Ascension

A young woman running from trouble finds escape.

Ascension

Looking fervently over her shoulder as she turned the corner, Sienna wrapped her arm around her middle pressing her hand against the wound in her side.  Some distance behind her, she heard heavy footsteps pounding down the street.  Blood seeped between her fingers as she staggered down the darkened alleyway.  ‘Please don’t let this be a dead end. Please don’t let this be a dead end,’ she chanted in her mind as she went.  She turned and faced the street and bent over, she backed down the alley, carefully picking her way.   She tried to keep her labored breathing hushed, but to her ears, each gasp came out as loud as a car air conditioner turned to high.  The pounding footsteps on the street quieted, now the only pounding she heard was her heart hammering against her rib cage.

“Little gi-irl.  Come out, come out, wherever you are.  I’m not done playing with you.”  The man’s voice came in a sing-song falsetto.  There was a pregnant pause and then his voice came again, this time harsh and grating, “I will find you, B***h.”

Sienna bit down on a whimper and pressed further back into the shadows in the alley.  Her eyes darted side to side, searching for a door or a way out.  About halfway down the alley, she came to an involuntary stop.  There on the wall, seeming to glow with incandescent light, was a painting of a staircase.  The staircase rose from the bottom of the wall and ascended, turning towards the left and trailing off into the far distance.  At the top of the staircase was a star which seemed to be the source for the light on the wall.  As if in a trance, Sienna approached the wall.  The distant star beckoned to her, tugging on her soul, urging her forward, away from the pain, fear and loneliness; offering her a home.  Her hand reached out gingerly and unexpectedly met with smooth, solid granite.

So overwhelming was the feeling that the painting was real, that she could walk up those stairs, that disappointment surged through her body, and she sank to her knees.  Her hand trailed across the flat surface.  Resting her forehead against her hand, she felt pain knife through her heart and head. 

Silently sobbing, a tear leaked through her tightly squeezed eyes and onto her hand.  The sound of footsteps at the entry of the alley had her eyes popping open. Her head whipped towards the sound, her hands braced against the wall.  She could see his Cheshire cat grin as he stalked toward her, taking his sweet time, knowing he had her trapped; knowing this alley was a dead end.

That one tear rolled gently off of her hand and met the wall.  At the touch of the tear’s caress, the wall faded and pitching forward, she found herself sprawled upon the staircase in the painting.    All was motionless.  There was no breeze; it was as though time stood still, suspended.  It was almost tangible, this feeling.  Time, space and sound seemed altered.  At first, through her fear and surprise, she could hear nothing.  Then faintly, ever so softly, the whispered song of the surrounding stars wrapped around her like a warm cloak.  She was enveloped in a sense of peace.  Feelings of love, goodness and hope coursed through her.  She felt cared for, safe, cherished.

Sienna rose to her feet. White, diaphanous fabric swirled about her ankles, and she looked down.  Gone were the rags that had grown too small, leaving her skinny arms and legs exposed.  In their place was a beautiful, sleeveless gown.  Her hand involuntarily traced the neckline, which was low and daring.  A wave of self-consciousness swept over her, but quickly passed.  She was no longer a little girl.  Her hand moved along the fabric.  It was softer than silk.  It was as smooth as water.  Her golden brown hair was bound in an intricate design of braids and curls piled on top of her head.  A medallion of gold rested on her forehead. Her hand brushed her side; there was no wound, no pain.  Her skin was now clean, void of the dirt from living on the street, fending for herself.  Its paleness shone like moonlight, luminescent.

She felt as if she were reborn.  A great metamorphosis, both physical and mental, had taken place.  A new chance of life had presented itself.  For better or for worse-no, it couldn’t be for worse, she thought, she climbed the stairs with a calm steadiness. 

In time, she looked behind her, the stairs trailed off into nothingness far below her.  There was no sign of the wall through which she had come.  No sign of the man who had attacked her.  Taking a deep breath, she continued her ascent.

The closer to the top of the stairs she got, the purer the song of the stars became.  It was the sound of water gurgling over rocks in a stream, the sound of the breeze rustling through the leaves on a warm summer day, the sound of a sleeping baby’s breathing, the sound of the gentle fall of rain.  It took hold of her heart and gave it wings.  The light reached out and enfolded her without ever getting too intense to bear.  The soft glow didn’t harm her eyes and she had no need to shield them.

The stairs stretched ahead for what seemed like eternity.  She may have climbed for minutes or hours or even days.  It didn’t matter.  She came to a large, rose marble landing.  Stretching high above her were Corinthian columns.  They stood as sentries in front of a vast expanse of marble wall.  She gaped in awe at the exquisite beauty.  She approached the wall with confidence.  The stone slid away as if she had commanded it.  She stepped through the wall and into a beautiful garden of sculpted bushes and elaborate fountains.  The sparkling water of the fountains bubbled with laughter and the purest joy.  Sienna walked forward between the bushes; her bare feet padding softly on the thick carpet of grass…

 

 

Author's Note

This is a revamped version of a story I wrote long ago. Is the ending okay the way it is or should I go back and show the attacker in the alleyway at the end of the story? I welcome all thoughts, ideas and critiques. Thanks!

Reviews

[Ian Robinson]

This is the type of story I like. There's definitely a lot of room for expanding and developing, maybe show a bit about how the situation occurred in the first place, would be interesting. It reminded me a bit of The Lovely Bones, or even Ghost. Good stuff :-)

[Sharon Kim]

Thank you, Ian. I could definitely see adding at the beginning of the story to develop the characters more. I actually have another version of this story that has a different ending. I'll try to add that. I'd love to see what you think. Thank you for your comments!

[Ian Robinson]

Excellent. Let the characters run free, i'm sure they have a lot more to tell :-)

[Dave Ziegert]

Reminds me of Heroes of Zara Keep for some reason. I like it as is, but you could really expand it, too.

[Sharon Kim]

Oooh! I had forgotten about that book! You're right-yanked from their old lives upon death and whisked to another world! In this story, I was thinking heaven, but it could easily be another world!
Thanks for reading it!