect balance between hot and cold, giving Alana the chance to sit in her white summer dress on her favorite rock, surrounded only by trees and an occasional starling visiting, early this year, from warmer climates. She loved sitting on especially this stone, because here she could be all alone, undisturbed and only admiring and longing for the beauty of her surroundings. In the middle of all this thought and impression, a white doe revealed herself and quickly stepped into the grove. Alana observed the hare; the fur was so white Alana nearly mistook it for silver, and her eyes were so thoughtful that Alana thought they could belong to an old man - full of wisdom. Alana tried to meet the gaze of the hare, but it seemed impossible, and just as she was about to slither down from the rock to approach the hare, it fled into the safety of the forest.

Alana visited her precious rock everyday from then, hoping to meet the doe again. Using her velvet soft voice she called for it, but the hare would not give any sign of herself. Alana missed the presence of the hare, because she hadn't felt the same ever since it left. At the nights she couldn't sleep, she felt that sleeping was wasting of time and this restlessness kept her awake. But there was also something more, something she had problems putting words to.
"It's like I have a black thorn in my mind" she had whispered from her rock and into the forest, the day after, without calling for the hare this time. A slight rustling of branches disturbed the silence around the rock, and Alana was filled with hope of seeing her white-cloaked friend again. But out of the forest stepped no hare, but, rather contrary, a deer. The deer stepped only a few feet into the grove, and it watched her. Alana had seen deers come and go many times before in the forest, but this deer gazed at her, just as if it could see right into her soul. Alana felt better than ever, and she wanted to run and embrace the deer, but before she reached it, it had already disappeared within the depths of the forest.

Days rolled by, and the weather turned ugly. Rain pored down outside, but nothing prevented Alana from visiting her rock. She spent hours there everyday, hoping to see either the deer or the hare again. The itching in her mind had started again, worse than before, and only some days ago she had discovered a small bump on the back of her head. She had started to forget things she usually never missed, and the water bucket stood dry and empty by the side of her bed, longing for someone to fill it.

An especially grey day, Alana sat on her rock and tried to think about all the wonderful things she used to think about. However, the leaves, the water and all the smells of the forests couldn't drown the itching in her mind, and that made everything very hard. She struggled to channel her thoughts around the growing black thorn inside her - and as if that was not enough, the bump on the back of her head had grown bigger, and it stung when she touched it.

As more days passed, she stopped walking to her rock. The effort of opening her eyes and to tolerate the light itself was enough to exhaust her. The mind of the little girl was in poor condition, and all her happiness and childish joy for the world had resigned.
But one day the whirring of a lonely fly, trapped behind her bedroom window, wakened her. She watched it, and hour-by-hour the sound of the fly's desperate wings became more uneven. She wondered if a fly understood when its last minutes had come. Slowly the sound of wings faded away, and the dying fly stepped around on the sill, still searching for a way out. Alana rose up from the bed, and as she was opening the window, she noticed the bright, emerald looking eyes of the fly, before it took off.

The forthcoming night the pain in her head was worse than ever. Occasionally, she got bad cramps in her spine, and she was twisting around in her bed. She was scared. Her mind was dark with resignation, and she knew very well that she was the dying fly that she helped earlier, but there was nobody to open the window she was caught behind.

A tapping on her door told her that she was still conscious, but she couldn’t rise up from the bed to see who was there. She was so tired. The tapping continued, and suddenly the door handle moved, and the door opened without a sound. In came the white hare, as bright as earlier, almost glowing. Behind it followed the deer, and they both stood in the doorway, looking at her. She gazed back, and this time the hare's eyes met her. She rose up from the bed, so sure that she could embrace the hare - but as she approached it, it ran away. She lost her balance, and dropped towards the ground from mere exhaustion, but she didn't hit the ground; the deer was still there, and it caught her. She leaned on it, and they slowly started to move outside.

It was a very dark night, since there was no moon. Alana clung to the deer, as they slowly paced towards a light in front of them. The light was quick in movement, and the deer carried Alana steadily after it. It didn't take long before she reached a familiar place. The deer bent down, and Alana slid down from its back, hitting a surface she knew very well as her rock. The light, which had been the hare, crawled up to her chest. The soft, white fur touched her skin, and it soothed her. It felt like the back of her head was exploding, but she also knew she finally could rest this night. Alana heard the hooves of the deer, and she knew it was watching - keeping her safe from all the dangers in the world, knowing that she would always be in the heart of the forest.
The dark thorn in her mind unfolded, and everything was darkness except for the bright, white light the hare emitted, lying tight up to her chest.

On a big stone in the middle of the forest laid a lifeless girl's body with a tumor on her head. An almost magic, white light surrounded her. Beside the girl stood a hare and a deer, sorrowfully watching over the body of the sick girl - regretting all the unfairness the world brought upon the most innocent sense of life. A snowflake hit the ground, and a very breavehearted fly with incredibly green eyes took off from the big stone in the forest, knowing that someone finally had opened its window.
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Re: The Girl and the Silver Hare

#3
Halfhigh wrote:The girl and the silver hare
red by Gryphis the Story Teller (go to ~2:25:00h) - 11 minutes

http://www.twitch.tv/alfhigh/b/555225034

Stunning performance for a stunning story!
Wonderful, thanks for choosing this old story for the storytime.
Funny feeling hearing something you have written yourself read by someone else, thanks a lot Gryphis, you are a great reader.

Keep it up!
For future RPG readings I will suggest this piece, written by Meriado.
http://redrose-guild.com/library/storie ... is_Own_Hat

Best regards,
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