I put this together for fun for an inkpop competition, and figured since I am not trying to get it published this would be a good writing sample. I hope you enjoy!
Low hanging pines covered the path before me, slashing my arms and face, obscuring my view of Demetrius. Above, the moon had been long ago blocked by the canopy of trees, leaving only the few persistent rays of light to guide us. My legs ached as I sprinted along the dirt path always in Demetrius’s wake, slowly falling behind.
“Not so fast,” I yelled after him, but he glanced over his shoulder and continued as fast as ever. I was pursuing my love, and he was pursuing his. All I ever wanted was to be with one man, the man that had once asked me to be his bride. The man in front of me. Was that too much for one girl to hope?
He turned to face me. “Why’d you come anyway?”
“I just…” I wanted to convey the heart wrenching tail of my love for him, a love he had dismissed for dreams of grandeur and riches, for marrying into Hermia’s family. But my lungs wouldn’t allow it. “Don’t leave… me…”
“Sorry,” he said with a shake of his head that tossed his brown locks to the side and made me whimper, “I can’t be slowed down by you any longer.”
I stood, reaching out my hand to him, wanting to touch him one last time, to feel those full lips against my own. But he was gone, darting off into the shadows of the pine trees, and I knew he was gone.
I had left Athens, only to be deserted here in the middle of nowhere. Who knows what creatures may lay waiting in those shadows? I was suddenly overcome with a fear for Demetrius. He wore a sword under his blue wool robes, but would that be enough? I had to make sure he’d be safe.
I ran after him, yelling his name, but I could see nothing in the dark of night. My heart ached from the loss of my love, and from effort I put on it as I ran. My lungs burned, as did the tears streaming from my eyes. But I have always prided myself on having a realistic view on life, and at that moment I knew I would never see him again. I was likely to die by myself in these woods, for all I knew. But instead of worrying about it, I knew the best thing I could do was to lay my head upon the cushion of moss lining the ground and rest. Perhaps some beast would wander right past me in my sleep, mistaking me for a rock or a fallen tree? Or maybe I would be devoured and put out of my misery – that would probably be for the best.
I curled into a ball, my eyes heavy and my heart equally so, wondering how it came to be that no men loved me.
It was only two hours since I had left Athens, following on the heels my Demetrius. He was once the sort of man that would stand upon the highest peak in all of Greece and proclaim his love to the gods, but that was before Hermia. She came into our lives and he cast me aside so as to gaze upon her beauty.
He had chased after her and Lysander in the direction we knew Lysander’s aunt’s house to be, and I had been stupid enough to follow him in hopes he would reward my honesty with his love. It was I who told him of Hermia’s retreat.
Something bumped into my foot. I kept my eyes shut tight, fearing all manner of beasts around me. At any moment I would feel talons tearing into my flesh. But then I heard a most unexpected voice.
“Helena?” Lysander said.
I opened my eyes. He stood before me in thick yellow robes, his matching blond hair shifting restlessly in the cool night’s breeze. I had always wondered at the deep longing in his eyes. While in the past he had only looked longingly at Hermia, tonight those molasses eyes stared at me intently.
“Yes?” I said, lifting myself up to my elbows.
He lowered himself beside me, caressing my face. What jest is this? I pulled away and he flinched, as if I had struck him.
“How have I lived before this moment?” he said, shaking his head with his face in his palm. “Without you by my side?”
“What?” I said, standing and taking a step back. “This isn’t funny. Where’s Hermia? What’re you doing here?”
“Who cares.” He stood and came to me with outstretched arms. His embrace felt so wonderful, if only he were Demetrius. “Somehow, as if by fate, she was gone when I awoke. I went for her, but when I saw you laying here, the only patch of moon in this whole forsaken forest shining upon your beauty, I realized my mistake.”
“Enough,” I said, pushing him back with the palm of my hand against his forehead. “You tease me. I am like a spider with my long skinny legs, and yet you stand before me and say you’ve realized your mistake?”
“In truth she bored me. Have you ever run through the woods with Hermia? The way she complains…” he raised his voice in mimic, “Oh help me over this puddle Lysander, oh yuck, a frog Lysander, when are we going to be out of this hell-hole Lysander,” his voice returned to its deep growl, “she’s like a child!”
“I’ve never met a man as cruel as you, Lysander.”
He stared at me and I couldn’t be sure in the dark of night, but his eyes appeared moist.
“What if I were to say I love you?” he asked.
It struck me like an arrow between the eyes. The horrible uncaring man could stand there and say such things. Did he mock me because I longed to be loved? Had Demetrius found him and convinced him to play this evil game? Moments later I knew it to be the case, when Demetrius strolled into the clearing. He stared at Lysander as if not expecting him, his eyes darting between the two of us. Then came to my side and put an arm around my waist. It felt so perfect, so right, but I knew their game now. I was about to push him away too, when he looked up at me with his piercing cobalt-blue eyes. I nearly melted.
“She is mine,” he said.
“Don’t Demetrius,” I said, “not you too.”
“I love you,” he said.
The bastard! How could he say that now, simply to tease me? I slapped him hard and turned to return to Athens. I’d rather take my chances with the beasts and spirits of the forest than these two buffoons.
“Helena, wait,” Lysander said, running after me.
I turned to see them both kneeling before me, professing their love. They went on and on, about how I would be the greatest prize, how our children could rule all of Greece, and we would die old and in each other’s arms. It was everything I wanted to hear, but not like this. Not at my expense so they could have a good laugh.
“I curse you both to Hades,” I said and turned to go. But as I turned I saw a pair of narrow, frightening eyes inches from my face.
“So you mean to steal him from me?” Hermia said.
My jaw dropped. Not her too? But sure enough she joined in on the charade.
“My love,” she said, approaching Lysander, “why do you say you love her? After everything you’ve said about her…”
Had I started to believe Lysander and Demetrius before that moment, she would have ripped me from dreamland back to reality. Fortunately for me I am not so simple minded.
Lysander glared at her like she had the plague, but I knew he was just mad at her for attempting to betray their game. “Be gone, woman,” he said. I nearly believed him.
“Come Helena,” Demetrius said as he took my hand, “let us leave these two to their delights, while we take ours.”
The warmth of his skin against mine was bliss. I wanted to hold his hand against my cheek and stay in that moment forever. But even in a good dream, one must wake. I looked at Hermia, and I knew why this could never be. Her soft rosy skin, the way her full breasts rose with each breath, how could I have ever hoped to compete? Me with the face of a horse, and as tall as a giant. I was a freak, and she was Hermia of Athens, the most beautiful woman I had ever seen.
“Stop it this instant!” I yelled. Everyone turned to face me, their eyes bulging. Had I ever yelled around any of them?
Hermia came at me. I backed up against a tree, but my hair somehow ended up in her hand, and she was yelling at me. She insulted me like I had never heard, and I yelled back. I asked her how she could claim to be my friend all those years, and then play such a trick as this. Her insults stung, and I let her know. But she only pulled harder.
“Release her,” Lysander said as he attempted to pull me free.
Demetrius caught me when I tripped, and that was when the first blow fell. Lysander yelled out when he saw me in Demetrius’s arms, and he pushed Hermia away, bringing his fist across Lysander’s jaw. Blood and spit splattered across my cheek, and then Demetrius was on top of Lysander throwing punches and elbows wherever he could get an opening. Hermia tried to break up the fight, but she was shoved backward and landed with a grunt in a pool of mud. They didn’t stop fighting until Hermia was on top of me in a similar manner of attack.
“What have you done?” she yelled as she slapped me. “Did you show your skin, did you cast a spell upon my Lysander?” she dug both hands into my scalp so that her fingernails dug deep. The pain stung as much as the realization that she could not be playing any more. Was she not in on the joke? Had I been too hasty to judge her?
I sobbed, telling her I had done nothing, but she continued to attack until Lysander and Demetrius each held one of her arms, pulling her back.
“I will protect you, Helena,” Demetrius said.
“No, it will be I that protects her,” Lysander said, hand on his sword.
“You dare?” Demetrius said. “Your lover sits on the ground in tears, and you try to stand in the way of me and mine?”
“You wouldn’t have looked at Helena twice had you not seen me laying with her!”
Demetrius drew his sword. “Take it back?”
“What’re you doing?” I screamed. “You would fight each other with swords over me? Over jest?” Then it started to sink in. Their lust-filled eyes, Hermia on the ground staring at me in terror with tear filled eyes – was it possible this was not just some game? Had I sat out here to win the love of one man, and somehow managed the grand prize, the adoration of two?
I stare at them, then allow a smile to touch my lips. “And if I say you can both have me?”
Hermia cursed and fled the scene, mumbling to herself some horrible names for me as she escaped. But Lysander and Demetrius, they stared at me quizzically.
“Do you jest with us?” Lysander said.
“Is this like the stories of Solomon,” Demetrius said, “split the baby, the one who says no truly loves the child? Well I will not split you my love, and I will not allow this fiend to lay a hand on you.”
“A fiend am I?” Lysander said, his sword at Demetrius’s throat. “Fine, I agree. Either one of us will be with her, or neither. The only way to settle this is a duel!”
“Fine with me!” Demetrius said, turning from the clearing.
“Wait,” I said as they walked away, “what about me?”
“Whichever of us survives will have you, my love,” Demetrius said.
“And that will be me,” Lysander said.
And then I was by myself again. Only this time I felt horrible. Not because nobody loved me, but because somehow I had caused my once dear friend Hermia to be hurt, and maybe caused a man’s death in dual. But why didn’t I just tell Demetrius I love him and not Lysander? I don’t know, maybe I liked the attention. Maybe I wanted both of them for myself – because of all the times Hermia had talked about her great love with Lysander, rubbing it in my face and making me feel horrible.
Regardless, I didn’t want to die anymore. I didn’t want some animal to come along and find me sleeping all alone, but what choice did I have? Could I go after Hermia and apologize? Not likely, the way she attacked me. And I certainly wasn’t going to watch my potential lover die in duel, whichever of those oafs he turned out to be. So I sat back on the clearing, my head against the tree, waiting with alert eyes. At first. Then my head began to fall to my chest, and my eyelids grew heavy. I tried to pry my eyes open, but it was no use. I fell into dreamland knowing that no matter what happened, in the morning I would have a lover.
Barking hounds from beyond the woods woke me. There must be a hunt underway, I thought. I looked around to see the sunlight creeping through the branches above, casting a warm green glow on the mossy clearing. And there beside me, my head upon his chest, was Demetrius. He held me tight, smiling in his sleep. I raised my head and saw Lysander and Hermia on the other side of the clearing. Lysander lay with his head on her chest, gazing back at me with the sadness I remembered feeling just the day before. But he had lost, I could see it in the defeat in his eyes, and the large gash on his cheek. He must have surrendered, and Demetrius had won me in the end. A strange turn of events, if you ask me. I know he only realized he loved me when he saw another man pawning over me, but I’ll take what I can get. I don’t exactly have the looks of Hermia after all.
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