[Fireheart]: 318.Short Stories.Tal-Inri

This is a longer short story (bordering on novel) which I wrote for my Creative Writing class. My teacher wanted a fantasy story that was 15 pages in length- I gave him forty something. Oops. Oh well. But that is my excuse for the somewhat rushed ending. Perhaps I will go back and fix it if I am graced with free time. I decided to post it in sections due to its length.

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I ran. There was nothing else for me to do- nowhere else to go but into the forest. A thousand thoughts running through my mind, buzzing, dizzying- like a swarm of angry bees. I was livid, fuming, but I couldn’t stand and fight.
Coward… I thought to myself. My mother was the one person on the planet who knew exactly how to cut through my iron resolve to the tender heart within; again, like so many other times, she sent me flying into the forest, tears pouring from my eyes. I was never good enough. It was always “Jenna, you need to do better at…” or “Jenna, your grades seem to be suffering… bring them up, or else…” I never met her expectations.
So I just ran. I didn’t know where I was going. I had already passed my usual stopping point by the fire-berried bittersweet vines, and I was too deep in the woods to even care how lost I was. I must have made quite a sight- brown hair catching the light to reveal flaming red, chocolate eyes overflowing with tears, cheeks flaming from heated anger and frustration. I began to slow down as my anger faded, something I attributed to the increasing distance from home.
As I became aware of my surroundings, the grey sky that gathered storm clouds like a cloak became most noticeable. I slowed to a trot and squinted up. Rain was surely on the way, and judging from the black clouds piling in what I was pretty sure was the east, a thunderstorm was growing.
Tears blurred my vision once more and spilled down my cheeks like a hot waterfall. I impatiently wiped them away, tired of them. Some people cried until they had no tears left; I knew that I could continue crying for hours without stopping. I was an unrelinquishing fountain of tears. 
I looked down at myself, in an effort to stem my weeping. My tie-dyed tank top was soaked with sweat, and my worn jeans were torn and covered in dirt, as well as bristling with thorns. The pain they caused only added to my agitation, but instead of doing anything rash I smiled bitterly and reached down to pluck them from my pants. As this process was being carried out, I began to observe my new environment.
I looked around myself. I was at the edge of an unfamiliar field, tall green grass swaying gently, and some variety of tiny white wildflowers peeking from between many blades of grass. Black-eyed susans also showed their happy faces. Behind me were the deep, dark woods. But what was across the grassy expanse drew me right across it, paying no heed to the little wild flowers that were crushed by my battered work boots as I strode purposefully to that place.
I stopped, breathing deeply, and slowly raised my gaze upwards. I was in the shadow of the largest oak tree I had ever set eyes on. Its massive branches soared far above the branches of any other tree I had seen in the forest; its mighty trunk was at least three times as wide as I was tall. The leaves were massive, and due to the light of the day cast an ethereal green glow across the ground and my skin. At my feet, gnarled, twisted roots extended far from its trunk, seeking moisture in the rich meadow soil. 
But the most interesting part of this tree was the carving in the trunk. At exactly eye level for me, what appeared to be a Celtic tree of life, a pagan symbol, was carved into the bark. It was extremely intricate, and the twisting patterns seemed to be made of two serpent-like creatures woven together. No, not serpents- dragons. Their wings fanned out to either side of the design. 
In the very center of the pagan-tree, where its two main branches met, there was an empty circle, which seemed alarmingly bare. Almost on impulse, I reached out and put my hand there. I felt a flash of heat and pulled my hand back immediately. I knew I had just imagined it- but how curious. I turned and sat beneath the carving in the accommodating nest of roots at the base of the tree. 
While I had been examining the tree, rain had started falling, and now it began to pick up. Beneath the tree, I was completely dry, and judging from the thickness of the leaves I felt I would remain that way. Thunder rumbled in the distance.
I suddenly felt very sleepy… I was drifting, when I saw the little flitting lavender light above my head, glowing softly. I thought sleepily, Faery…Before I could make sense of this irrational thought, I felt a burning flare of intense pain in my right hand, the one with which I had touched the pattern. It traveled up my arm and settled in my shoulder blade, growing to excruciation. Before I could cry out, it vanished abruptly; and then, sleep hit me like a solid wall, and I was engulfed by blackness.