Dream
Week one entry for brigits_flame .
Prompt: Luminary
Wordcount: 900
Note: This was supposed to continue past its current ending, but I ran out of time. Perhaps I will finish it at a later date.
Dream
Helen curled up on the pile of dirty straw in the corner of the cell. It was damp and moldy and stank of urine and the feces of rodents. She covered herself as best she could with the tattered remnants of a dress that had been so fresh and tidy just days before. Tears leaked from her eyes and trickled their way down her bloody cheek. She didn’t mean to cry, she didn’t want to and tried to stop, but onward they flowed.
The small trap door in at the front of her cell door opened and a dented and warped pewter plate was thrust forward to slide across the stone floor. It contained the same thing it had every meal for the last five days: dry brown bread and thin, watery gruel.
Helen gave a strangled cry as three rats came skittering out of crevices in the walls to feast upon her meal. They squeaked and squabbled over the food, the largest grabbing the entire hunk of bread in his mouth and retreating back to his hole. The other two lapped up the gruel till it covered their faces, paws and whiskers. One climbed right into the mess and continued eating.
The woman turned away from the sight to face the wall instead. She’d let all her meals go to the rats after the first, but seeing them never got easier. She didn’t understand how this had happened. They were calling her a witch, but she didn’t know anything about witchcraft! She knew thing or two about herbs, and could cure just about anything that ailed a person. But that didn’t make her a witch anymore than being a gardener did! She was devout, went to church each week and sometimes more; attended confession and said all the prayers she was required. And yet, someone had turned her in as a devil-worshiper. The thought brought tears to her eyes again. After all she’d done for the people in her village, not one of them had stood up for her when she was taken away. They all believed that she was guilty.
Darkness fell and the sounds of the other prisoners gradually died away as they descended into sleep. The lantern that hung near Helen’s door was extinguished and she was plunged into darkness. She shivered. The cell was cold and drafty. They’d taken her shoes and stockings as well as the shawl she had been wearing when she was arrested. She had been forced to strip while her skin had been cruelly examined for any marks or blemishes that would indicate she was in league with the devil. She’d been beaten and tortured in effort to convince her to admit her guilt. But Helen maintained her innocence throughout.
As she lay on the straw, clutching her bruised and bleeding hands to her breast, a glimmer above her head caught her eye. She sat up on her knees to get a better look. There was a small crack in the stone wall that made up the outside of the jailhouse. She’d not noticed it before, and it was scarcely wide enough for a slip of paper to fit through, but the faintest glow could be seen. Helen pressed an eye to the crack, hoping to see where the light came from, but it wasn’t wide enough, nor the light bright enough to see anything.
She slumped back down on her pile of straw and wondered if perhaps the light belonged to a house. She had been brought to this place with her hands bound and a sack over her head, so she had no way of knowing what lay beyond the walls. She decided then that it must be a house. Inside there would be oil lamps with real glass chimneys that sat on brightly polished tables and they would be giving off a soft glow. There would be a woman preparing a wonderful meal for her family. Roast goose with potatoes and carrots. Cranberry jelly, and pie for dessert! There would be children, a boy and a girl-no, a boy and two girls. All with golden hair and sky-blue eyes. The boy would be helping his father mend harness while the eldest girl helped her mother. The other girl, and youngest of the lot would be entertaining a fluffy grey cat with a bit of string.
Soon, they would all be sitting down to dinner and enjoying their feast. After they ate and the dishes were cleared, they would all go to the sitting room. Mother would knit in her rocking chair and father would read from the Bible while the children played on the large rug in front of the fireplace. Afterward, they would all go upstairs. The young ones would all dress in soft white nightgowns and crawl into soft feather beds with crisp, clean white sheets and warm patch-quilts over them. Their parents would kiss them on their foreheads and wish them sweet dreams before going to their own room.
Helen smiled as she created this fantasy in her head. Yes, surely that must be where the light was coming from. And thinking this, she fell asleep as well, still dreaming of the family in the cozy house with the glowing lights.
Prompt: Luminary
Wordcount: 900
Note: This was supposed to continue past its current ending, but I ran out of time. Perhaps I will finish it at a later date.
Dream
Helen curled up on the pile of dirty straw in the corner of the cell. It was damp and moldy and stank of urine and the feces of rodents. She covered herself as best she could with the tattered remnants of a dress that had been so fresh and tidy just days before. Tears leaked from her eyes and trickled their way down her bloody cheek. She didn’t mean to cry, she didn’t want to and tried to stop, but onward they flowed.
The small trap door in at the front of her cell door opened and a dented and warped pewter plate was thrust forward to slide across the stone floor. It contained the same thing it had every meal for the last five days: dry brown bread and thin, watery gruel.
Helen gave a strangled cry as three rats came skittering out of crevices in the walls to feast upon her meal. They squeaked and squabbled over the food, the largest grabbing the entire hunk of bread in his mouth and retreating back to his hole. The other two lapped up the gruel till it covered their faces, paws and whiskers. One climbed right into the mess and continued eating.
The woman turned away from the sight to face the wall instead. She’d let all her meals go to the rats after the first, but seeing them never got easier. She didn’t understand how this had happened. They were calling her a witch, but she didn’t know anything about witchcraft! She knew thing or two about herbs, and could cure just about anything that ailed a person. But that didn’t make her a witch anymore than being a gardener did! She was devout, went to church each week and sometimes more; attended confession and said all the prayers she was required. And yet, someone had turned her in as a devil-worshiper. The thought brought tears to her eyes again. After all she’d done for the people in her village, not one of them had stood up for her when she was taken away. They all believed that she was guilty.
Darkness fell and the sounds of the other prisoners gradually died away as they descended into sleep. The lantern that hung near Helen’s door was extinguished and she was plunged into darkness. She shivered. The cell was cold and drafty. They’d taken her shoes and stockings as well as the shawl she had been wearing when she was arrested. She had been forced to strip while her skin had been cruelly examined for any marks or blemishes that would indicate she was in league with the devil. She’d been beaten and tortured in effort to convince her to admit her guilt. But Helen maintained her innocence throughout.
As she lay on the straw, clutching her bruised and bleeding hands to her breast, a glimmer above her head caught her eye. She sat up on her knees to get a better look. There was a small crack in the stone wall that made up the outside of the jailhouse. She’d not noticed it before, and it was scarcely wide enough for a slip of paper to fit through, but the faintest glow could be seen. Helen pressed an eye to the crack, hoping to see where the light came from, but it wasn’t wide enough, nor the light bright enough to see anything.
She slumped back down on her pile of straw and wondered if perhaps the light belonged to a house. She had been brought to this place with her hands bound and a sack over her head, so she had no way of knowing what lay beyond the walls. She decided then that it must be a house. Inside there would be oil lamps with real glass chimneys that sat on brightly polished tables and they would be giving off a soft glow. There would be a woman preparing a wonderful meal for her family. Roast goose with potatoes and carrots. Cranberry jelly, and pie for dessert! There would be children, a boy and a girl-no, a boy and two girls. All with golden hair and sky-blue eyes. The boy would be helping his father mend harness while the eldest girl helped her mother. The other girl, and youngest of the lot would be entertaining a fluffy grey cat with a bit of string.
Soon, they would all be sitting down to dinner and enjoying their feast. After they ate and the dishes were cleared, they would all go to the sitting room. Mother would knit in her rocking chair and father would read from the Bible while the children played on the large rug in front of the fireplace. Afterward, they would all go upstairs. The young ones would all dress in soft white nightgowns and crawl into soft feather beds with crisp, clean white sheets and warm patch-quilts over them. Their parents would kiss them on their foreheads and wish them sweet dreams before going to their own room.
Helen smiled as she created this fantasy in her head. Yes, surely that must be where the light was coming from. And thinking this, she fell asleep as well, still dreaming of the family in the cozy house with the glowing lights.