My Sorrows

The sound of water crashing upon the river shore sung through the air in its soft watery lullaby. It was peaceful. A place where no one would find her.

Pale feet filled with life slowly disrupted the river song; the splash of movement and thumping of water being pushed down under weight caused a dissonance in the night air. The moonlit sky radiated off the water’s surface beaming onto her tear streaked face, entrancing her into its watery depths. Her once pristine white nightgown is now slowly consumed in red. Slender fingers covered with blood slid along the water’s surface, cleansing the digits of the deed they had witnessed.

She faintly murmurs, “Forgive me my lord… Take my sorrows away…”

~*~

Hameln, 1270

Hameln. A small town growing ever in popularity as a major trading route in Germania while being an exquisite attraction for its serene glistening river that surrounds the town. The town of Hameln brings people from all over to witness its flourishing beauty.

Brick structures, alight with torches became a beacon of light to any lost traveler in the woods or nearby forests and waterways. These structures could be seen for miles like a trapped firefly amongst the surrounding darkness.

A young mother named Katrina, walked hand-in-hand with her son named Arvid, as they traversed the busy night life of the town towards their homestead. Her navy blue and white dress swaying gently about her ankles despite being weighed down by the black cape she wore about her shoulders to keep the night chill away, long dark, wavy brown hair put in a less than neat bun. While nestled in her other hand, a beautiful vibrant Cyani flower sat woefully in her grip; matching her current disposition. Her green eyes downcast as she walked down the cobblestoned streets she knew by heart. They had just visited the grave of her late husband who passed away eight months ago from a severe case of dysentery; leaving the now widow to raise their six year old son all on her own.

“Mutter? May we buy something from that man?” Arvid asked, pulling Katrina from her inner thoughts as she looked over to where her son was pointing. A stall where a man of distant lands stood, boasting his fine meats and wine from his homeland.

She would admit, the man made a convincing offer. Katrina shook her head, tugging the boy along the cobblestone streets instead, “Not today, Arvid.” She said softly, not in the mood to converse or bargain down the price. Silence developed between them, as they moved out of the way for a horse drawn carriage to pass through.

Arvid’s big blue eyes turned up at her filled with worry, “Are you well, Mutter?”

Katrina smiled tiredly down at the young boy. He looked so much like his father, “I have grown weary from the walk dear.” She said easily, Katrina hated to lie to the boy, but what else could she do? Arvid had already witnessed enough of her grief—there was no need to concern him with her erratic feelings right now.

Arvid nodded in understanding and asked nothing more of his mother. He knew something was amiss with her, but was too young to fully comprehend what was going on. His mother had told him that his father had left and wasn’t coming back this time like he usually did. She told him he was buried beneath the rock and couldn’t escape right now until they joined him later. That they were the key to unlocking him from his rocky prison. It... it didn’t make any sense to him. Arvid could only hazard a guess that the stone they often visit with his fathers name on it, was the rock his mother told him he was stuck under.

How would he release him? He wondered.

Arvid held Katrinas hand tighter when a sweep of cold air washed over them—billowing her dress about her ankles whilst others around them settled their goods, the flames of the torches flickering angrily.

“I’ll take ye sorrows away…” The soft rhythmic voice carried on the wind and caressed young Arvid’s ears gently. The boy came to an abrupt stop, looking around for the owner of the voice.

“Arvid? What troubles you?” his mother said, concerned.

“Did you hear a voice?” Arvid asked, with a sudden chill down his spine, coupled with longing curiosity.

“A voice?”

Arvid nodded, biting his lip nervously when his mother shook her head. He could have sworn he heard someone talking— no, singing to him. It sounded like his mother when she would sing him to sleep after tumultuous nightmares of rats he kept seeing.

He stood there for a moment. Waiting for the voice to speak again, but there was nothing. “I must have misheard,” Arvid sighed, continuing on with his mother as she started walking again.

“You must be just as weary as I am,” Katrina spoke softly, rubbing her thumb along the back of his hand comfortingly.

“I suppose…” Arvid sighed.

Suddenly, a mighty gust of wind crashed through the town. The force was so strong Katrina pulled Arvid into her bosom, holding on to him tightly as they kneeled against the wind to keep themselves from falling. The rushing waves blew out the torches basking Hameln into total darkness.

“To a place that’s thriving and new, a place where worries aren’t due…” Arvid lifted his head from his mothers neck at the sound of the voice that he heard earlier. Then, the wind calmed to a gentle breeze. He heard the clattering of something being drug along the cobblestone streets. Something… hollow. Lifting his head higher over his mothers shoulder in the direction of the sound, slowly, his blue eyes widened at a ghastly figure.

Pale, dirtied feet stood out against the darkness of the stone. A collage of furs and small limbs resembling lemmings, draped over the body of a frail woman. Her black hair slick and straggly, eyes gray and lifeless—seeing but unseeing. Thin blue lips formed words as she sung her haunting lullaby; a trail of water falling freely from chapped lips. She carried with her a large golden synth that she used as a cane; it pounded on the ground with each step she took, without a single sound heard...

Death is silent after all...

Skulls dragged along the ground behind her, bouncing hollowly and sending shivers up onlookers spines. Shadows then appeared behind her twisting and forming.

Katrina hurriedly got to her feet once she sighted the deathly looking woman, fear swimming in her green eyes.

“Vater!” Arvid suddenly cried, wrenching himself from her grip he ran towards the shadows that crawled on the ground.

“Arvid!” Katrina shouted reaching for the boy that slipped from her grasp and into the growing crowd. She noticed many other people cried the names of those they’d lost and embraced some type of figure of them. Why couldn’t she see what they saw? Why did she see rats instead of the loved ones they claimed to see?

“Come, O come, I’ll take ye sorrows away…”

She’s a witch! Katrina thought, running in front of the ghastly looking woman, “Stop! Let my boy go!” She yelled, her breath catching in her throat once the woman stopped in front of her.

White eyes stared into her very eyes when suddenly a cold wet hand snaked around her throat. Green eyes widened in fear and scratched at the unyielding hand before Katrina stopped in her mad attempt to get the woman to let her go. The once unidentifiable woman was now replaced with a young woman—even younger than she, with long black hair that reached midway of her back, saddened brown eyes filled with black tears rolled down unblemished snow white cheeks. Who…Who was she? And the gown… At one point it was a fine white night gown made of rich materials but the bloodstains that adorned near the woman’s pelvic area told a story of horrific grief this woman had gone through.

“Your boy… Is mine.”