Maria

Image: '[|Practical Magic]' []

This was the last day that I will ever see my grandmother again. She was wearing the red scarf that night over the layers of thick clothes which did not keep her warm enough for the night. The red cotton made her look much youthful than her usual apearences in black veil, I never realised her cheeks were bright rosy that brought slight sense of spring in a chillig night. She placed both her hands on my shoulder and said softly to me to ears.  “My dear little one, I could never find the words to describe how I feel for you. But I knew it from every moment, there is a powerful strength waiting to arise. The time will come and you know it.” She gave me a book unaware that I could not yet read, though this was the only key to my past. What would an aged book so ragged with dusts and ashes would tell me? Little did I know that it meant so much to me? I watched my grandmother’s shadow fade away in the snow. “Wait..., please” I cried to her before she vanishes with white wind. “What, my dear?” she turned around to look at me with warm eyes that always gave me hope. “What will I do with this book? You know that I can’t read!” My grandmother stayed silent for the long moment, and stepped closer. “The first thing is to open it, and then you will find that reading does not matter. It is how you think matters the most” I starred at the dull object for so long in my grandmother’s bed room and covered myself with a sheet of blanket that still gave me her smell. “A thick bible show to my devotion to God?” I thought for a long moment. I was always told that anyone with the dignity to read words should be grateful, though I was never familiar with texts particularly, from the hard cover. I gazed at the plain cover made out of goat’s skin with words embroided, it was terribly old and overused thought some how I felt as though it has been untouched left for so long that waited for my hand to open.  “//Anna!!//”  Sister Elizabeth woke me up in the next morning after that night. Her voices always screached as if it was ready the glass window to break down. I am exaggerating about her indeed, though she was certainly not most pleasent thing to behold in this earth.  “What are you doing in Sister Lorna’s bed room” she asked in the usual stern tone.  “I…, I was just taking the last moment to feel her presence sister, I miss her so dearly.”  “Huh, that swine, she thinks she could do anything she wants. I am glad that she finally left this House. You are a fortunate little sod aren’t you, very fortunate indeed.”  She threw me a broom stick and shouted at me “Do the floor until its spotless!” then turned to shut the door and looked at me again, “Don’t you stand there like a useless sculpture, and follow me!” I hurried to follow her feet. It was already decided that Lord Edward, our highest authority of the Church refused to replace me from the village, they had replaced my grandmother instead of me. The entire village except for the poor found her distasteful. Since she has been vanished, I was to attend for hours of labour to earn my place. Like Sister Elizabeth mentioned, I was a very fortunate little sod. Though I should be greatly thankful of my grand mother, I hated my life even though it was a sin hated my own life, it was that gift from the God. Sins? What sins? I can not even fully comprehend the word that is so disgraceful and sour. Even the filthy orphans who lived on the roads mocked me. Every time I swept the corners of the cathedral, I ate the ball of hard ice with dirt as they threw them. A humiliation that lasted a life time and there I was, having no right to defend myself. This was the life in an utterly bitter world filled with sins which they called virtue. It was such a small narrow minded community dominated by the false justice of God, punishment intended for social manipulation and charlatans, who took advantages of the ignorant. They called me the “ W itch’s daughter.” the devil’s child. Perhaps my dear grandmother knew perfectly well about the numbers of horrifying facts that needed to be fixed. Yet she remained silent, in fact it was the wise decision for her security and also for my survival. She was a good lady not only as a nun; she was the only family member I had. Now every single day was the story of constant hard labour. I swept after another floor as Sister Elizabeth scowled me to and then wiped all the church windows till dusk. The only time I had for my own was at night in goat’s farm house lying on the soil. I watched the sky filled with glittering stars and wonder if there is any place up there left for me, then I remembered about the book hiding with a sheet if blanket.  As I slowly opened the page, I cut on my thumb. A tiny drop of my blood dotted on a page. Although the book was terribly old, the papers were plain white as the silica sand on a clean shore. All of a sudden, a scarlet stain spread immensely on a blank paper and created a page full of words. The letters were in the colour of my blood and it spoke to me silently in my head with whispers. Now I knew why the villagers were so intimidated by witch crafts, the talking words were terrifying indeed.  I opened up the first page and saw the small sentences appeared to speak, I then flipped to the first page and saw a picture of a mirror which was an undecorated oval reflection with a black image. Below the oval reflection was the text that mentioned “//Do you want to know where you belong? Then look into the darkness//” I concentrated my eyes hard into the image for long though nothing had occurred. But I then soon felt the queer sensation. The darkness expanded the stretched larger and goat began to jump around in terror. People say a soul should be kept within oneself but this was a reasonably an odd moment that made me sensed that my mind has been separated from the body. .    I wanted to run, but it was too late. I entered like a sinking ship on the quiet sea of the dead. It did not hurt, I did not feel a thing but that petrified me even more. I lost my breath completely and heard voice that sounded lonely and lost just like mine. The quick sunlight flashed the entire space and I was blinded. I found myself in an empty room with a mirror, the same oval image except that there was someone in it. It was a girl, a beautiful girl in a red silk gown with her silver hair that resembled with the colour of the stars. I took a step forward to look at her and spoke. “You must be....” “I am you mother, Chlorra was my name” the fair girl answered without opening her mouth. “I had you when I was just about your age. I was also naive as well trying to runaway from my family because I couldn’t stand my father who was always drunk and abusive towards my mother but it wasn’t successful. ”   “Are you truly a witch?” I ask in a hesitating voice. “No I am not; they called me with that venom name just to kill me. Nobody would listen to an unmarried maiden with a child who fell for the wrong man...; well perhaps he was wrong for my family. I wrote my very though in this book with my own blood and the bird’s wing then gave it to your grandmother who was my mother in-law and generously, she took you in as a baby. You are not a devil or a sin...” “But why is it that my grandmother has kept silent about you?” “She just wanted to protect you Anna. Remember that you are gift of love, not hate” I saw my mother vanishing into the light just like grand mother did in the snow. I wanted to catch her hand, yet I grasped the air. I woke up; my gown was all soaked with sweats and dirt. I looked every corner of the room to It was the late dusk accompanied by the ravens, they sang about a strange moonlight gleam ing as the snow fell. It was a terrifying ly cold night, though my skin was too numb to feel anything but curiosity.
 * THE WITCH’S DAUGHTER ** –, Maria Hira 10 Blue