My body was on fire. Everything hurt. My thoughts burned.
Water ran down my face. There was something heavy blanket. My arms were under a heavy blanket and it took a lot of strength to lift them. I touched my forehead.. There was a wet cloth. I groaned. I tried to open my eyes but they were heavy.
The room was brightly lit and blurry. A dark object moved toward me. My eyes shut against my head and felt my head roll back.
I opened my eyes immediately and gasped for air. I felt better and had more energy but my surroundings were different. My brain was still fuzzy. My body was covered in sweat. At my lap was a wet cloth. It must have fallen off my forehead, when I sat up.
The warm light was gone and the room was dark. The air was cold and chilly. My body seemed very light and strange. The icy air went straight to my bones. A blanket covered my legs. I pulled it up and covered my chest after I realized something very essential.
“I’m naked,” I whispered to no one in particular. I was naked. That’s right. No clothes. Only a blanket.
I checked out my surroundings. The room was quiet large, roomy and simple, made from wood. It was filled with sewing supplies, fabrics, junk, and few pieces of furniture, including the bed I was in. My chest was in the center on the room, completely unharmed. There was a small window to my left. From it I could see it was only dawn. There was light far away, against the dark, clear sky. Near the window was the door leading outward. On the opposite side was a huge fireplace. Near it was a dark corridor or what it seemed like.
I’ve never felt so alive yet so dead. The cold air prickled my skin and my eyes were open wide, almost as if I woke from a hundred year sleep.
What felt like a few minutes, I was awake, absorbing my surroundings and dazing off.
As the light filled the room, everything became alive. Soon birds started to chirp.
An old woman entered the room from the dark corridor. . I watched her as she loaded fire wood into the fireplace and lit it. She then turned to me.
She was tall for an old woman with very good posture. She was clothes in a long dark dress with a light shawl draped over her shoulders. Her white hair was in a tight bun with a few strands sticking out in all directions. By the look on her face, it was easy to see that she was worn out and not that old.
I found myself moving back, as far as I could from the old woman. She had a sense of familiarity and I knew, for some reason that I should respect her.
She came toward me like what seemed like gliding. She had the grace of a queen not a humble old lady who lived in the middle of a forest.
She frowned at me and pushed me down, so that I laid flat on the bed. She had the strength I did not expect for her to have.
“So, you are feeling better?” she asked with a voice as rich as honey.
I nodded quickly.
“Oh,” she replied. She turned from me. “You were very sick but it wasn’t anything difficult to heal. All you needed rest and some care. You were very dirty and massy but I cleaned you up. If I didn’t find you then you would have been dead.”
I was going to sit up again but thought better of it. I called after her, “Th-thank you ma-am.”
She looked at me sternly, “Don’t stutter. It’s very un lady-like.”
I raised an eyebrow.
She continued, “You are very lucky that I saved you. I first thought you very some large, dead animal. You must care about your appearance.” She motioned toward my hair.
I sat up and tugged my hair. “There is nothing I could do about it.”
She sighed and glided out the door. When she returned from outside, she had a bowl filled with water. She then took out a bag and poured some of the contents into the water.
“This is rainwater and those are lily petals.” The old woman then placed the bowl on the bed near the bed and mixed it slowly with her finger. “Just wait now,” she nearly whispered. I stared at the water for the longest time. I barely noticed her leaving and coming back. She held a large comb. She motioned with her hands for me to sit up. I grabbed the blanket and held it to my chest. I sat up and turned my back to her.
She took the ends of my hair and dipped it into the water and began to comb it. At first it was difficult but it got easier and soon she could brush the comb through my hair with the same ease as running your hand through water.
“Your mother had the same difficulty, I taught her my secret,” she said. Then, she stopped.
I slowly turned to her, bewildered. “You knew my mother?”
She looked away and chuckled, “Who didn’t know Kristina?”
“How did you know I was her daughter?”
She looked at me like I was crazy, “You look so alike.”
I blushed and looked down. For the longest time she looked at me as if she was deciding something. I ran my hand through my hair.
“Thank you. It feels just like mother’s.”
She gave me a warm smile, “Be sure to try to do this every week or after ever rain fall.” She handed the comb to me and stood up. “Comb your hair some more then get some rest. Your body needs sleep. I will feed you sorry self tomorrow.” She stopped at the corridor and then half turned to me, “You may call me Magdalena.” She then disappeared into the corridor.
Magdalena, I thought to myself. Finally, someone that cares about me.
I brushed my hair for a long time. It was the best feeling to run the comb through my hair and not stop at a knot. My hair felt so soft. I laid down on my back, feeling my hair through my fingers. I didn’t even realize I fell asleep.
YOU ARE READING
Cinderella's Tears
Teen FictionSometimes the Cinderella life isn't so glamorous. The road to love and royalty is dirty and bloody.