The Guardians Of The Lake (Dark Fiction)

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Music on:

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Once upon a time in a forest enchanted, dark, but lusciously green lived a girl with emerald green eyes. Her hair was long and shining red. Her skin white, with freckles decorating her delicate body. Red freckles of all sizes. Some were as big as her palm while others as small as her fingernail.

Beautiful. She was beautiful and lived in a small house, right in the middle of the lake of this forest. Her house was nothing more than a log cabin. Two windows to the front and two to the back. A wooden porch was there for her to spend her hours, sitting on her rocking chair, gazing at the lake and talking with the creatures living inside it.

She didn't pronounce any words though. She didn't talk to them using her voice. She talked using the powers of her brain and the animals understood her. Ever since she was a baby she could not produce any sound. Her cries would barely be heard. Her parents were so worried... at first. As she kept growing they became disappointed.

Disappointed with her for not speaking, with them for giving birth to a child that was not perfect, with God for sending them this child as a punishment. Her father would not even look at her. He would only tell her what to do around the house and his eyes would always be pointed at something else, someone else, somewhere else. Never on her.

She could not remember when was the last time her father had looked her in the eyes and uttered something nice to her.

- Liz, go get the firewood.

- Liz, go feed the chickens.

- Liz, water the pigs.

Her mother? Followed. She followed her husband's footsteps and ways of thinking.

- Liz, the laundry needs folding.

- Liz, the floor needs sweeping.

- Liz, the fireplace needs cleaning.

Ever since she was a child. No playing was allowed, no school, no friends, no siblings.

Liz was doomed to spend all her time at home, working around the house to pay for her sin, the sin she had been born with and took her voice away. What was it?

She had killed her sister.

Liz was a murderer from the womb.

She had a twin sister, another baby was sharing her mother's inwards and growing side by side with her. But Liz never let that baby see the light of day. Because Liz made sure her umbilical cord got tightly wrapped around her sister's neck. Liz started moving around in the womb, she was moving a lot. And the more she was moving, the tighter her sister's throat was squeezed.

Two babies were born on the same night with the full moon outside, lighting the way to the spirits of the forest around the family's cottage.

Two babies. One white, the other blue.

Neither cried.

One didn't have vocal cords, the other didn't have a pulse.

Ever since Liz was considered bad luck to this family. Their parents never tried to have another baby, they would not risk to go through the same ordeal again. Her father wouldn't risk it. He believed his wife was cursed and he had Liz as a living proof.

Some nights, when Liz was still a kid, she could hear the slaps and thumping noises and some sparse insults her father would spit on her silently weeping mother. The black eyes and swollen cheeks the next morning gave away a lot more.

- Liz, go polish your father's boots.

And the boots had some weird red stains on those days. She needed to rub them well to clean these stains off. She rubbed and rubbed and rubbed with moves violent, filled with anger, an anger that could never escape through her throat, an anger that she had learnt to turn to patience and obedience.

For years.

From childhood to puberty and just before adulthood...

- Liz, go chop some fire wood.

It was one of those nights again. Slaps. Thumps. Slaps. Thumps. Slaps. Weeping. Thumps. Thumps. Thumps. No weeping at all. Not even the heavy breathing she could make out in the silence of the night, even underneath her bed covers, when her head was trying to hide under that pillow with the white pillow case.

All these nights she remained a passive witness, clenching her one fist inside the other. Clenching hard, moving side to side in her bed. Clenching and doing nothing.

Not tonight!

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She got out of bed quickly. Walking on the tip of her toes, she slipped by the fireplace and headed to her parents' bedroom. The door was half open. The dim light from the oil lamp was falling on her mother's face that was now shining a dark red color. Her father was sitting at the edge of the bed staring at the lamp and sweeping his hands on the bedsheet. Once done he tossed it over his wife's face as if he didn't want to look at her mess.

- Liz, go pick the fire.

The half open door creaked and Liz barged into the room with the heavy fire poker in her hands.

It went once up and once down.

She left it inside her father's head and ran away, chased by the stream of blood coming off him. It was spreading quick. But she was quicker.

Running and running she made it to the lake. There was no chance she was going back, she had to get in it. She had to swim and make it to the little island in the middle, that island with the log cabin and the huge, old willow with the branches that kissed the waters.

She started swimming. Her clothes were getting heavy and it was difficult for her to keep her head above the water. She started sinking when she felt something pushing her upwards. She made it to the surface of the lake again and there she saw them, under the moonlight, there were four turtles holding her up and taking her towards the willow island.

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Her eyes were shining with gratitude.

All this time the animals were holding her, she could hear their thoughts. She could feel them through their shells.

They seemed to know what she had done, but they didn't care.

They also knew had she had been through and they considered it fair.

In the years to come, many people had tried to get on the island and take her back to the village. She was a murderer. She deserved to be punished.

Every attempt failed.

Boats would be overturned and even the best swimmers drowned. There was something inside that lake that dragged everybody to the bottom.

- Dark powers!

- The red-haired witch!

- The murderer!

- The curse!

People decided to leave her alone.

You know, it's not nice to go against the lake's will.

Let the sleeping dogs lie.

And the silent woman alone to die.

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Today I wanted to show you some of the cool photos I took yesterday, but it turned out that I made another dark story. Sometimes I can't help it...

I hope you enjoyed this one and I guess I'll show you the videos some other time, because they don't go with the mysterious atmosphere of the story and the music.

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*All images and original story by @ruth-girl - Steemit, 2018

 

Thank you so much for your time!

Until my next post,
Steem on and keep smiling, people!