Oh, how I wish I couldn't remember my past! Granted, the past was so long ago that time itself does not remember, and yet I still do. How cruel of
the great Creator to leave me to this plight, surrounded by nothing but the old creaking branches. You there! Maybe still your daughter can hear me,
for they are more sensitive than most. Come child, come play with my weary soul that is still bound to the earth, as I lament about my past.
Can you believe I still remember going to church on my 4th birthday? It was an imposing sight to my baby-blue eyes: An immense structure, vaulted
windows like some vast tomb. The windows letting in a stream of sunlight that forced shadows to wither and pool in the deep recesses of the place. The
statue, however, was most terrifying and intriguing; Mother told me it was an angel, but I could not fathom why it pierced my eyes with such
malevolence (the chain on the foot didn't help much).
As time went on, I became less and less afraid of the statue - Mother, however, seemed to be more afraid of it and would often hide me from its sight.
She also stopped talking to me less over the years - perhaps she was sick?
And then, the inevitable happened: Mother became deathly ill. They took me away from her, and kept her from seeing me. The snippets of voices that I
heard always mentioned the word "death". I was taught that all things must eventually die, save for death itself. It was a very taboo subject in our
family, one that I knew better than to bring up. I wanted to be a good child. I was present at her funeral by some miracle, and due to my condition,
not one tear was shed; Inside, I was dead and rotted already.
After her passing, I was locked up in a tower by some witch (seriously, she held me like I had the plague, her face all distorted and eyes narrowed).
I suppose there was probably a magical enchantment placed on me, as I never had to eat. She liked having quiet, so I couldn't move around too much.
During the day, I would sleep, and during the night, I would investigate the room, always ready to return to my favorite spot on the bed. On one of
these nightly adventures, I discovered a rather odd mirror that must have belonged to the witch.
Wiping away the dust, I noticed that in the daytime, the mirror was always black; but at night, when the moon glowed through the tiny little window,
the mirror would spring to life. Sometimes, it would show me what I wanted to see, and other times, it would focus on an image that seemed to cheer me
up. I happened to be watching it one night, when the most beautiful spider came on the other side of the looking glass, spinning a delicate web. I was
amazed, so amazed that I reached out to touch it.
The mirror fell with a crash, breaking into several shards of tangled web. The rapid steps made me realize I would never make it to my bed, so I froze
where I was. All I remember is a scream, the sound of something being picked up, and a sickening "crack!!!" against my head. And then, it all faded
The harsh cawing of a crow brought me back into the world. I struggled to get my eyes open, the only thing I could see at first was the old, withered
spindly trees crowded around me like some prayer group.
The cold, dim sunlight illuminated the areas where the wind was ever so slightly able to send its whispers through the leaves. I tried to get up, but
somehow I was unable to. That Witch! She must have made it so I couldn't move my arms or legs!. I thought this for a while, until I heard the other
"Oh no, she's brought another one"
"Where am I? I want my mother!"
"There's no point; no-one will be able to hear us now"
"My eyes, my eyes, my poor, brown eyes!!!"
Child, those voices were annoying! I found that I could only whisper out a voice, or was it the air around me? I found it strange I couldn't turn to
look at my companions. That was, until that furry little varmint knocked me over. I felt my eyes close, and became very dizzy as I fell down the hill.
Finally, after my eyes stopped rolling around, I opened them to a scene of carnage. With a look of horror, I could only move my gaze to the gutless
neck of my companion, her weeping consistent with the whimpering coming from everyone else.
You need to help me find my body, child. Please, Pick Me, Pick Me! Lift me so I can search around. Wait, why are we going towards that pit? Shouldn't
you stay away from the edge. Wait, stop, what are you doing? Ohhhh, I see, you are the spawn of that ungrateful witch that placed me here! Putting me
into a watery grave that I can't escape from!? Put me baaacccckkkk!