Mary stood staring at the golden pocket watch resting on the merchant’s wagon. The owner watched her like a hawk, he could tell that she couldn’t afford the item and feared she would steal it.
He was fortunate enough to come across it on his journey to the small village although the former owner didn’t have such luck, he was attacked by wild animals his bloodied body barley recognizable.
Mary reached out her finger traced the strange symbol on the golden pocket watch before recoiling her hand; the watch was warm to the touch.
Glancing at the merchant she quickly turned and scurried away from the wagon. Clutching the basket full of vegetables to her chest Mary hurried down the twisting tree lined path towards the home she lived in for the last seven years.
The small rundown shack, made entirely of wood and straw, was barley visible to strangers coming up the path. Mary expertly wound her way through the threes to the cracking wooden door.
“Mom I’m home,” she announced
“In the kitchen”
“Mother…”
Mary started before pausing to gather her thoughts.
“What is it dear?”
“Well it’s just that my birthday is less than a week away and at a merchant stand I saw this golden pocket watch…”
“Mary! Now you know we can’t afford such extravagance,” her mother interrupted
“I know I’m sorry”
Mary set the basket of vegetables down on the small wooden table. The dirt from the floor created a small cloud as she shuffled towards her room.
“It’s not fair,” she cried softly sitting on her wooden bed, which is actually too small for her now that she’s grown into a teenager.
“The Smiths on the farm can afford anything they want but I can’t even get a small pocket watch”
She allowed the salty tears to flow from her eyes, down her cheek, and soak her wolf-fur blanket. She remembered how things were better when her father was alive. How they could afford anything and he would dote upon her all the finest gifts but that was in the past. Things were different and it was all the fault of beloved father.
“Mary Dinner’s ready”
Her younger brother called from the other side of the door interrupting her thoughts.
“Coming” she answered quickly wiping the tears from her face.
The three of them ate in silence, which was typical ever since her father was burned at the stake for being accused of using the dark magics.
Mary turned a sliver of red pepper over in her fingers she recalled the day her father was killed. The sun was high in the sky on the warm summer day. Mary and her father had just finished cleaning vegetables from the garden when the elder and a few other men in the village arrived. Her father ordered Mary inside while he spoke with the visitors. She watched from the small window near the door. The discussion seemed heated; one of the men tightened his hand into a fist and struck her father square on the jaw. Mary’s mother ran to her husband pleading with the men. From her hiding spot she could see tears flowing down her mother’s beautiful face.
“He used dark magics”
Mary heard the elder spat at her mother as the other men grabbed her father by the arms and drug him toward the path to town.
“NO, FATHER,” Marry yelled pushing open the wooden door, running towards the men.
“Mary, Stop”
Mary’s mother grabbed her arm pulling her down to the ground with her. There she watched her father being drug away. The villagers didn’t even give him a chance to stand causing his boots to leave marks in the dirt.
She knew that her father did use the dark magics, but she never believed that he used them for evil. After he was burned at the stake the elders of the village shamed the rest of the family making it nearly impossible for them to make money. As a matter of fact, Mary’s mother is forbidden from going into the village, the people fear that she would place a curse upon the ones who were responsible for her husband’s death. Mary and her little brother are permitted in the village for shopping, since they were young when it happened and deemed “not a threat” by the elder.
Mary tossed the piece of pepper back onto her plate. Her appetite gone.
She gathered up the dishes and headed out to the stream to clean them; which was part of her nightly duties, while her brother chopped the firewood to keep the fire burning.
The cool night air sent a chill down her spine. The crickets sang their nightly song while fireflies fluttered in the distance giving color to the otherwise black woods.
“Father,” she whispered quietly kneeling at the stream knowing no one could really hear her.
“Why did things happen the way they did? Why didn’t you use your power to escape from the flames? Things have been so hard since you left us. We can barley take care of our selves and the one thing I want for my birthday we can’t afford.” A tear trickled down her cheek and landed in the water. Tiny ripples radiated in all directions then they were gone just as quickly as they started.
Once the dishes were clean, she walked back home making sure to lay them out separately so ensure the wood would dry fully.
“Good night. I’m heading off to bed.”
Mary shouted through their small house knowing that both her mother and brother would hear.
“Good night dear. Tomorrow morning can you go to the berry patch near town to pick some strawberries?”
“Of course”
Mary lay down on the hard wooden bed that her father had built for her. She fell asleep almost instantly.