"Mama always said" by Hostile_Jam

20 3 0
                                    

Mama always said she'd come back. I didn't think she meant like this.

My name is Elda Woodrow; only daughter of Cassandra Woodrow.

Mama always had a thing for spells. She once cursed our neighbors for stealing from our tomato plant. The large vine would stretch its arms over the dark wood fence, tempting the people on the other side with its plump, red fruit.

And finally! They could not resist! They plucked the juicy prize from the furry, green vine. Mama could sense the missing treasure and a shiver of hatred was sent down her delicate spine.

"Thieves!" she spat from our living room floor, where we sat crossed legged, pulling apart garden frogs.

"Who, Mama?" I asked with a frog leg entangled in my tiny fingers.

She said nothing as she bounced up on her nimble, bare feet. She peaked out the window, pulling back the blood red curtains, exposing a sliver of light into out dark home.

Curse words would roll off her tongue and slither into the cracks of our wood floor.

"What is the matter, Mama?" I finally squeaked, picking the left eye out of the still breathing frog.

"They have stolen our red fruit! They must pray for their crimes against us!"

Then foreign words would spill out of her stained red lips. She spoke with calmness as her dart eyelids closed, shielding her black eyes.

Her eyes flung open; "Now they will know not to commit such things against us!" she smiled.

"What have you done?" I pondered aloud. She laughed deeply, baring her white teeth.

"They will cry guilty tears, my child."

I did not know what she meant until the following day. I was out collecting roaches and slugs when I see the family next door sitting on their dry, grass yard.

I giggled to myself, knowing what was done. Purple and green warts covered their bodies. So much that you could hardly tell the true color of their skin. They wept and slathered themselves in white yogurt, hoping to cure themselves. The youngest still had tomato seed on his nose and chin.

I run inside with my roaches and slug to tell mother how absolutely comical it was. She and I laughed as she made delicious tomato soup and sun dried roaches to dip.

Those were the times when Mama and I were happy. We would teach anyone who did us wrong that we were not to be reckoned with. No one even dared to live near us. It was quiet; peaceful. But it was not long until all the peace came to an utter and unfair stop.

Mama was taken in the night. I heard her screams and rushed to her to see filthy barbarians holding her down, and tying her hands and feet.

"Mama!" I screamed as I ran to her. A man from behind me picked me up, concealing my arms behind my back. I kicked my feet in the air and my screams ripped at my throat.

"Hush you wicked child!" The men said slapping my face and covering my mouth with his dirty hand.

Mama became furious and started to recite one of her spells I have heard many times before. Her lips moved quickly as she looked at me with loving eyes.

"Shut the witch up!" a man yelled and they stuffed a cotton cloth in her lips.

They took us into the cold fall air. A few yards from our home was a towering wood cross; yellow straw flowered around the base of it. Hundreds of the people from the town were cheering and stretching their arms in joy.

My ears hummed with cheers and fingers pointed at me and Mama, who was no longer struggling. She was carried, limp in the barbarian's arms. They carried her towards the cross.

The moon was full. My ears stung as the cold wind whistled through my hair. The man holding me put me down, still holding my arms back with his sweaty hands.

"Mama!!" I screamed as tears ran down my numbed cheeks.

"Die witch! Die!" the townspeople chanted in the night. The men tied Mama's hands to the cross; then they tied her feet to the base. Mama's head hung low and her hair hid her beautiful face.

Then she looked up! Up into my eyes; I could sense her love.

"I will be back, my child." Mama's voice rung in my ears, but her lips weren't moving, "I love you, Elda."

A man threw a stick with red fire on the straw pile. I screamed with terror as the pile burned in flames. It has to be a dream. It has to be.

The fire crackled as it crawled up to the cross. Mama screeched in pain as her body burned. Her night black hair fell off her head like leaves in autumn. Her skin blistered and cooked into charred coal.

I watched as Mama left this earth unfairly. What did we do to deserve this?!

My soul died with Mama's. I was a mere statue.

"Do we kill the witch's offspring?"

"She is only a child."

"But she is a danger to us!"

"Send her to another town far north. She will be their problem."

'I am writing this on account of my mother's death. On October 31st, 1603 my mother was taken and killed. It was exactly 20 years ago, on this very day. I am now living in the house where Mama and I lived....'

I put my pen down and look out the window to the familiar, now bare, garden. I watch as a small furry vine springs out of the cold earth and reaches its arms over the wood fence. Out of thin air a bright red tomato sprouts and plumps up in seconds. I smile to myself.

"Hello Mama."

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