Red Ribbon

A Story by Sara

for fun

Set face forward into the wind, the little girl’s nose was splashed with biting waves and salt water gnawed at her eyelashes. The mother held her by both of her hands as she leaned forward over the cliff until, if she looked down, it would seem as though she were falling into the rocky waters below. She closed her eyes and tried to calm her breath. The mother held her there, dangling by one or two toes on the wicked edge. The mother knew that if the girl’s feet slipped she wouldn’t be able to hold her by just her hands. ‘Lean just a little further, dear. Don’t worry, I’ve got you.’ The rocks below had a pattern about them, a shape as though they had been strategically placed there just for people to look at. The rocks wanted her to fall into them. Sea water made the cliff edge slippery and the little girl’s dress was soaked though to her skin.

‘Mommy I don’t want to do this anymore, what if I fall?’ The mother held her there nonetheless as foam from the crashing waves blew into her hair. From here, holding her daughter’s hands behind her back, the mother could pretend that the little girl was about to fly off that cliff edge and away from this place. With her daughter dangling over the edge, completely reliant on her mother, the woman could imagine that there would be an escape for the both of them. She breathed deeply and held her daughter’s hands more loosely. Maybe if she were to fall, she really could fly away from this place. Maybe it would be for the better. The sea could take her away, couldn’t it?

‘Ma’am, what are you doing? Pull that girl back! Pull her back! Ma’am it isn’t safe! What are you doing? ” A little man ran up the cliff behind her. The woman panicked and let go of her daughter’s hands. ‘Fly,’ she whispered. But it was too late. The man let out a cry of shock and despair and flung himself onto the edge of the cliff. He lay on his stomach and peered over the edge. Far below him, the little girl floated in the water. Her little white dress was surrounded by ribbons of red and as the mother stood shivering, she looked down upon her and thought how pretty the red looked.

The man turned to look up at the woman. Her dark hair had been caught by a flurry of wind and waves and blew like a storm cloud about her face. Her eyes were wild and her lips were blood red from biting them. On the man’s face was a look of utter disbelief after what had just happened. The mother knelt down beside him and laid a hand on his shoulder. ‘She’s free now,” she said calmly. ‘She’s safer now. And look at how beautiful my daughter looks.’

The man began to weep and scurried away from the woman. ‘That’s your daughter! How sick are you? How sick do you have to be?” He began his descent down the hill. There was a congregation of beachgoers at the foot of the cliff. ‘Help! This woman is a murderer!’ The mother smiled and rocked herself, thinking all the while about how her daughter’s dress had billowed as she flew over that edge.

‘Safe.’