Posted in Fiction, Uncategorized, Writing

A Flower’s Revenge – A Dark Fairy Tale

Luscia of the spring morn, skin as fair as milk, with braids of gold down to her waist, wearing a silly dress of sky blue, was walking to town in her clumsy wooden shoes. She hummed off key, and kicked a pebble or two.

She had a basket of bread and cheese for lunch, as well as a few coins for some pretty bauble she might find. She stopped to pick some flowers, and proceeded to dismember them, and laugh uproariously at their fate.

Luscia began to collect a few to keep intact in a small blue vase in her window. She hoped they would keep their freshness and smell until she got home. Her armload got larger and larger until it was filled with various flowers and weeds.

She heard a rustle in the tall grass of the meadow, and had to stop, arms full of flowers for her vase, and her pleasure. She looked toward the noise, her tune now forgotten upon her lips. A red fox poked its head out of the grass briefly, and fled from the silly blue-eyed girl in the sky blue dress.

The girl followed the vibrant red till it was gone. Luscia let her flowers go for this new treasure, and ran after the fox giggling mischievously.

Luscia followed  the path easily at first, and began to hear the tumble of a brook or a stream. She went on a ways and soon the water became evident. The girl looked down at her wooden shoes in disgust; the bank of the stream was muddy and now so were her shoes. She looked to her pretty favorite dress and realized with dismay that she had gotten mud speckles on it as well.

Luscia’s mother was normally a very sweet lady, and would give her girl a piece of taffy if she were especially good. From the girl’s past experiences however, muddied clothes changed her mother into a demon of a woman, who was as likely to take the large wooden spoon in the kitchen to her behind.

Luscia was then at a crossroads. She truly wanted to follow the fox, but then she had muddied her dress all ready. There might still be time to go back home with her bread and cheese and the coins, and somehow win her mother’s forgiveness.

How to do that? Luscia came  up with no clear plan of action, which made her decide to follow the fox further. Her mother would be mad anyway, so she might as well continue on this path.

Luscia took a deep breath and started to walk forward considering herself brave. Soon, the girl began to be silly again, and started jumping and singing songs. Before she knew it, a root had caught her wooden shoe and she fell face forward into the briars on her right side. Oh, what a howling she started after that. If the fox had still been near that would have been his cue to run further away.

She cried as she pulled herself out of the brambles and brushed the debris from her dress. Now she was dismayed. Her dress was now covered with berry stains and dirt, and was torn in several places. It would need mending as well as cleaned.

The girl knew for certain that her mother would be angry at her now. She decided to continue to follow the stream, which she fancied would lead her to the elusive fox.

Luscia walked on, but caught no sight of the fox. It occurred to her then, that he might not be following the stream like her, and that he might have heard her cry in the briars.  She looked around her and saw that she was deep in a wood, and that it had gotten darker, much darker than when she had last looked toward the sky.

The girl heard her stomach rumble loudly, and glanced at the basket still on her arm, almost forgotten like the flowers she had long since dropped.

Lusica sat down on a nearby log, and contented herself momentarily with a piece of bread and cheese. She supplemented this with some choice blackberries and soon felt satisfied. The only thing she could wish for would be a cold jug of milk, and the red fox of course.

Luscia had been cheerfully thinking by the moment, and it now looked quite dark. She looked around her, and knew she had no idea where she was, nor how she would get home. The happy girl began to get afraid for the first time, and this feeling steadily increased, as she remained sitting on the log, terrified of the prospect of how to get home.

The fox was now finally forgotten, but it was too late for Luscia.

She cried out of fear and loneliness and wished she hadn’t strayed from the road to town with her basket. She tried to smooth out her ruined little dress, crying over the tears in it, and the dirt smudges on it. She stopped a moment, hearing another rustling noise in the nearby bracken.

The girl held still, and became quiet. In the daylight the rustle had been an adventure starting sound, at night in the dark woods the rustling took on a much darker meaning in her young mind.

She began to tremble, and debated internally whether she should run or stay where she was. The rustling became louder. The girl couldn’t sit on the log any longer. Luscia got up quickly, and began to run. Her wooden shoes stopped her again, and she tripped and fell to the ground a few feet from the log where she had sat.

The rustling had stopped and something now padded up to her. She saw no red, she could hardly see a thing it was so dark. She stumbled up, and discovered that her ankle hurt intensely. She had no time to think about it much, she threw off the remaining  wooden shoe and began to run barefoot. The thing lashed out, and she felt animal teeth bite into her foot. She yelled. She ran with a new purpose, and much faster than she had ever before.

The thing could be heard following her whenever it broke a twig on the ground, or if it went briefly into the bracken. Otherwise, the girl couldn’t hear it over her own harsh breathing and barely stifled sobs of pain.

She couldn’t see where she was going even, only going on, forward into more darkness, away from the thing.

It followed closely, but hung back a ways, as if it were waiting for something. The girl dropped her basket thinking maybe the cheese would distract it from pursuing her. This thing, whatever it was, didn’t seem to hesitate much over cheese,  because she could now hear it panting off to her left somewhere.

This creature of the night was obviously much faster than Luscia, and she knew it, but it wasn’t over eager to catch her and she didn’t know why. Perhaps, it was simply waiting for her to tire; perhaps it was waiting for more things to arrive. She shivered at the thought. This was no fox. Foxes didn’t go after children. Not even naughty ones. She had the name of it on her tongue, but dare not say what it was, although in her child’s heart she knew it very well.

She could dimly feel the many cuts on her feet, and the scratches on her arms, and even her face where a tree punished her lack of vision with the scrape of a low hanging branch.

Her sky blue dress was now in tatters, but she had no time to mourn it. Her long gold braids slowed her down too, getting tangled here and there, and she felt the pain when a chunk of it was yanked free from her head while she was running.

Luscia began to feel her energy waning, and although she tried not to slow down, it became difficult to keep her legs moving. She began to trip over her own bloody feet without the aid of her cursed wooden shoes.

The thing was hovering about her now. It moved in briefly, taking a jab at her with its white animal teeth. She fell. She could feel it now, as it tore at her bloody feet. Her terror made her scream, and then she went limp with fear. Her child’s heart gave way to its death, and she lost consciousness and never awakened to her dismemberment by the creature.

Luscia’s mother went in search of her child when night fell, but she went to the town, not the woods, and asked the baker if he had seen her, knowing that Luscia had some coins and had a liking for sweets.

He hadn’t seen her, and neither had the hat seller. Luscia always took a look at the hats, although she never had enough to buy one. Her mother returned home reluctantly, filled with sadness and anxiety.

Soon, the town had almost forgotten the little girl known as Luscia as the days went by. Tatters of sky blue cloth and a muddy wooden shoe were all that were ever found.

Her mother never did forget of course, and some of the other children were slow to forget, for their mothers’ didn’t let them out at night much after that.  Soon the children made a song out of the fate of poor Luscia.

‘Luscia of the spring morn, skin as fair as milk, with braids of gold down to the waist, a silly dress of sky blue,

Whence did ya go in the night? To the town with milk and cheese, or to the woods as much as you please!

Luscia of the spring morn, skin as fair as milk, with braids of gold down to the waist, a silly dress of sky blue, wooden shoes and silly tunes, flowers are for fools!

‘Whence did you go in the night? To the town with milk and cheese, or to the woods as much as you please?

When  the morn came to find ya gone, your mother went mad with grief to know that ya went to the woods, not the town, as much as you please, with milk and cheese!

‘Luscia of the spring morn, skin as fair as milk, with braids of gold down to the waist, a silly dress of sky blue,

Lost in the woods to the night, poor girl of the spring morn,  lost to the night, and for the wolves to eat like good, milk, bread and cheese!’

 

 

 

Advertisements

Author:

Singe mom, part time writer of primarily sci-fi and fantasy.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s