The sun sat happily above the endless fields, watching, waiting for the day to begin. As a soft wind blew through trees covered in beautiful shades of green, flowers of many colours spread their pretty delicate petals to greet the early morning sun. Tiny insects danced atop the crystal clear water of a bubbling creek, ducking and diving between the flowers. Their laughter was joined by a symphony of birds as they found their resting place in the evergreen branches of the towering trees.
A bright blur of yellow fabric and tiny limbs, tumbled down a mountain sprinkled with daisies. The sweet scent of freshly cut grass drifting from the next paddock tickled her nose. Giggling she placed a crown of daisies lazily atop the messy braids her mother had finally woven together after hours of begging. She smiled brightly, prancing around the giant fields, skipping along with day old lambs. A sweet breeze caressed her face and played with her dress. A soft toy dog, worn with years of love, clutched closely as she spun with the gentle breeze.
The trees joined in with her dance as she made her way up the giant hill to a young tree, standing proudly away from the others. Bright rope hangs from a strong branch, a plank of wood attached to the end, creating the perfect seat for an adventurous little girl. Gliding through the air with a rush, she felt as free as the birds above, like the word couldn't reach her. As she flew, the birds returned her songs.
...The bright memory dimes and fades at the edges as the harsh reality comes crashing in...
An angry gust of cold, damp wind slaps my face, a reminder of the coming winter. As I glance up at a sky that is no longer the bright, beautiful blue that I remember, a giant lump of grey covers the sun, sad and dull with years of watching. The creek still bubbles but is neither crystal or clear but a murky brown, rising with recent rain.
The stench of muck attacks my senses as I make my way through overgrown grass that seemed to reach for me, tugging at my tired legs. I slowly walk up the hill, no longer a mountain but a slight rise in a field that doesn't seem as endless as it did back then. I hurry to protect the mask of makeup that now hides my flaws from the coming downpour. I search the neighbouring paddocks for any signs of life, but there isn't a wiggly white tail in sight.
The trees no longer dance - but creak with age. An arthritic old skeleton, the remains of a tree no longer young, bends in pain with the weight of a swing, now frayed and rotten, scared with years of torture. The swing moves empty in the wind, with the ghost of a little girl who used to laugh. I listen for the sweet songs of the nearby birds, but instead hear their pained cries.
No longer do I resemble the girl who once played here. Innocence lost to a world who had no intentions of protecting a little girl with a dream. Years of pain and loss had stolen the magic of this place. Nothing left but memories - once happy, now laced with pain. I smile sadly at the thought of all the times I had rolled down the hills, all the times I had danced with the lambs. Remembering all the imaginary friends that had left with no goodbye, the soft dog, long forgotten in the rush of growing up.
A small, bitter laugh escapes my perfectly painted lips. Funny isn't it - how only a few years ago I was smiling and laughing. Singing with the birds and dancing with the lambs. I had left in such a hurry, wanting to grow up but now all I want to do is go back. I want to go back to before the heavy chains of society and expectations held me. Back to when social status didn't matter. When the fear of making a mistake didn't choke me. Back to when it was okay to be different, okay to be me. I was nothing but a lamb, innocent and raised to follow, dancing around unaware of the slaughter that was inevitably waiting for me until it was too late, there's no saving me.
I was a lamb.
