Midas Curse and Other Retold Fairytales

Chapter 1: Rinth's Field

"The king went to the river as he was ordered: the golden virtue coloured the waters, and passed from his human body into the stream. Even now, gathering the grains of gold from the ancient vein, the fields harden, their soil soaked by the pale yellow waters."
- Metamorphoses X1: 85-145, Midas and the Golden Touch

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    Aria often fell asleep hearing the tin of her family's roof ping and bang with the brush of branches from about a foot from her face. Her brother's lower bunk was protected from the sound by her own bed and distance, creating a barrier.

              She didn't mind the brushing tree because she recognized it as the same tree she would climb up and stare at the far horizon from. She would look deep into the distance from the highest branch that was probably a pound or two away from snapping in half and leave her falling to meet the ground. The tree only yards away from her front door. It was on dark and stormy nights that she would toss and turn (in a disappointing semi-circle for lack of space) the dripping loud metallic tappings in a chaotic, dancing rhythm reminding her of every second of sleep she was missing.

              She counted them trying to lull herself to sleep imagining fluffy wooled sheep bending their tiny hoofs in preparation for a jump over a fence and then the graceful arch of their fluffy bodies bending through the air. Their light-footed landing with seamless strength and unbothered gazes only ignited her mind, waking her sleepy head up. The sheep became too boring, too common an animal and she thought of a different, rare one.

              A leopard came to mind almost automatically. In her head she watched it chase the sheep over the fence, nipping and biting at their small feet, a concise roar echoing in their direction and bouncing off walls Aria was too sleepy to imagine. The cat's roar with its high fluctuations into a deep growl frightened and mesmerized her so much that she replayed the sound she had heard on the tv over and over again. 

              She sighed, bothered that her plan to avoid the monsters under her bed had only disrupted her sleep more. She threw her soft blanket over her head giving in to her night of unrest. About fifteen seconds of dark vision and strained breathing passed before the heightened sounds of the milky way scared her a little too much. She yanked the covers off and was immediately frightened by the instant and overwhelming feeling of nothing the dark always gave her.

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🎧 Please play video for breakfast sound effects, if you want but be careful because it can be loud!🎶
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Aria opened her eyes for the eleventh time
having only taken naps that lasted about
twenty minutes each throughout the moon's
vigil. They were straining so hard she had to
take breaks almost blinking at an unnatural rate. Finally, she tried taking in the light from the window but her vision blurred with the weight of its vibrant energy and she pressed her lids together to keep it out. Still, it waved at her through the barrier in waves and stripes of blue telling her it was much too late to keep them closed.

             She looked down to her brother's bed where he was also stirring and stretching his much bigger form, his deep breathing, a true sign of a beautiful night of rest, a slapping offense to her. So she climbed down the smooth wooden ladder hanging a toe and then another down each rung until she finally reached an acceptable distance to jump onto her brother with her entire weight.  He awoke fully with a start and, grumpy at his interrupted process of rising, shoved her off the bed. Her feet still in the air she giggled as she fell to the carpet.

              She kicked her little heels up excitedly and rolling over jumped up for another attack. Her brother, readying himself into a defensive position with all the seriousness of a sergeant in his facial expression, was interrupted by an order of the general to the mess hall for rations to which he promptly obeyed doing the happy half-walk-half-dance that all children seem to know the steps of.

              Seeing the plate of waffles flooded with syrup, the melting butter like the foam off the surface of a sugary serene lake, made them both forget their war waging spirit. Food was a necessity when it came to morale.

              So the family ate. Papa went to work, Momma did too but only David got on the school bus as it rolled by in the dust of the street outside the large mobile home that never went anywhere. Aria had barely touched her waffles even though the look and smell of them had rushed her over, her small hands holding onto the table. She could barely eat a bite, the nausea rolling through her in waves, each one larger and more crashing than the one before.     

              Like most rainy nights this one had kept her awake and anxious with starts and gasps that the whole home had been woken up by at least once. And like most rainy nights it had left her unrested and haggard, in need of a day in bed. So they all left for the prison about seven miles out of town that employed most of its residents, except for Aria and Grandpa. Who sat in his chair reading a newspaper and listening to the low hum of the football game to the left of his good ear.

              Her parents had relayed to the older father that she should be resting and be given lots of soup and water. A gatorade or two also couldn't hurt. The door swung closed, it's clear netting only meant to keep out bugs and flies, let the two sickly hermits watch as all drove away.

              They would only see David before morning came again. Aria decided that to pass the time she could take a nap. The fact that she had not really slept and was nearly falling over with exhaustion didn't mean nearly as much to her as the fact that she had to while away her boredom somehow.