This Assignment is about what happened to my inner four year old. Enjoy!

Embers

“Where are we going?”

“You will see Little One.”

“Why are we going there?”

“Well Little One it is a place just for you.”

The four-year-old girl looked down in deep concentration as if pondering the complexities of reality.

“Will you be there?”

“Sometimes Little One.”

“Why do I have to go? I want to stay here with you.”

With a deep sigh the woman began the conversation she knew she was going to
have. The conversation she had spent too much time contemplating. The conversation she
knew would hurt them both where they meet in the middle, a conversation of protection and love.

“Ok little one I will tell you so listen closely.” The duo crossed The Hobbit like wooden bridge and began their last walk in each other’s company into the box.

“Little One the world is dark, and it is full of Monsters dressed as People. And these
People Monsters want to hurt you. Do you know how I know this? Because when I was a kid the People Monsters hurt me. You know that happy warm feeling you get in your heart. That feeling that tells you everything will be ok because you are loved? When I was the same age as you the People Monsters took that happiness and warmth and love from me. They ripped it right out of my belly when I was tiny just like you.”

The girl stopped suddenly, a virgin to reality, and asked with wide eyes “Is that going to happen to me?” As tears began to swell and cloud her vision.

With a choked chuckle the woman continued. “No Little One, that will never happen to you, that is why I built you your very own special box. This box. I put a special spell on it so if a People Monster tries to come in giant teddy bears rain down from the sky and seal the gates.”

And they continued on in silence.

Hand in hand they came upon a desert of the finest black and white sand draped dunes. The wind keeping them perfectly windswept. The temperature was on the verge of just being too hot. The sky was beautiful and filled with a white sun.

Looking around as far as the Little One could see were cactus and they were dressed in every color, shape, and size flower the Little One could imagine. Cactus that perpetually bloomed in the Little Ones presence. A desert that was forged just for her.

Together they passed the desert into the wondrous world of winter. A world borne where everything shimmered and glittered in the dark defeating sun. Blue sky and ice flirting with the white snow and glaciers in a gentle lover’s embrace. The air being just cool enough to keep a continuous comforter of snow falling from the sky. A world full of a child’s eyes wandering wonder.

And still further the Woman and the Little One, together, continued their pilgrimage into the core of the box.

Gradually the snow faded into a vast green jungle that had been cultivated to satiate the Little One on her returnless journey. The floor full of vines and vegetation. Trees with deep green star shaped leaves protecting the two from the cool falling rain. Closing their eyes the rain and jungle as one created a Melancholy Symphony of life.

Walking even further on into the protection of the box the child began to yawn. “Are we there yet.” The woman did not answer as they continued. A trip that felt minutes for the woman felt days for the Little One. But the woman knew this. It is how she designed the box, a place that could not be escaped nor penetrated. A place of fail safes always and ever evolving to keep the realities separate. A box or perhaps a prison that the woman created out of love, or maybe, out of fear.

Reaching the core of the box the Little One looked around in amazement at what she saw. It was the most spectacularly peaceful place she had ever set foot in. Her very own enchanted forest complete with fairies, leprechauns and unicorns. The girl spinning in a circle of magnificent life filled trees. The woman sat down on the moss next to a creek that flowed without intrusion and trickled, blessing any listening nearby ears. “Little One come over here and lay down on my lap and I will tell you a story.”

The child laid down on the forest floor with her head in the Woman’s lap. “Now my Little One, close your eyes and listened to my voice.” The Woman continued into the moment she had been dreading since she began making the box. “Keep your eyes closed and imagine you are on a beach with a warm air breeze on your shoulders. You wiggle your little toesies and feel the sand under your feet. The sun is drying your hair, and the sky is clear and blue as far as you can see. You walk slowly into the water and feel the coolness on your tiny little legs making you smile as I’m watching you from the shore. You look up above and watch the seagulls fly as they call out to one another.”

Stopping the woman could hear soft snores from the head in her lap. She looked down at the girl and she watched for what felt like years as the moss slowly grew over the Little One until she was covered from head to foot. Looking down a tear slipped from the Woman’s face and landed on the moss protected child. It hurt, but it was for the best.

The Woman stood, having known this moment had been coming since she began designing the box. Solemnly she scooped up the innocence filled moss and placed it in the river, and she watched as the Little One transformed into tiny, beautiful shards and glimmers, of laughs that never happened, of questions not asked, of years unaged. And then she was gone. Nearly microscopic pieces of the Little One to be washed away and distributed throughout the rest of the world the Women had created. A child shining on the riverbed like pyrite.

Without looking back the woman began her journey back to the physical world. The world in which the Woman would now live alone. The return trip being so much quicker without the burden of the Little One, without the hindrance of having to protect and love a child.

Reaching The Hobbit like bridge the Woman looked back one last time knowing she was never coming back as she crossed the bridge and set it aflame. The orange glow of the embers being the only thing she would eventually remember.

The woman watched as the bridge devoured what had been the only way in for one and out for the other. The vulnerability of the child forever entrapped within a labyrinth of love. And she, the Woman, forever kept away from that which whom she locked away pure. Her job to weather the shame, disgust, and hate, on the outside alone.

And just like that the Woman stepped through. No return trip and no looking back