Here is my entry for the Midsummer Night’s Dream writing competition. Just a bit of fun, 400 words exactly! I had a great time writing this, although trimming it from 600 to 400 words was a soul-destroying experience. After the contest is over, I might include the longer version here. I’d like to do more with this idea….
Lilith writhed in her bed, unable to cope with the false sense of tranquillity that came with midsummer night. She couldn’t handle the clash of night and day, two extreme opposites merging together in some sort of unnatural embrace. It wasn’t just the fact that it was brighter at night, or warmer. It was the awful realisation that there were fewer shadows to hide the creatures of the night. To Lilith, midsummer was Hell.
She rolled out of bed and walked over to the window, gazing out at the colourful grounds of her father’s stately home.
And then her heart lurched.
Not too far from the flower bed was her young brother, Oscar, rolling about in the grass. Lilith, thinking of the danger, fled into the garden.
She moved towards Oscar, hissing his name into the night. The young boy either ignored her or didn’t hear. As she neared him, her eyes caught sight of something that made her blood run cold.
A pair of long, red wings slowly blossomed from a rose. At first, they seemed like part of the flower, until the creature they were attached to emerged. It had the body of a peculiar looking young woman, the size of a doll, with pure white skin, eyes a burnt orange, and a set of the sharpest, nastiest teeth Lilith had ever seen.
The fairy glided down from the flower and crawled, cat-like, towards Oscar.
Instinctively, Lilith reached down and grabbed a large rock. She took aim, ready to throw, when a deep cry smashed the silence.
She dropped the rock as a set of hands spun her around. She faced her father.
“Darling, you were sleep-walking again!”
“No!” she cried, trying to break free, “Look, it’s Oscar!”
Lilith managed to escape her father’s grasp, and turned back to the flower bed. Neither Oscar nor fairy were anywhere to be seen.
“Lilith, Oscar’s in bed. I just checked on him. Come on, let’s get you back inside, honey.”
“Dad, I’m eighteen year’s old -”
“- and it’s not safe out here at night! You might have slipped into the pond!”
Lilith allowed her father to lead her back inside, but as she glanced back over her shoulder, she could have sworn that she saw a set of red wings folding themselves back inside the heart of a rose…