So I wanted to write something again...

Whenever I write something it somehow turns out to be in second person in present tense.... So here's what I wrote this morning:

You look up into the dark purple sky. Not a single light can be seen. Not a single sound can be heard. Out of the silence the sudden waves of a cold wind come out. They start slapping your cheeks, tangling your neatly braided hair. You realise that you can’t cover yourself with anything. Your feet are numb and frozen. Your arms are covered with goose bumps. Your backpack seems heavier with every step you make.

You stop and stare into the darkness of the forest in front of you. Suddenly, you can see a light. Hidden in the bushes and the tall trees it flickers as if telling you to come closer. Not thinking about the next step, you hurry to the light. As you come closer you realise that it is not a fire or a lamp. The light glows and flickers in the light shades of purple. You stop. The light is about a metre away from you. Thoughts fill your mind. Could this place be safe? Should you trust the beautiful light?

The questions cannot be answered for there’s a figure in front of you. It is too late to turn back. It is too late to think over what you have done. You stand there, frozen, as the dark figure comes closer and closer.

You see a girl, just like you, examining you with her curious eyes. There’s something unusual about her. She doesn’t seem human. She’s wearing a green, strangely textured dress and no shoes. Her eyes are deep and large. Her hair is neither curly nor straight. It is multicoloured and... It glows in the dark.

It takes you a moment to understand what is going on.

The two of you are standing in the dark forest studying each other with eyes large of astonishment. She puts her hand on your shoulder, as if testing if you’re real, and turns her head slightly. You touch her hand.

Moments after moments, you just stand there holding each other’s hands. Afraid to breath or move.

The girl is the first one to break the silence.

“Who are you?” she asks.

You don’t know how to exactly answer her question. Is she asking you for your name? Is she trying to figure out where you’re from? You decide not to say anything, but ask her another question.

“What’s your name?”

“My name?” the girl says.

“Yes,” you reply, “your name?”

“My name?”

It seemed like both of you were talking in absolutely different languages. Simple things that were normal to you were hard to understand for her. You decide to rephrase the question.

“What do people call you here?”

“There are no people here,” is the answer.

You think about what she has said, trying to bring meaning to her words.

“Sit down,” she tells you. “And tell me about your world.”

She takes your hand and forces you to the ground.

The light still glows.

“There are no people....” you whisper quietly, not able to form a proper question or sentence.

“You look so lost. What’s the matter?” The girl takes your hand. “Are you hungry? Do you want some fruit?”

You realise that you are quite hungry indeed and reply, “Thanks! I brought some food with me.”

You open your backpack, take out an orange and put it on the ground. The girl stares at it as if never seen anything like that before.

“Do you want some?” you ask politely.

Without saying anything the girl takes the orange and examines it. “Is it edible?” she asks.

You nod, thinking how strange it is that she doesn’t know what oranges are.

The girl bites the orange, without peeling it and says in disgust, “I don’t think I like it.”

“You have to peel it first,” you explain and take the orange from her. You see that the marks she left on the orange are very unusual. It doesn’t look like it has been bitten by human teeth.

Having peeled the orange you give it back to the girl. She devours it quickly.

“I never had anything like this before!” she exclaims. “It’s sweet, but kind of sour too. Where did you get it from?”

You’re not so sure what to say. Does she mean the name of the shop you got the orange from? You decide to say, “This one store near my house.”

The girl looks at you with misunderstanding. You get a feeling that she didn’t understand anything of what you have said.

“Never mind then,” you mumble.

You take out another orange and give it to her. She peels it carefully like a little child and gives a half of it to you.

“Where did you come from?” she asks. Again, her question seems strange to you. She didn’t ask “Where do you come from” or “Where are you from”. The way she phrased it is very odd.

Before you could open your mouth she suddenly decided to answer the question herself. “I know where you came from!” she exclaimed. “You’re from Nafricia!”  

You think it is better to go along with it and nod.

“I heard that people from Nafricia are very nice people!” she continued. “And that they have strange textured hair and coloured eyes like you!”

“You have coloured eyes too, do you,” you ask her, still not quite sure what she is on about.

“Yes, but they change colour,” she answered. After a long pause the girl asks another strange question. “Can I touch your hair?”

You are surprised, but seeing nothing wrong with it, you unbraid your hair and say “yes”.