Fan Fiction ❯ The White Rice Paper ❯ chapter three ( Chapter 3 )

Chapter Three

I awoke breathing hard and covered with sweat, I just couldn't bring myself to sleep anymore. Judging by the sun I had more than two hours to get ready and I was sure I'd spend none of it eating. I decided to dress and comb my hair, I'd finish early and perhaps I'd have time to go to the riverbank and watch the fireflies begin their dance.

I unbound my hair and picked up my comb running it through the long silky locks. I used to have servants to perform this task for me, but when I started to do jobs on a regular basis I dismissed them. That and I couldn't stand to be around other people any more. I did my jobs and then I went off on my own. Everyone knew not to bother me. I very seldom spoke to anyone I didn't have, and even then I said as little as possible. I hate what I've become…

I've been told that I'm a beautiful girl. I just can't seem to bring myself to believe it. It doesn't matter how I look it's not beautiful, and I know it. When they tell me how beautiful I am I can see the truth they feel in their eyes. They believe I'm beautiful. Why can't I?

I glance over to where I've left my sandals, kicked off in a careless fashion. They are so small. My feet are as tiny as a child's, and the way I kicked them off and left them to lie there; they appear to belong to a child as well.

I gaze at my sandals thinking that I am a child. I'm very small, not much taller than a ten year old, and my hair is the same way it was when I was only 7, it's been twelve years and the only things about me that seemed to have grown are my cynicism, my vocabulary and my self-deprecation.

I'm the same as I was years ago. I still love flowers and plants, fireflies enchant me with their dances, and listening to the frogs sing in the spring time calms my nerves. I knew always that some things about me would never change, and indeed when I was about eleven I wanted nothing at all to change. Things did though. The way I acted changed, but not my tastes. I still love the color purple and lilies are my favorite flower, but I never picked them anymore. I couldn't bring myself to kill them. I kill so much as it is, I just couldn't bring myself to kill more things if I didn't have to. I was the same way about insects. I couldn't kill them. A bee stung me the other day I felt bad for it because it died and I survived.

I finished combing my hair and dressed quickly. I hurried out to the riverbank in silent feet. I had just over an hour to watch the fireflies and I wouldn't waste a moment of it.

I sat down with my back to a tree and watched the fireflies slowly come out for the night. One by one they would show up until their numbers multiplied into hundreds. I sat there and watched them dance with each other. I followed them with my eyes, their lights flashing and fading, flashing and fading flashing and fading in the muted light of dusk.

The breeze blew cool on my face and the riverbank smelled clean, there were not sounds except for the tree frogs and crickets singing in the night, looking for their true love, just as the fireflies were as they danced through the evening sky.

It was almost time for me to leave. I didn't want to. I wanted to melt into the night, become the night. I wanted to stay forever and watch this dance. Watch the fireflies move to the music that the crickets and the tree frogs make.

I imagined myself melting away like sugar in the rain, becoming smaller and smaller and then I was so small you could barely see me. But there was a light, I was the light, and I danced. I moved to the music that the crickets and the frogs made, they sang for their mates, and they sang for me as I moved in and out flashing and fading, flashing and fading into the dusk.