“Just wait till you see it, it’s un-be-lieve-able!” Charlotte squealed.
Natalie lifted her arm and Charlotte brushed past, striding into the studio her heels clicking on the wooden floor. Charlotte threw a brown paper wrapped parcel onto the large cutting table where it landed with a soft thud. She raised one eyebrow. “Go on, open it.”
Natalie slid the parcel towards her and carefully slipped her fingertips under the sellotape. Soft silk satin with a detailed butterfly print nestled in the paper. The background was caramel, the butterflies a rich mixture of fruity reds, greens, purples and yellows. The surface gleamed.
“See. I told you.” Charlotte’s excitement was palpable.
“Do you want me to use it for the soft shawl collar blouse pattern we fitted the toile of last week or the neru collar design we made up in the cotton print fabric for your sister’s birthday party?”
“Oh definitely the shawl collar one.” Charlotte tapped the table top with her bright red acrylic finger nail.
“Okay, I’ll get to work. When do you need it by again?”
“Friday. I have work drinks and there’s a dishy new associate in my office I’m planning to bag.” Charlotte ran her fingers though her hair, admiring herself in the full length mirror beside the cutting table as she spoke. “I’ll wear it with those beautiful cigarette pants in the black sateen you made for me last month,” she concluded.
Natalie nodded, it would be an amazing combination. The poor guy didn’t stand a chance.
“Right I’d better go. Call me when it’s ready.” Charlotte glanced at the diamond studded watch on her slim wrist before marching out the door.
Natalie sighed and turned back to the fabric which was now spilling out of the paper parcel. She ran her fingers over the slippery surface. It would be a complete bitch to sew; but she knew it would look incredible when it was finished. She pulled the brown paper away; the fabric spread and pooled on the table like thick liquid. Grasping the selvedge with her finger tips she lifted her arms, shaking the cloth free of its folds. It shimmered and flowed, unfurling like a sail in the wind. Then it settled on the table, coating the surface like a glistening film.
As it floated down, the butterflies began to wiggle and move. They pulled their wings free of the weave and fluttered up into the air. They swirled around Natalie leaving trails of colour. She could feel puffs of wind on her face from their beating wings. The butterflies settled on Natalie’s arms, shoulders and in her hair as she giggled with delight. Tilting her head back and looking up at the ceiling, Natalie’s feet lifted off the ground as the butterflies beat their tiny wings. The grubby, faded ceiling puckered and melted away like an old film caught in a projector, burning and dissolving at the edges. The butterflies slowly lifted Natalie up and up through the now open roof. She smiled as she climbed higher and higher, her ascent increasingly rapid. Wind swirled around her, buffeting her legs and causing them to swing wildly. She laughed out loud.
Natalie felt a pull on her shoulder blades as if someone was tugging her blouse from behind. She craned her neck and watched over her shoulder as enormous multi-coloured wings sprouted from her back, sliding from her body and spreading like flower petals coming into bloom. The butterflies released Natalie and flew around her, filling her vision. She beat her own massive wings for the first time and was carried upwards. The draft she created caused the butterflies to swirl and eddy around Natalie like calm water disturbed by the oar of a boat. As her wings carried her up, the world around Natalie faded becoming as white as an empty page. She stilled her wings and allowed herself to soar, tilting her body to change direction before pushing up and over, performing a complete loop. She laughed and whooped from the sheer joy of it.
Colour began to seep into the world around Natalie. Starting at an arbitrary line which became the horizon, the colour spread like water filling a dry river bed. Verdant Green spilled over the landscape below while sapphire blue soaked up into the sky above. Bold brush strokes materialized, followed by minute details. Enormous trees grew up beside Natalie, their umber bark rough and scarred by deep crevices. The trees shuddered, groaning as branches pushed and stretched from their trunks, the leaves shaking as they popped into view. The world was appearing around her, painted by some giant unseen artist’s brush. Soaring over the newly created forest, Natalie spied a glistening lake filling from one central point. The water gushed and surged until the lake was full. Natalie flew low over it, her reflection a shining blur. Silver scaled fish shimmered under the water’s surface as they wriggled and darted just out of reach.
As Natalie soared again high above the forest, an enormous mountain pushed its way up into her view, rumbling and crashing as it grew. Rocks tumbled from the sides, hurtling downwards and breaking up into flying, tumbling chunks. Natalie pumped her wings and flew to the mountain, gently setting her feet down on a rocky outcrop. It was then she noticed her skin which was covered in tiny overlapping scales shimmering iridescent in the sunlight. Natalie performed a pirouette and giggled as her skin glittered like a disco ball. As she watched from the ridge, the forest below proliferated, reaching as far as she could see. Birds with vibrant plumage flitted through the boughs their melodic songs filling the air. Natalie sat on the edge, her wings folded neatly behind her as she admired the forest below. She knew it was wrong to feel so happy to be here. She’d been told it was unhealthy and that she should resist. But being here felt right and she never wanted to leave. Doubt began to creep. She tried to push it away, but it refused to leave, squatting in the dark corners of her mind, taunting and unnerving her.
As if on cue, quiet tapping reached her ears and Natalie stiffened. The sound was familiar and laced with menace. It became louder, a groan which grew into a roar. As she peered over the edge of the cliff dark shadows appeared from within the trees and travelled rapidly up the side of the mountain. The shadows slid over the rocky surface pooling in the crevices and spreading like dark water. A thin black line slithered over the edge of the ledge. It split, writhing like a snake and moving rapidly towards her.
Natalie jumped to her feet and backed away, but the shadow reached her in a moment, lapping at her toes. She bounded over it, ran to the edge and jumped, spreading her wings and straightening her arms and legs like a diver. The shadow reached out from the mountain, its tendrils long dark fingers. It clasped her wings, rapidly spreading and crushing them to powder like a giant hand. She fell, spinning and screaming. Dark spots appeared in her vision and everything faded.
Natalie opened her eyes, her breath coming in short gasps and her heart thumping an erratic rhythm in her chest. Her hands ached. She looked down at them and she realised they were bent like claws, her nails digging into the table top. The room was quiet only the gentle click of the thermostat on her iron broke the silence. She breathed out sharply though her teeth.
“Bloody hell, that was a bad one,” she muttered, shaking her head as if to shrug off the fog filling her brain. She made a mental note to call her psychiatrist later, ask him to adjust her medication again.
She looked down at her watch. It’d only lasted a few moments this time. It was thirty seconds at the most since Charlotte walked out the door. Natalie heard the throaty roar as her client’s sports car sped up the driveway. She sighed and looked down at the fabric, still spread on the table. The butterflies were still, nothing more than printed designs on a piece of silk. She stared hard at them, brushing the smooth surface with her fingertips.
“Get a grip. It’s not real, it’s never been real,” Natalie muttered to herself as she turned to retrieve her scissors.
A tiny iridescent scale slipped off her arm and fell unnoticed onto the floor. Moments later it was crushed to powder under the heel of her shoe.
Becoming Writer 2016 Anniversary Contest 