57 A Moment for Candied Hawthorn (1/2)

How had she gotten here?

She did not remember, and headaches began to silently come and go as she attempted to retrieve her memory. Once she got a faint glimmer of the sun's blinding rays, her hand instinctively went to cover her eyes. At this point, her mind had already gotten muddled with memories from long ago.

Her body lying under the great protection of this giant tree, she found herself entering a fog of her own creation.

There, she watched a child of about five years climb over a tall brick wall, and onto the bustling streets of a grand city. Everyone seemed festive, holding lanterns the shape of little animals, there were some kids playing with small strings of poppers, and there were so many beautiful colors that lined the walls, all the paper was in a bright and brilliant red.

The color that brought good luck, and kept away the ferocious monster said to roam around on this day. There was a big smile on the girl's face, as she ran along the cobblestone path, smelling a series of delicious foods, there were defiantly great spring rolls, the strong scent of citrus tangerines said to bring good luck, and hawthorns, there was definitely the scent of hawthorns coated in warm honey.

Something she heard from fairy tales. They were said to taste so good, it was like the sourness wrapped in a cocoon of amber honey. The tastes were of the legends, a speck of sour fruit that accompanied the sweetness of the amber honey.

Thinking back to that tale, she feels her mouth water as she sniffs the air to find the source of where it is coming from.

When she finds this stranger of a man holding the rows of hawthorns, she. like all other little children run up, attempting to ask for some, so that they may taste the sweetness of the rare treat only eaten on this spectacular day.

The man who was a skinny fellow gives a gentle deceiving smile as he tells them to follow him to a place where there is an endless supply so that they could eat to their heart's content.

They gave their wide smiles and willingly followed him down the alleyway where the joys of the celebration could not be seen nor heard. There were no bright blinding lights or lanterns of glowing red, even the sounds of firecrackers were dying down, replaced with…

Silence.

It was as if they had gone to a place that was separated from the outside world of joyous celebration.

Before they knew it, everything was dark as night, and no strength could be mustered from those small little bodies.

They woke up in the dark, on a bed of moldy straw. A far cry of the candied hawthorn paradise that they were promised. Only a cage, made of rotting wood, and tied together by some metal wire.

You see, there was no paradise of hawthorns, only small cage, by which they were prevented from getting away.

There were sounds of crying from the children, who realized that in their lifetimes they may never be able to set their eyes upon the faces of their beloved parents again. These thoughts made them more agitated and they began to wail their lungs out. Only to be silenced by the echo of a striking whip.