Hope

Chapter 11

The Little Red Haired Girl

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11 Hope

The call of the owl awoke her and her body came back to the surroundings in the Pumphouse prison. Body was frozen to the spot and had to move, so gradually, inch by inch she outstretched her legs in front of her and arched her back. Instant cramps and muscle spasms was bodies response as all the pain returned. All the panic returned too.

“Breathe” Body said.

Body made another pivot to try and see in the moonlight another segment of the space. It stared into the darkness as the moonlight brightened by the absence of cloud. Body saw with its eyes silvery threads catching the light, blinked and looked again, yes they were still there like some sort of random road map on the rough render wall. Eyes tried to follow them but they lost their way. There were too many tangents to follow. “A bit like your thoughts at the moment Brain.”
“Get a grip, there must be a logical reason why those silvery threads are there” Brain stated.

As Brain searched for reasons, past knowledge and memories it came up with the answer.”On the inside of the tent on a camping holiday somewhere. Heart had been horrified as they were slugs up on the seams of the tent. They left a silvery thread. Heart hates them, fat and swollen and black.” Brain enjoyed reminding Body and it made it shiver at the thought.

“Why do they always climb up and not go down?” the Little Red Haired Girl asked.
“That’s a pointless question” huffed Brain.
“Why are you always so nasty?” the Little Red Haired Girl asked and started to cry. The whole situation had become overwhelming to her.

“Ignore Brain” Body told itself “leastways something manages to survive in here. So I must, even if I don’t like sharing this space with the creatures. I will survive.”

The tiny silvery threads became like tiny threads of hope. “Someone will miss me, miss my presence. Someone will find me stuck in this Pumphouse, maybe even Noswad.”

Heart stayed silent.

“Yes” said Brain “they will eventually and probably too late.”

Sniffing and wiping away her tears with the back of her sleeve, the Little Red Haired Girl and Body looked again at the silvery threads. “They look like strings of fairy lights. Perhaps the Fairies will show us the way” the child said.

Brain decided to let this comment go and stay quiet. after all, it was better than the child crying. So off the Little Red Haired Girl went, into a fantasy story which was so beautiful and joyous as only a child can. It was vivid and descriptive, and pure fun. Like watching a film as the director rather than the audience. She picked the story, the costumes, the music, the dancing, and as the plot twisted and turned there were good and bad people, heroes and villains, love and innocent romance. You knew where you stood, it was predictably safe. Good was always triumphant.

It was clear as in a child’s view, of how real life could be. Body was led to the escape from the wicked witch into a garden, clomping around in her mothers heels and wearing fairy petticoats. Celebrating with her Fairy friends and making daisy crowns. Watching the clouds form pictures for them as they sat on the grass drinking tea for her happy escape. The Little Red Haired Girl was happy and time flew by.

“Oh my goodness” said Brain “Where the hell are you going with this?”
“Does it matter?” Body said out loud. “You got anything better to do? I am enjoying the story, Its hopeful and happy.”
“And who wants a fairy tale?” said Brain,
“Its fun” said Nana and Body smiled at her soft voice and as the smell of Hyacinths and the pastry baking in the oven, filled the Pumphouse.

“Your Soul” said another voice.