Of Love That Crossed The Worlds

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The girl walked out of the brightly lit house, silent like a mouse, hoping that no one would notice her absence and call her back in. They always had something for her to do, even this late in the evenings.

She peeked into the near perfect darkness of the enormous garden surrounding her father's house, watching the supple stems of grass and flowers sway in the increasing wind, thinking that maybe she should stay inside. She could sense the weather changing-- soon it would start raining. But a little rain was better than staying in the house, the girl decided quickly, then, barefooted, she tip-toed  down a short marble staircase and made her way down a long, white gravel lane meandering across the garden, the heaving sea of blooms, towards a distant copse of trees where her mother's grave was.

A clasp of thunder,  announcing the approaching storm, startled her. She wiped a couple of tears running down her cheeks into the sleeve of her once white shirt she wore under a threadbare, bright blue frock, and took off running, reaching the lone grave in no time.

There she hid under her favourite tree-- a hazelnut that had grown unusually large for its kind. She remembered planting it when it was just a sprig brought to her by her father from one of his travels a few years ago, just after he remarried.

The girl sobbed at the thought of her father's new wife and her two daughters, the three women who had made her their maid the moment they moved into their house. She never complained to him about it, though; she knew how much he loved his second wife and did not want to spoil his happiness.

Another thunder disturbed her thoughts, sounding much closer now, even as it started to rain. The first huge drops of water fell to the thirsty, dusty ground, dispersing the late summer's heat, but, despite starting to feel cold, she refused the idea of going back home. Anything was better than returning, even sleeping inside this tree... she thought, realising for the first time that the tree's trunk was cracked and hollow inside. Guided by the lightning closely following the previous one, she pushed through the long grass interlaced with the tree's lowest branches and walked inside it.

The place she found inside the trunk was a perfect hideout, a small, cosy, wooden cavern. No one would ever find her there. She smiled as she looked around the warm and dry nook, illuminated softly by a strange light coming from nowhere and everywhere at the same time.

She turned round in a near complete circle before she realised that she wasn't alone.

"What are you doing here?" she asked the dark-haired boy sitting at the other side of her den, not far from what seemed to be another crack in the tree's bark, yet another entrance.

"I could ask you the same," he said fiercely, his black eyes rooting her to the spot. "Who are you? Speak!"

She took a deep breath. The boy looked wild and scary, but this was her tree, and if he wanted to stay here, he would have to behave nicely. She had had enough of people treating her like this at home.

"You first," she insisted, her legs itching to run away from him. But she just clenched her fists at her sides and stood her ground bravely.

The boy shook his head, surprised by this girl's courage. He observed her carefully as he stood up, stretching to his full height. He was at least a head taller and a couple of years older than this short, blonde, blue-eyed, and fragile-looking girl. A pretty girl at that, he noticed approaching her slowly, then towering above her menacingly.

She could not be older than fourteen and had been crying recently; her cheeks were still damp. Yet here she stood now, brave, unflinching, not permitting his manners to intimidate her.

Feeling ashamed of himself, he smiled at her.

"Let's start again. I'm Heathcliff."

She nodded, unclenching her fists, making him realise that she was scared of him. Making him want to... apologize and reassure her...

"I'm Ella. A cinderwench from that manor," she said, pointing towards the opening through which she had walked inside. "This is my tree. How did you get in here?" she inquired, voice shaking.

"Well, it must be our tree then; it's been growing behind the house ever since I set my foot to Wuthering Heights for the first time. I just never noticed that its trunk was hollow until tonight."

"Welcome to our tree then. Nice to meet you," the girl said, smiling at him warmly, surprising him by her cordiality. Not many people treated him like this-- like an equal, like a friend... "Shall we sit down?" she offered.

Then she sank to the floor even before he replied, her legs unable to hold her upright any longer. She found this boy dressed in clothes at least as rugged as her own, intimidating but interesting and mysterious at the same time.

"What are you hiding from... Cinderella?" he asked, his black eyes, now sparkling with humour and mischief, holding hers as he sat in front of her, cross-legged.

"My stepsisters and their mother," she said, smiling at him again, accepting the nickname. "You?"

"Rain," he said quickly, letting his gaze drop to the floor. Then, as he looked into the girl's disarming sky blue irises, the most honest pair of eyes he had ever seen again, he added, "And Hindley. Since he got back home from college, he's even more jealous of me than before." He lifted his dark fringe a fraction, revealing the angry bruise from their last fight, making Cinderella gasp.

"My stepsisters are awful, but they never beat me, at least. Why don't you run away if they treat you like this?"

He shook his head, looking away from her, "Where would I go? And there's Cathy too..."

"Oh... I see," Cinderella said, looking away from him. Somehow, she did not like him mentioning another girl.

"What about you, why don't you leave?"

"Because of my father. He is not the man he used to be while my mother lived, but I could never leave him... And my stepsisters too, they are not that bad, they are... they are like that, that's it." She shrugged.

Heathcliff shook his head. This girl was... incredible. She seemed to be too good, too trusting and forgiving for her own good.

They kept talking until the storm raging outside, exhausted itself completely.

"I should go home," Cinderella said then, sighing, "they'll be looking for me." She stood up and walked to the crack in the tree trunk she had walked through before.

There she paused, quite unwilling to part from him. They had just met, but this Heathcliff already felt like the closest thing she had ever had to a friend.

Heathcliff followed her to the opening and outside into her world, unwilling to let her go.

Through the gaps in the foliage moving restlessly in the cool wind left behind by the storm, illuminated by the light of the full moon and thousands of stars, he observed a large, brightly lit house situated at the end of the long lane winding through an impressive garden, and far away, spreading on a hilltop raising from a lush forest, a huge, fairytale-like castle, complete with a small town sitting at the foot of its hill.

"It looks like a nice place," he murmured, comparing it in his mind to the old, timeworn manor surrounded by windswept moors and only a few trees strong enough to resist the constant, gusty winds.

"I'm sure yours is prettier. Because of your Cathy." Cinderella smiled at him, then she was gone.

"Wait, will we see each other again?"

"I hope so!" she called back to him, surprised by the way her heart stumbled when he asked.