The Grimm

Forever Death and Sorrow

— 3 —

   The cool night passed quickly, while the stars and moon passed over the sky, then disappeared behind the horizon of mountains as the sun's light took over, illuminating the sky. A ray of sunlight made its way through the old wooden window frame of the small shack that had a small bit of moss growing on it, and lit up Agatha's face, as the light reflected off of her pale skin. Her eyes with their long thick black eyelashes, fluttered open to reveal her almost black irises. She sat up letting her thin old blanket fall to her lap, and the loose curls of her dark brown hair fell over her shoulders and down her back, the ends resting on her bed due to its length. She looked out the old mossy window frame, and at the rising sun. The sky was faded from a warm yellow orange at the horizon, to a soft rosey pink that seemed to glow. It was beautiful, and it looked full of life. Unfortunately, the same couldn't be said for Agatha. She felt that all she would ever bring to anything was death and hatred.
     She swung her feet off the bed and resyed them on the old worn wooden floor of the shack, and slid on her stif black leather boots, then laced them up tight with their black laces. She then stood up, letting her worn and faded black dress fall down to a few inches above her ankles. She grabbed the waist of her dress and readjusted it, as it had moved as she slept. She reached up to her mess of curly hair, and pushed it back and out of her face, then loosely wove it into a messy braid that fell down to her waist. She tied the end with a small scrap of cloth that she had torn off of her dress long ago. She walked over to the small table that sat next to the door, then slipped on her soft black leather gloves, and wrapped her cloak around her shoulders, buttoning it at the center of her collarbone. She looked down at the black rag she used as a mask lying on the table, then reluctantly tied it around her neck, just in case she was to run into someone wandering too deep into the woods, even though that would never happen. She then opened the door, and left the dilapidated shack and began to wander into the vast woods.

     She wandered through the woods on an old game trail, and listened to the dry leaves crunch under her feet. She softly hummed an old melody, and closed her eyes as a gentle breeze ran through the trees, rattling in the leaves, and through her hair, pushing loose strands across her face.
     She opened her eyes, then pushed her hair out of her face, then continued to walk until she came across a small purple wild flower sticking up through the layers of rotting leaves on the ground. She squatted down, and ran her gloved fingertip across the tiny petals. The flower remained unchanged by her actions. She let out a small breath then pulled her gloves off of her hands, and brought them closer to the flower. She kept the thought of not wanting to destroy its beauty running through her head, clinging onto the hope that she could someday have control of what she destroyed. She placed a single fingertip on one of the tiny purple petals, and waited. After a moment, the petal turned brown, and the others followed. The stem grew limp, and the wilted flower lay dead on the ground.
     Agatha let out a sad sigh of defeat, then slid her soft leather gloves back onto her hands, then stood up and continued to walk. No matter how hard she tried she was never able to control her power, and it often made her feel like some sort of monster. Killing everything and everyone in her path, with no control whatsoever.

     She continued to walk aimlessly through the woods, listening to the wind, the birds in the trees, and the sound of leaves crunching under her feet. She soon heard the pitter-patter of small raindrops landing on the green leaves in the trees and the brown and black ones on the ground. She pulled her braid over her shoulder, then pulled her hood up over her head, protecting herself from the rain. She continued to walk slowly on the tiny game trail, until she heard thunder booming loudly in the sky, and the rain began to fall harder and faster. She pulled the front of her dress up so that it would be easier for her feet to move, then held one of her hands on her head to hold her hood in place. She then began to run through the woods, weaving through trees, and jumping over rocks and roots that were in her path.
     In this moment she smiled to herself as she ran as fast as she could, because this was one of the few times she truly felt free. In this moment she was able to let go of everything. Forget that she was thrown away from her town. Forget that she was nothing but something people feared. Forget that she was seen as a monster. Forget about her curse. And forget about how all this had made her think of herself. Nothing but a burden to herself, her family that was now long gone, and the families of the evil people she killed.
     That was one of the hardest things that she had to deal with. The sorrow of the people who knew the people she killed. More times than not, the people who were closest to them, never truly knew just how evil they were. She would have to listen to their agonizing screams of pain as they discovered their loved one was lost, and all Aging could do was listen or walk away. She sometimes wished that she could go up to them and forgive them for what she had done, and explain why it needed to be done. But of course, she never could.