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[samanthahathaway]

Untitled

Part 2

Her breathe was shaky as she stepped onto the stool. She looked around the room. Her work, her soul shattered and scattered amongst every page. She thought of everything she had to live for. And everything she did not. She swallowed. Tentatively placing the noose around her neck with barely the pads of her fingers. She swallowed again. Her mind blank now. Only one point to focus on. Only one appointment to keep. She closed her eyes. Letting her fingers slip from the noose, down to the lapels of her jacket where they clung with desperate white fists and a grit that soaked through her body to her jaw. Her clenched jaw. And with a flick of her foot she relaxed. 

-S.Hathaway-

[samanthahathaway]

Untitled

Part 1

Piles upon piles of books stood, scattered around the room. Pages upon pages, tacked to the walls, floors, strewn over every surface. Each one tattooed with spidery black ink. Words dripping from every corner, every space holding a name, a face, a story. The unimaginable chaos of creation and hanging in the centre of it all, a body. Unwashed. Unkept. Pale grey and blue with wide unseeing eyes and invisible lips, parted just ever so slightly. 

-S.Hathaway-

[samanthahathaway]

Boy

There was a hush and a rustle, and a gentle breeze from the South which always signified new life. Leaves fell, as leaves do, though the sweet early summer made them green and fresh and their fall more of a tumble. I sighed, feeling the little toes scrunch and hold and release. There was always a pause, the intake and holding of the breath before they relaxed. It was a familiar sight. I felt the roots move, the branches both reaching for him and pulling themselves away; maybe with a little light he would feel better. But then they rarely feel fear when they are so young, unlike adults, they didn’t fight the transition; they hadn’t learnt to yet. First foot forward, then the second, twirling, looking up and around in a dance repeated by all those before him. His grip loosened, instead of arms clutching tightly fingers held delicately, playing with the fur. He can’t be any older than 3. I sigh again, the breeze disturbing his hair slightly. His eyes began searching. Although every tree and trunk and leaf and cell oozed the peace he felt over his soul it never stopped them looking out for loved ones. Loved ones or angels or the God that ‘good Christian men’ had promised. Although for this little one it was more instinct than promises. More steps forward now, light and easy, not the caution of the wary or the sureness of the ignorant. Thankfully they don’t feel the pain here, he would never have been able to walk on those broken and twisted legs…

‘We’re lost’

‘We’re not lost, we’re just… going on an adventure’

‘Through the Highlands? At night? In the rain?’

‘Through the Highlands, at night, in a car, in the rain.’

Laughter

I’m glad its sunny, I always think I look my best in the sunshine, and I like to look my best, especially for the little ones…

‘Why don’t we turn back? Its dark, its late, I’m sure the they will understand.’

‘And tell we got lost in our own back garden?’

…

‘Ok, let me turn around’

His eyes reflected the little life he had lived, his parent’s happiness, his first smile, his first laugh, steps, word... With each step they faded. Just a little. He kept going…

‘Hey, Jose… yeah it’s me… no we are ok, but the weather is getting worse… flooding?... no we didn’t know, we haven’t gotten that far yet… Well that’s why I’m ringing actually… yeah, no the weather is too bad and the roads are getting more dangerous, we are having to turn back, I’m really sorry… oh he’s ok, good as gold, aren’t you baby? He’s just sat in the back with his wee teddy… no we thought he would fall asleep too, but no…’ Laughter ‘…ah well, another time… yeah speak to you tomorrow, bye’

…

‘Thank you’

‘What was I supposed to say? We got lost in our own back garden?’

Laughter

He was reaching the clearing, not much further and he would reach the little brook with the fish and beyond that the pool. I hope he likes the fish…

‘It’s getting worse…’

‘I know, don’t worry darling’

He’s sat now, his little toes splashing in the water. His laughter is a noise not often heard here, it shakes the air, making everything, everyone stop and listen…

‘Oh God… Danny!’

‘Shit’

A Scream

Dusk came and went, and the darkness settled, not in that horrible foreboding way that darkness does sometimes, but with the warmth and clarity of a midsummer’s night. The stars were beautiful and bright, though the moon was late, as usual, she’s never on time. He was tired, and sad. Feet still in the water, the fish had begun to nibble at his toes in hopes of urging him on, but he didn’t see or feel them. Instead his mind prodded and poked itself, confused, trying to remember…

‘Danny?!’

…

Silence

The gentle drops of rain stir him from his sleep. We had talked about it at length while he slept. The rain needed to rain however, I argued, was it truly necessary for to be a deluge? No. So we agreed a little light rain to help our traveller on his way. He stood, smiling his big smile at the rain before running off. Skipping, jumping, twirling in the wet mud, heading closer and closer to the pool, his mind becoming more blank and clear.

The teddy watched him leave…

‘Oh God. No! No!’

Sobbing

The rain couldn’t hold back any longer and it was steadily getting heavier. He was starting to shiver. The pool, however, was warm. Kept warm by some magic beyond my understanding and somehow he knew this, somehow they always know. He was hesitating. In the intermittent sunlight his face was clear, dark hair, dark eyes, dark skin, the picture of beauty…

‘Is he ok?! Is my baby ok?!’

Hands, gentle and rough.

Pain

Sobbing

One step, two step…

Pressure and pain  

1. 2. 3. 4. 5. 6…

One toe. One foot. No more shivering now. His wariness slipping away. His memory slipping away…

25. 26. 27. 28. 29. 30.

Breathe. Breathe

Sobbing

A Scream

The ripples stopped and steadied, the teddy faded and there was a hush and a rustle, a gentle breeze from the South that always signified new life.

Silence.

-S.Hathaway-

[samanthahathaway]

Blank

Without rhyme or reason she found herself drawn to the bookmaker. Everything about him made her recoil, from his ashen hair to his thin lipped smile. And yet, everyday she would linger as she passed his store, hoping for a glimpse of his craggy hands or withered face. She swore to herself everyday that she would take a different route, that she would bow her head, but everyday she would find herself walking a little slower. Taking a little longer. Until one day she felt the invisible hand not only slowing her but pushing her gently.

With a tinkle of the doorbell she was brought to her senses, but it was too late. She felt his washed out eyes and crumpled face. He didn't say a word, his quiet patience overwhelming. Slowly, footsteps echoing, she began walking between the shelves, reluctantly breathing in the scent of the paper and the glue. She resolved herself to buy a single book. She pulled a book from the shelf, and with dismay found it empty, each blank page followed by the next. Her fingers, light on the fabric cover, felt no inscription, no title. Softly she placed it back, walking her fingers over the top of the other books standing upright on the shelf. Green. Blue. Grey. Blank. Bank. Blank. She hoped he couldn't sense her panic. ‘They’re journals,’ she thought, ‘awaiting the mundane tales of everyday life’. She could easily buy one and give it as a gift, to her father perhaps. Yes. With a single sigh she selected a book with a faded red cover and opened it. Although it too was blank, she felt it coming to life in her hands, words seeping from her skin, her mind numbing, echoing, fading. ‘Yes,’ she thought, ‘her father would love this’ 

The bookmakers gaze shifted from his empty shop to the window where a young, clean shaven man was walking by slightly slower than everyone else, gazing with a sense of compulsion that defied all rhyme or reason. 

-S.Hathaway-  

[samanthahathaway]

A City in the Wood of a Tree

It truly was a sight to behold 

The City in the in the wood of a tree

On the side of a hill 

In the valley of greenery 

Steeped in towers 

Its silence deafening 

It’s hush tangible

-S.Hathaway-