The girl in the glass case.

In the middle of the forest, in the middle of a glade, in the middle of a clearing was a glass case. Inside the glass case lay a girl, sleeping. She was laid out on her back, her dark hair shining, framing a porcelain, doll-like face. Her arms lay by her sides and a huge bunch of lilies rested on her stomach. No one knew how she came to be there, in fact there was no one to see her, but the animals came from miles around to gaze on her loveliness. The blue birds would alight on the glass and cock their little heads to one side trying to understand what they were seeing. They pecked at the glass, but it left no mark. The squirrels would run all over the glass, trying to find a way in to this giant nut in their forest. But there was no catch that their deft hands could unlock. Even the giant woolly forest bears would come and sleep in big furry piles around the glass case, happy just to be near this strange, peaceful being.

One day a young fawn came tripping into the clearing. It was a clear, sunny day and the light was bouncing off the rim of the glass, making it sparkle. The glass intrigued him, and he moved closer and closer, the glass reflected his own image so he was at first cautious, wondering why this other deer looked so familiar, and moved when he did, he turned to run and the deer followed him, he moved closer and the deer followed him. He turned to the side and the deer followed him. He began to be impatient, this other deer seemed to mock him, and yet he was so beautiful. He turned and ran towards the glass, swifter and swifter, expecting the other deer to turn away; he didn’t of course just being a poor reflection. The little fawn got angry and charged at the glass. His little nose knocked against the hard, cold surface and shock and surprise filled his eyes, he turned and ran out of the clearing, feeling humiliated that this other deer had been so much stronger than him, and yet the beauty of his limbs, his delicate features stayed in his head for a long time.

However, this little fawn had affected the glass case stronger than any of the animals to previously come across it. The case began to move, it began to slide on invisible wheels and soon it was rushing through the trees, away from the clearing, away from the clear glade. The case rushed on, the trees flashed by, the scenery blurred and yet still the girl inside was peaceful.

On the edge of the forest was a city. It was not a nice kind of city, it was not picturesque, there were no sweet blue boats in the harbor or amazing architecture to wonder at. The case was leaving the forest; it bumped down streets, past dingy old shops into the black heart of the central city. Finally it came to rest in a small alleyway, having hit several dustbins. It seemed as if there was some guiding system to the case, as it rested unscathed in a dark alleyway, away from the main streets, away from the bustling people, as if in a brackish backwater of some polluted stream.

The case rested there, shining clear, despite the dingy surroundings and perilous trip from the forest. The girl slept on, unmoving, untouched by any of the recent excitement.

A drunk came stumbling up the alleyway, he looked surprised to see this marvel resting in the middle of all the filth. He came closer, clutching at his bottle of cheap bourbon in one hand. He ran his hand over the top of the case. “Daughter??” he mumbled “Daughter, Susan?” The girl slept on. “Susan!” he screamed “Answer me!” He tried to shake the case, but it was too heavy for his drunken limbs. He beat the glass “What are you doing in there?” In frustration he smashed his bottle of bourbon over the top. “What have I done?” he mumbled, “what have I done?” he licked the drops from the edge of the case mumbling under his breath. He ran his hand over the case again and then licked it, trying to get all the escaped bourbon back to his mouth. Then he stumbled away.

The girl slept on, and the night became deeper, blacker. Another man walked past the alleyway. He doubled back and looked at the glass case. He moved closer, hardly able to understand what he saw. He approached the case cautiously and looked around for some kind of catch to open it. He gazed on the face of the girl,” beautiful” he murmured. He leaned ontop of the glass, imagining the girl was just beneath him. He felt a stirring in his pants, a stirring that needed to be fulfilled. He was so entranced; he didn’t notice the sticky liquor now staining his crotch. He looked at her perfect rosebud lips, her pale cheek with just a hint of a pink bloom in her cheek, her eyes closed, peaceful, so peaceful. I have to get inside he thought, I have to wake her, to hold her close, pull her to me and wake her and then to mar that beauty, to tear at her clothes, to bruise her skin. He pulled a knife out of his coat and brought it down on the glass, trying to stab through it, but it slipped and cut his hand instead. He yelled in pain and desperately tried to force open the case, but to no avail.

Finally disgruntled, he stormed off into the night. The girl rolled on her side, crushing the bouquet of flowers that had been resting on top of her. She put her hand underneath her cheek and smiled softly in her sleep.