The River

She had gone down to the river to drown. Her swollen feet, aching with every step, all but cried out for mercy as she stopped at the shore, tired eyes glancing all around in fright and exhaustion.

She slowly brought herself to sit on the ground, feeling the aches and pains in her body. She must have looked a complete mess if anyone could find her, not that they would. She had sought this spot out for years, the solitude bringing her peace.

But now she was not alone.

She glanced at the child in the bundle at her side, no more than a few weeks old. She reached down and brushed off a small piece of dirt from his face, wishing she could have seen him grow tall and strong, fair as an ocean breeze in the sails of a ship. But today was their day of reckoning.

Her long red hair was tied back from her face, but something else red trickled down from her head. A wound had reopened, turning her pale skin into a patchwork mess of white and red. The black bruises all over her body spoke of immense pain, and her shoes were no more than sodden bandages anymore.

She moved them forward, soaking her feet in the icy cold of the river. She wanted to cry out, both from the cold and the sudden shock of pain that rushed up them, but she bit her lip, tears welling into her eyes until her feet were nothing but numb.

Her clothes were torn, as was her skin. More blood dripping and drying in the faint spring light. Never before had she come to this place in such a sorry state, but never before had she needed the water as much as she did now.

She took her son into her arms, and slowly stood, more tears welling as she once again put weight on her aching feet. But she did not let loose a single cry, stepping forward and allowing the hem of her dress to soak up as much of the water as it willed.

A tear, mixing with her blood, rolled down her cheek, and fell into the water without her even noticing. She held her son close to her chest, keeping him as warm as she could until his last moments.

A faint ripple spread out from the tear, and the woman continued forward, water now up to her knees, when suddenly she heard a voice speak.

"What seek you in my river?"

She whirled in fright to see a man standing at the shore. She scrambled for anything to defend herself with, but found nothing. She had come here to die, why would she have brought anything, save herself and her son?

"Stay back!" She said, holding her son tighter. She had been violated enough in this life. She would not let this man do the same as her husband had. She would end this life in peace, and heaven be damned if she didn't.

The man seemed surprised at her tone, and she quickly took another few steps back, nearly falling in as she scrambled backwards. He raised his hands as if showing her he was unarmed, and then took one gentle step forward, his feet set in the water.

"You are injured." He stated, voice gentle and kind. He was clearly trying to show he wasn't a threat, but she was too wary after all this time.

Then she froze in place. This man was not normal. He wore garments entirely made of white, and an unearthly glow surrounded him, an aura like that of an angel, yet this was no angel. She took another step or two back in panic, and then stumbled.

In a moment, he was there, catching her before she plunged into the water completely, and slowly lifting her out of the water. She winced when he reached for her head, but his hands, wet from the water, did not press on the wound.

"Who did this to you?" He asked, shocked at the wound he found when he brushed back her hair.

She said nothing as the man examined the wound, but then spoke at a whisper. "The father of my son."