A World Beyond Imagination

My body smashed into the ground. I lifted my aching head and opened my eyes to see a tall girl standing over me. Ugh, Margaret, Maggie to her friends. Popular, top of the class, pretty, you get the picture. Three others stood beside her: Violet, Mabel and Josie. Violet’s like a second in command to Margaret. And Mabel and Josie are the backup team. I lay back down and closed my eyes. I can’t be bothered to do this today. But hands gripped my arms and forced me to my feet. I was now face to face with Margaret.

“Quit imagining Esme,” she said bitterly.

“I know what I saw Margaret,” I retorted.

She bent down and picked up my drawing from where it lay on the grass. She didn’t hesitate, she ripped it to shreds. “No!” I yelled. I lunged forward to try and fight her off but I was held back by Mabel and Josie. I watched helplessly as the pieces fell to the ground like snow. Violet tipped out the contents of my bag and snapped my pencil in half.

All at once Margaret started running in the opposite direction to me, Mabel and Josie jumped away from me as if I had just given them both an electric shock and Violet hurriedly bent down and began replacing my things. And then I saw why. Miss Robertson had stepped outside to see what all the commotion was about. After being confronted by Margaret, who was probably creating a situation that when looked at in any way always presents me as the bad guy and her slipping out of trouble, Miss strode straight to me.

“Miss Esme Birch, I hear you’ve been causing trouble?” she said questioningly, one eyebrow arched.

But before I even had time to open my mouth, Violet, who was still packing away my things excruciatingly slowly cut in, “Miss, if I may?” Miss nodded firmly and she continued speaking in her fake innocent tone, “Esme was trying to scare us! She was showing us her drawings of those horrid creatures she calls ‘Dragons’. Then she ripped up her drawing, saying that that‘s what would happen to us if we ever met one!” She lied smoothly.

“Esme, come with me,” Miss demanded.

“No! How do you believe her? They pushed me to the ground and tipped everything out of my bag. How do you explain that Violet?” I shot back.

“Esme, I’ll have no more of your nonsense, Violet is an honest child. And you, you’ve got yourself into this sort of trouble all too many times. Will you never learn, you insolent child!” Miss roared angrily. She grabbed my hand and marched me towards the school. As I passed Violet she gave me my bag and whispered sarcastically, “Sorry about your dear dragon.” I looked back to see the scattered pieces of paper blowing away in the wind and four girls smiling back at me victoriously. They win every time.

I was led to the door of the headmistress’ office. “Wait here until your name is called,” Miss Robertson said brusquely before letting go of my arm.

She knocked on the door twice and a voice called out, “Please enter.”

She entered and I heard the low murmur of conversation. Then the door opened and Miss Robertson strutted off down the corridor like a proud peacock, high heels clicking on the floor with every step she made. I sat perfectly still until my name was called out, “Miss Esme Birch.”

I rose and entered the dreaded office, gently closing the door behind me. I took a seat opposite the head mistress in a brown leather armchair which I sank into. I sat up and tried to look dignified but I could hardly see over the desk because the armchair was so low. I saw a normal chair just beside me and the headmistress watched me with a forced smile as I quickly switched seats.

“Do you know why you’re here Miss Birch?” she said in a sickeningly sweet voice. Do I know why I’m here? No I don’t, that’s a good question. Why am I here instead of the ‘Fabulous Four’? I thought but I didn’t meet her gaze as that would be classed improper neither did I answer her question as that would be talking back. “I’ll tell you shall I. Not only have you scared four of our most fabulous students, you’ve also lied. Have you learned nothing since you were last in this office?”

Yes, not only are the girls popular, they are like angels to the teachers. They’re called, in a manner of speaking, the ‘Fabulous Four’.

“Since you have shown no improvement, I am banning you from school for the next two days,” she said. I was just thinking how that wouldn’t be too bad, a chance to get away from Margaret and her gang, until she added, “But you will be given extra work to do at home as well as revision for the upcoming test next week,” she finished decidedly. Anger started welling up inside me like a brewing storm, fists clenched, knuckles whitened. “But I didn’t do anything!” I burst out.

“Right. That’s quite enough. You have disobeyed the rules by lying and now you have the audacity to talk back to me!” She exclaimed. She stood up, taking the ruler from her desk. “Put out your hand young lady,” she spoke venomously. I did as I was told, and stretched out my shaking hand, laying it on the desk. I tensed every muscle in my body awaiting the ruthless blow. I shut my eyes tightly as the ruler was raised. Momentary numbness and then sharp pain ran all across my hand.

I look out of the window, recalling the incident this morning, turning over my hand to reveal the menacing red mark it had left. My mother was not at all pleased to see me home so early and even more displeased to receive a letter containing the details of the unjust event. I tried to explain what had actually happened but she wouldn’t take a word of it, so now I’m strictly confined to my room. Maybe father can talk her round when he returns home, but with my mother’s stubbornness I doubt anything will work. I eye the pile of revision papers that I was handed. I decide to at least start on them, so I sit down and look at the first paper labelled Multiplication Equations. A yellow sticky note stuck to the corner of the paper reads, ‘Finish ALL papers by next week, 23rd May’. With ‘all’ in bold capitals. 23rd, in 3 days. I groan and open it up to the first page. I do all of the questions on the first page before realising I’m doing the completely wrong method. I retry the equations but I can’t work them out. I push the paper to the side and look at the next. There’s another, identical, yellow sticky note in the corner of the page, as if they thought I’d forget the first one. It’s titled, English Essay (3000 words). I sigh heavily and get up from my desk and sprawl on to my bed. I close my eyes and see ALL in bold letters. I’ll come back to this after I’ve cleared my mind, I thought, brushing aside the idea of work.

I slowly open my door and silently cross the landing, descending down the first few steps of the stairs and peering through the bannisters. I see my mother sitting opposite Mrs Jones (a good friend of hers) in the drawing room chatting politely and sipping cups of tea daintily. My mother is a perfect example of a proper lady. She always says that I should stop gallivanting about the hills in my spare time. I’m not looking forward to becoming a ‘proper lady’ as soon as I turn 14. My mother says I must wear pretty dresses, laugh politely and perfect my manners. I return to my bedroom, take out my fountain pen and a sheet of paper.

Dearest Mother,

I have taken a leisurely stroll through the gardens to clear my mind before getting back to work.

Love Esme.

I write before folding it neatly in half and addressing it, ‘Mother’. I sneak downstairs, carefully choosing my footing and wincing as the last step creaks loudly. I pause and listen, wondering if mother has heard me but I only hear controlled laughter so I hurriedly pull on my black boots and lace them up. Then, I place the letter on the dining room table, swiftly passing the door to the drawing room without being seen. I ignore my coat hanging up on the peg and open the front door. For a moment, I stop and breathe in the refreshing smell of Spring. A soft breeze blows on my face, the sound of melodious chirping blackbirds travel to my ears. I shut the door and walk down the path to the gate. Rows of flowers line the path, nearly in full bloom, bees buzzing busily about them.

My mind is clouded with thoughts but one thing sticks out to me, ‘Quit imagining.’ Am I just imagining? What if I never saw a dragon? Nobody else has ever seen a dragon… or maybe they have. A story used to be passed down from generation to generation in our family, a story about Dracones - Dragons. I’ve never heard the full story, my mother doesn’t allow it. My grandma knows all about the Dragons, passed down from her grandparents but the story was cut off at my point. I remember telling mother that I had seen a dragon. She banned me from ever going back to where I had found it, saying it was all nonsensical. I took heed to her word and haven’t returned since, but I’ve tried to finish off the dragon with my own imagination. And I achieved it. If I could imagine the rest of the dragon with just a rough outline and glimpse of colour then surely I could imagine an entire dragon from nothing and not know the difference. There’s only one way to prove if I was imagining it all or not. I must retrace my steps, I think. Mother will have a fit if she knows I’m returning to the caves just above The Valley. The caves had been my entire childhood. I’ve explored every secret entrance, I know where each one leads and the ones that have dead ends. I know which ones are inhabited and which ones display decay and darkness. I found a crystal in my favourite cave once, on a ledge in the rock. But it was faded and dull.

I start off towards The Valley. As I walk, I try to remember the stories grandma had told me when I was very small when I had stayed with them for a few weeks whilst my parents rested. I can only remember snippets of the stories. She would always start them the exact same way, “A long, long time ago, when my great great great grandparents were alive, there were once dragons in The Valley. The same valley that you shall come to know, they found what they called a Dragon World.” I remember being intrigued by each and every word, that was how I remembered it went. But there was something else too, descriptions of the World. “Crystals that shone so brightly they could blind you, each dragon had its own colour and power too”. The thing she would finish off with always caught my attention most, “The dragons came to save us.”

Came to save them, from what? And if I have seen a dragon, what’s about to happen? Are we in trouble? Just as a feeling of dread slowly creeps over me like a cold mist, a noise startles me. I quickly spin round to see who this intruder is, but I see nothing, only the empty path that I’ve come on through the woods. I look forward once again as I hear what sounds like muffled footsteps, but with no rhythm. Again, nothing… but there is: a single footprint. I bend down and look more closely at it, it’s not a foot at all. It’s more like a large paw. I trace the outline of the paw print. Suddenly, something green starts coming out of the ground. The earth shifts slightly and then I see that they’re flower buds, and stalks too, rising out of the paw print. It’s as if everything is speeded up as I focus on the flowers which sprout and grow and bloom into small, beautiful, baby pink roses in the space of a few seconds. That’s not possible, I think. The earth around the paw print is completely bare. I pick a single rose, its petals feel like soft velvet. As soon as I pick it, a new one grows in its place. How can this be? I think, getting up. I continue walking forward and looking out carefully. I can see more paw prints ahead, but not like normal paw prints, slowly padding along. These paw prints are stretched far away from each other, as if the creature has leapt with each step. Each paw print holds a slightly darker shade of pink roses blossoming out of it. I keep going, after a few more paw prints, the roses turn to orangey-pink shades. The rich fragrance is almost overwhelming.

Ahead of me, I hear a branch snap. I start running, not away from the sound, towards it. I’m not on the path anymore, I run straight into the woods, hunting down this magical creature. I jump over tree roots, duck under branches and keep on running. I’m gaining, in front of me I see the swish of a long pink tail. This has to be it, this has to be the dragon, I think. I think of the shocked looks on the four girls' faces when I come back to school with proof that I’ve seen a dragon. I think of the times that I’ve been shouted at by my mother, pushed over by Margaret. I will not live with that any longer. A rush of anger sends new energy pumping through my blood and I sprint after the dragon. I won’t lose it this time. I can’t lose it. I can see it, I’m nearly there. I reach out my hand. The world turns upside down and I’m falling. Something sharp digs into my right hand as I hit the earth. I start scrambling up but stop on my knees. I just stare, motionless.

I pinch my wrist quickly, but no, I feel the short pain. This is real. I am kneeling before a dragon.

She’s poised on all four paws, steadying her elegant, carnation pink body. Her paws are an ombre of sunset orange fading into pink. They have thin, sharp claws at the end. Her powerful legs have vines climbing up them. Her long tail, covered in little roses, curls round and brushes against my cheek. She looks down her snout at me with shining, emerald green eyes. Her two pink horns on the top of her head, draped with twisting green vines. A row of deep magenta spines lines her back. Her two colossal wings, patterned with many pink and light orange roses, stretch out in a flying position. I’m astonished by this pulchritudinous creature. I slowly reach out my hand and stroke her snout, it's as soft as a kitten’s fur. The dragon nudges my hand affectionately before turning and walking away.

I get up and follow her, forgetting all about the pain in my hand. As I walk beside her, I realise that we have come out into the open once again. There, in front of me, is The Valley. I don't know why, but somehow, this place feels different. We enter the biggest cave of them all, my favourite cave. Where I found the crystal. I know it like the back of my hand. The passage winds round, becoming pitch black and gets smaller as you go before opening out into a big circle of trees. We walk round the winding passage of the cave, and I expect at any moment to plunge into darkness. But, we don’t. The cave is lit up. All around, embedded in the rock are crystals. Just like the one I found many years ago when I was small. They illuminate the cave. I touch one, it’s warm and hard. How did I never notice these before? No, they weren’t here before and neither was the dragon, I think, looking back at the curving shape, waiting patiently for me. Is it only her, or are there more? When she came, the crystals must have come to life. That explains why the one I found was dull, but why hadn’t I seen any others similar to that? I pulled my hand away and continued down the passage. I knew that there was one more bend before daylight, and the circle of trees. When I turned the bend all I could see at the end was a dazzling white light. But, the dragon walked straight through it, and so I followed.