Ten Meters Under Sacred Earth(Tasia) "Tweet, tweet!" "chirp!" The birds' songs echo all around me. Oh, how beautiful this Summer day is! Off to the right, the wall of quiet water sends a slight waterfall breeze swiftly flowing through the warm air. The sun is shining and fish are flashing scaly tails out of the clear, cold stream. I sigh; it seems so peaceful. I drop myself slowly down to the ground and close my eyes as light rays warm my face. There isn't a cloud in sight, and frogs, croaking, are creating a steady rhythm.

Mom is making sandwiches on the grass, her eyes sparkling like glitter. Everything seems perfect just then. This picnic that we planned on my sixth birthday, the slight windy breeze that is carried off Burncher Lake, the beautiful white swans that folded their snowy wings, and especially, the cloudless sky and hot weather. But then, just out of nowhere, the sun disappears behind a cloud. And it's not the cloud that made me scared, it was the scream.

I turn my head toward my mother. And let out a sharp gasp. Standing right where she should have been, is a shadow. A shadow with long, thin legs and a triangular head. I catch a glimpse of the head moving. The shadow, bringing its legs closer together, becomes almost transparent. But not long after, becomes more vivid. Much more vivid to be a shadow anymore. Now, standing there with its back to me, is a hideous creature. I can feel my heart skip a beat. The thin legs start moving and the whole body turns around to face me, revealing deep eye sockets and a twinkle of red light inside each one. Its mouth is a jagged toothy grin, and as the creature stares into me, I can feel myself melting under the gaze. Then it was my turn to scream.

My eyes flew open. I sat bolt upright in my bed, panting. I’ve been having that nightmare for years. I reached over my bedside table and turned on the lamp. I took a deep breath and lay back down. The curtains above the window were fluttering lightly and took on a ghostly shape. I took a look at my alarm clock. 3:27 a.m. in red LED lights shined back at me. I was fourteen now, and still remembered eight years ago like it was yesterday. I heard footsteps and the door slightly opened. Grandma came into my room, still half asleep. Her eyes were tired, but she just said, “Oh, Claudia, you had the nightmare again,”. She sighed, and sitting down on my bed, she stroked my hair, again and again, until I fell asleep.

I awoke to the sound of sizzling oil and smell of fresh pancakes. The window was open, letting in an early autumn wind. The curtains danced above the sill and I smiled at the sun’s rays filtered in through the translucent tile window. I turned my head, then frowned in surprise. Beside my lamp was a key. A rusty and old-fashioned key that was too big for any of the locks inside our house. I picked up the key and went down stairs, determined to know all about it. I was met by the aroma of freshly buttered pancakes and strawberry jam. Grandpa was sitting at the table reading a newspaper while Grandma was making warm black tea. As I passed him, Grandpa looked up from the paper and said, “Well, hello, Claudia, did you sleep well?” I thought about my nightmare. I slept well, until that part. I just smiled. Grandpa’s eyes lowered to the key I griped in my hand. His smile faded. “Where did you get that, darling?” His voice became serious, but still soft. I looked at the key in my hand, then at him> Grandpa’s eyes were fixed on the big rusty metal. Grandma looked up from the tea, and when she saw the key, she suddenly dropped the teaspoon of sugar she was holding. White grains scattered as the spoon clinked against the tile floor.

“Oh, Claudia. Claudia, Claudia, Claudia,” she muttered. Her eyes became sad and wet and I realised she was about to cry. She picked up the spoon, placed it in the sink, and headed for the stairs. “Grandma? What…” I started. But Grandpa stopped me with a pleading look. After Grandma left, Grandpa stood up and and took the tea to the table. I put the key in my pocket. Breakfast has never been so confusing.

Grandpa sighed. I tried to look him in the eye, but his gaze was fixed on his teacup. Finally, not being able to hold on any longer, I asked, “Grandpa, what is the key for? Please tell me,” And that is how I found out about the basement I never knew we had, while living in this house for eight years.

That night, after my Grandparents went to sleep, I crept down to the living room, took a flashlight out of the office desk cupboard, and went to the corner of the house. Sure enough, a door stood closed covered by a cushion chair. I gripped the knob and it turned easily. I twisted the knob, pushed open the surprisingly heavy door, and revealed the basement stairs. They stood silent, the steps leading down to eerie darkness. Taking a deep breath, I started down. Halfway to the bottom, I stopped to turn on the flashlight. The circle shaped beam swiped the bottom. It looked like there was nothing there, when the beam reached a golden pull. It sent off a sparkle. Excited, I almost flew down the rest of the steps. Standing at the bottom was an empty room, except for door with a golden sparkling knob.

I took the handle and pulled it down. The knob wouldn’t go down. That’s when I noticed a keyhole under the knob. The hole was fairly big, enough for me to peek through. So I did. The other side of the door seemed cold and damp. I couldn’t see anything. It was as if the door was installed onto the wall and there wasn’t anything behind it. But then I remembered the key. My heart was beating wildly as I clumsily pulled the rusting key out of my pocket. My hands shaking, I drew the key into the keyhole and turned. There was a faint click and I held my breath as I took the knob. My hands felt sweaty as I pulled the knob down, and the door creaked open.

I was shaking and sweating as I pulled the door open all the way. But, the door opened to the inside, so there actually was something on the other side. But it wasn’t dark. Or damp. It was a hot, blinding light that made me shiver despite the scorching heat. I had to cover my eyes and shut them very tightly in order to stay safe. The light slowly faded, and I slightly opened my eyes. Then I gasped. Beyond the frame was another world. There was a beautiful clear lake surrounded by tall grass and white swans swam in it. Spectacular birds of all colours flew through the air and the grass was a soft green as it got lighted by the sun’s rays. But what was most beautiful, was the huge oak in the North-west corner. The leaves rustled in the breeze and nightingales lit the place up with their voices.

I stepped through the frame and found the door just standing on the ground with nothing behind it. I was so startled, I gulped several times before I could normally breathe again. I took a deep breath of air and filled my lungs with the sweet smell of autumn. I found the smell familiar. I don’t know why, but I stepped up to the old oak and stood looking at it. Strangely, I found the oak familiar too. I touched the old bumpy bark of the trunk and followed the outline with my finger. Then, the tree started to ripple, and I stepped back in surprise. The ripples spread over the tree, and I heard a low hum. The hum got louder, and I put up my hands to cover my ears. The ripples spread over the branches, then down the trunk, and the roots vibrated on the grass. The ground vibrated, so loud the sound was deafening. The swans froze in the water, and the ripples made their snow-white wings tremble. The whole atmosphere started to hum and tremble, like a major earthquake. Time passed, and the hum lowered. I uncovered my ears, scared and excited at the same time. I heard a shriek of laughter from behind me. Now the scene was softly blurry, like a fuzzy TV connection. A girl ran out from a berry bush behind the door, which was blurry too. The girl was at least six, and that’s when I understood that I was at Burncher Lake.

The little girl was followed by a young and beautiful woman. The woman set down a blanket and a bag of bread and jam. As the girl ran around in the grass her mother made sandwiches, and I knew the girl was me. I came up to the woman, and, with tears in my eyes, said, “mom, do you hear me?” The woman just stared at the six-year-old me, smiling and her eyes sparkling. I reached out to touch my mother, and then, she started to ripple. My eyes widened. I heard the scream I’ve heard every night for eight years. I saw myself turning my head from the grass, saw the creature made out of shadows staring at me, saw my mother faint and wispy, and not long after, she disappeared. I felt a tear roll down my cheek. I wanted to scream, to kick, to punch, I wanted to find my mother and throw myself into her arms. But I knew I couldn’t. I could never do that. I thought about the eight years of my life spent alone without the sparkling eyes, about every one of those nights she wasn’t there to put me to sleep, and I had only one goal: To find her, and bring her back into my life, and never, EVER let her go.

My head felt hot, and I felt faint. As the world blurred up once again, it all went dark. I opened my eyes to find myself on the couch with Grandma looking down at me. I sat up slowly, because my head was throbbing. Grandma asked, “What happened?” Her eyes were curious, and I told her all about it. She shook her head, and sighed. After a pause, she said, “It’s time to tell you the truth, then,” I looked her in the eye, not understanding. Grandpa came along then, sat down in a chair beside Grandma and pursed his lips. His face took on a concentrated expression. After two hours passed, I was once again very determined to do something. This time though, it was going to get dangerous.

My grandparents pleaded me not to go. But my mind was made up. I took everything I needed, and pulled open the basement door. My heart was once again beating violently as I made my way down the steps, and when I got to the bottom, I suddenly felt very calm. Then, out of nowhere, came a voice. “Help me. Help me. Find me. Save me.” The voice was soft, as if coming from far away. It seemed familiar also. It sounded like I heard it a thousand times, but a thousand years ago. Only then I realised; it was Mom. “Mom?” I called out. A reply came, “Help me. Save me. Claudia, please. Find me. Help me. Help me.” And I knew I had to find her. And FAST.

TO BE CONTINUED

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