Have We Not a Right to Live?

The Lady in White & The Person over the Water

Cuckoos chirped as they fled the crisp March morning. The trees shivered, and the brook hurried along to wherever the stream led. Sitting by the side of the water was a person alone, sitting on a rock overlooking the shallow waters.

"Good Morning," a lady robed in fine white clothes called out to the-person-over-the-water, "You're a ways from the trail, are you lost?"

The-person-over-the-water waved their feet in the air, "No, just thinking."

"Do you need someone to think with," she asked. 

The-person-over-the-water was quiet, and the-lady-robed-in-white hoisted herself up beside the other. The two sat in silence as the brook continued its rush and the trees continued to quiver. The Cuckoos flew, but some took perch in the trees about the two, as the-lady-robed-in-white and the-person-over-the-water bathed in the tranquil ambience of nature. 

"I," the-person-over-the-water began, but trailed off hesitant to continue.

The-lady-robed-in-white soothed, "I won't tell a soul."

"I don't like who I am," the-person-over-the-water whispered, "I look at myself and I'm disgusted at what I see. I look at my reflection and I feel like something's wrong, and whenever I hear someone call my name I just feel my gut sinking. I hope that there's a witch out here. So they can help me."

"A witch," she smiled, as a mother might when listening to their child, "they're very dangerous people, you know."

"Yes, I know that. But I hear they trade names! When I was little, my mom would always shout at me, 'those Witches in the woods will steal your if you don't listen to me!' And... I really hoped they were out here."

The-lady-robed-in-white nodded quietly as the-person-over-the-water slumped into themselves, disappointed.

"Ah, so that's who you are," she announced, "You were always fussy whenever I saw you. You were so small back then."

"You know who I am?"

"Of course! You probably don't remember me, you were very small when I last saw you. Not even a month old, I think. You always were complaining about this and that. I never saw what the problem was, but I do now."

"Are you," the-person-over-the-water whispered as if they were transgressing by merely talking, "a witch?"

"A witch? No. I'm an old friend of your mother's, and her mother's too. I can take your name from you, if you want, but you probably don't realize what I'd be taking."

The-person-over-the-water pouted, "I do! Why would I want the stupid thing? I hate it!"

"Yes, you hate that name, but is it your name?" The-lady-in-white offered, "It doesn't suit your temperament, I don't think."

The two were silent again. The trees were calm, the brook slower in its race from the hills, and the cuckoos resting in the trees around them. The-person-over-the-water looked to the lady, and tried to pin down how they knew each other.

The-lady-robed-in-white merely smiled and whispered into the-person-over-the-water's ear, "I hope you find your name soon. They're such loyal things, it'd be a shame to lose a beautiful name like yours."

The-lady-robed-in-white hopped down from the rock and continued back to the woods from whence she came.

The-person-over-the-water called out, "What's your name?"

She turned back for a moment and smiled. The trees bowed for her, the Brook continued its relentless march, and at last the cuckoos fluttered after her.