IT's Curse

1963- The Promise

On an evening in mid-December, where the village inhabitants (excluding the Bower's) had dropped to double digits, My was the only child left to do collections. Alongside her the older Bower's boys trawled the same areas, like a dying coral reef the search came up with nothing- empty nets. The middle Bower's boy with soulless eyes and a smirk whispered to his brothers as My hopelessly and desperately scanned the frozen land- tears stinging as they painfully dug into her cheek.

A firm, unwelcome hand coiled around her forearm as the oldest boy tailed the single file path that his brother led into the woods. Fearing for her safety, My was pulled between dead and rotten trees before reaching the pinnacle of this forgotten forest. As both the Bower brothers locked their eyes onto the raised chimney of the well, My took the opportunity and ran to its opening. A hopeful gaze downwards as she prayed that some how it contained fresh, drinkable water and not discoloured ice-mush like the others, was broken as the unholy snicker rupturing from the middle Bower's boy. He effortlessly swooped My from under the armpits and dangled her malnourished, sunken body over its mouth. Like defenceless prey in the wild, the rest of the brothers circled her and began to joke to the ring leader. 'What a waste of bones and whatever meat they carry' and 'drop her, we can see how far that thing goes down' was heard over the juveniles. The boisterous brothers began to run and shove each other, My was passed the fear- possibly ready to accept her place in Heaven and leave behind the winter tragedy. No one will even clock her absence if he does let go. Her mother, father and siblings were either dead or would be better that way- leaving her isolated with the exception of the Bower's family. Deep in memories, My's eyes had begun to glaze and slowly close despite the arguments happening she was in her own world with her family so close now. So deep in memories that as her body was released, her eyes failed to open. At a horizontal angle, the fragile, half-frozen body of My Skargard hit the warped bucket. 

Her frail frame not even causing the aged wood to splinter- as if her weight and presence was negligible. A loud cry of pain brewed in her stomach; low ribs protruded from tissue paper skin. Reality hit as hard as the rocks being thrown down the well by the boys. Swallowing the pain and curling into nothing within the basin- the boys lots interest and left the forest. My had dealt with her siblings and other children's scraped knees and blooded lips but not this. The darkness finally submerged her small form, she welcomed the cold to numb all of her pain- blinking and raspy breaths became slower and deeper as her eyes shut.