Chapter 2: Wounded ChildA Chapter by HelenAnd so it was that Leana found herself, all alone, outside the cave where Black Annis lived. She peered into the dark, dank entrance and shuddered. It was dark and foreboding, and she was very frightened. She had heard tales about this place and the fearsome old witch who lived here. Strange smells and strange sounds wafted out to where she stood, and the air was damp and had the feel of dark magic. Leana summoned all of her courage, taking a moment to switch on her internal light. She took two purposeful steps forward. She was determined to forge ahead, despite how frightened she felt. But she could not go in. This magic, it seemed, was not for her. Leana’s brow furrowed, “Why am I here then?” she wondered. She sat back, perplexed and then decided to see if there was another entrance to the cave. She explored the land around the cave and, although the night was pitch black, it did not have the same sense of oppression and foreboding that Leana had experienced at the cave entrance. Leana approached a small clearing where she heard the strangled cry of an injured animal. She wanted to see if she could help, but as she drew closer, her fear returned. She began to make out the shape of a large animal, and she was not at all sure that it wouldn’t attack her, especially if it felt cornered. As she cautiously approached, the shape unfurled, and to Leana’s amazement, it took the form of a child. Closer still, Leana could see that it was a girl, aged about eight years old. Darkness surrounded the girl, who was still moaning and crying. Despite the darkness, Leana could see the shocking state of the girl’s body. The girl was filthy, and her hair matted. She was covered from head to toe in a black sticky substance, with small white worms wriggling on the surface. Black ash was smeared on her face, arms and legs. Tears rolled down the girl’s face, creating two sad lines through the grime. Leana moved closer and she saw the girl’s strange, grey, saggy skin, and the sores and scars on her body. Leana felt the pain as if it was her own, and her heart felt close to breaking. She reached out, “What is your name?” she asked. The girl took a great sniff and wiped snot and tears from her face with one grimy hand. “My name,” she began, “My name is ‘Poor Poppet’, my name is ‘Dirty Toad’, my name is ‘Did You Hear About Poor Jim Dolan?’, my name is ‘Alone’, it is ‘Scared’, it is ‘Ugly’, it is ‘Clumsy’, it is ‘Uncared For’. My name is ‘Abandoned Child’.” The girl stood suddenly and drew herself to her full height. “My name,” she declared, “is ‘Poor Poppet’, it is ‘Dirty Toad’, it is ‘Did You Hear About Poor Jim Dolan?’ My name is ‘Misery’, it is ‘Jealousy’, it is ‘Liar’, it is ‘Thief’, my name is ‘Wayward Child’. My name is ‘S**t’, my name is ‘The Problem’ and my other names are ‘Poor Poppet’, ‘Dirty Toad’, and ‘Did You Hear About Poor Jim Dolan?’” Perhaps the girl’s acute distress had come from thinking about this for a long time, or perhaps the thoughts were new and had come suddenly. Either way, she collapsed on the ground, distraught and exhausted from the effort. She hugged her knees to her chest and moaned. Again, Leana felt the pain cutting though her own belly like a knife. She held out her hands, turning them towards the sky, as if to receive whatever blessings were available to help. She closed her eyes. “No!” she said, “No, that is not your name. You are Wounded Child, and you bring great gifts, and I think I know why you are here.” The girl looked at Leana through murky layers of shame and pain. Leana continued, “The magic of Black Annis is for you, Wounded Child. Only you can go back and make the wrong that was done right again. Only you can sing the song that will restore us to wholeness.” “Please come” said Leana, “Please come and let me show you. I will shine my light through the darkness”. Wounded Child looked at Leana, and something in her shifted a little. It had been such a very long time since she had seen anyone. Helen, and even Teddy, were long gone and she had almost forgotten the pain of her abandonment, masked as it was by more recent layers of physical and mental pain. She rose to her feet again, feeling heavy with filth and sadness, but noting within her a tiny glimmer of hope. Leana reached for the older girl’s hand, but Wounded Child snatched it away. “It’s dirty!” she said “Please do not touch me. You will ruin your pretty hand, and your pretty white dress.” “It’s beautiful!” retorted Leana. “It’s a fine hand, and I would like to hold it. It is perfect as it is, for it is exactly as it is meant to be.” Wounded Child was startled by this. Nobody had touched her for such a long time, and the few stragglers that had come by had either fearfully avoided her, or they had abused her, because of the filth that surrounded her very being. Leana smiled, extending her hand again. “Come lovely child, hold my hand.” Wounded Child moved her hand forward ever so slightly, and then thrust it into Leana’s before she changed her mind. When their hands joined, the feeling was electric. The warmth, the love, the light that flowed silently from one girl to the other through their united hands. And oh! The understanding! The understanding and the knowing and the feeling that the two shared, as if they were a single entity. “Come, Precious Wounded Child.” said Leana, and Wounded Child wondered how it could be that this very young child seemed to have such wisdom and compassion. By the time they reached the entrance to Black Annis’ cave, both children were feeling strengthened by their bond, and by the presence of the other. Leana spoke, “This magic is for you, dear Wounded Child.” “You need to know that your task will not be easy, but I promise you that I will be waiting right here for you. I promise you that I will not move until I see you again.” © 2021 HelenFeatured Review
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3 Reviews Added on January 3, 2021 Last Updated on January 4, 2021 Tags: fairy story, personal growth. healing, addiction, alcoholism, childhood trauma, recovery AuthorHelenLuton, Bedfordshire, United KingdomAboutWhen I joined WritersCafe, I originally posted the poems I had written as part of my personal healing journey - childhood trauma to alcoholism to recovery. I wasn't sure if my writing would be of inte.. more..Writing
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