Nighttime adventures – #BlogBattle

The end of kindergarten was celebrated with a big sleepover. Being all grown up, we of course did not go to bed straight away.

We embarked on an adventure. Our goal was to find a treasure chest somewhere in the forest. Even though it was the beginning of Summer, night fell quickly. And soon our walk went to being well-lit to twilight. None of us were scared, I promise! The adults accompanying us did try everything to scare us, to make the whole experience a bit spooky, we all giggled and were far from serious.

A man carrying a burning torch, that I did not recall seeing before, joined our chaperones. He whispered something that we probably all overheard about there being bears or witches within a cave not so far away.

I don’t remember if we were scared by then, but we surely huddled together a bit closer. The boys started saying that they would trap whatever lived within the cave, but they were just as worried as us girls. Something kept us from believing the story of the stranger.

Night started slowly to fall when we reached a cave, we were meant to go inside. The man with the torch led the way. And I think that we were greeted by a witch, but we didn’t take her seriously, she made too much eye contact with our educators, who did not seem to scared at all. Our experience with Saint Nikolaus being played by the neighbour with the missing finger, had taught us to be sceptical.

After leaving the cave we were surprised by another adult making the sound of a ghost.

We had seen through the adults’ plan, they set everything up so that we would be a bit scared. It didn’t work, not the cave, not the witch, not the ghost, nothing of all that worked.

Suddenly the night around us was pitch black. One of the women accompanying us took out her weak flashlight and looked at her map, “we are lost, I have no idea where we are”. Her voice was calm, but we all sensed her underlining terror. Something was up, now the real witch and not the pretend one would come out of her cave in these fairytale lands to hunt us down. This time the adults were not trying to scare us, they were trying to hide their own fears. It was a scary moment. Was it done on purpose? If it was it was the first time that evening that they had managed to pull their act together.

Rather scared we advanced slowly, trying to find our way. My worst fear was to lose the others, to lose the adults and be on my own in the woods. Maybe I could be saved by dwarfs?

A familiar voice greeted us from the dark. We had arrived at our destination, the treasure chest. Each one of us received a chocolate bar, a little bell, a tiny white stone and a piece of cinnamon. All of these treasures, except for the chocolate bar, still exist in a box somewhere at my parent’s house. Each time I open it I am greeted by a smell of cinnamon and a memory of my childhood.

The word to use for this week’s #BlogBattle was CAVE, this is the memory of an event that happened a little over 20 years.
#BlogBattle is a weekly event hosted by Rachael Ritchey, head over to her blog to read the other posts and vote for your favourites.

© Solveig Werner 2015. All rights reserved.

The invisible scar – #BlogBattle

“Why can I not reach you? Why are you closing yourself off to me?” he asked.

“I am sorry, I don’t want to be this cold towards you.” she replied with a fragile voice.

“Where has all your strength gone? I see you as such a strong …” his words trailed off, as he saw the dark clouds gathering in her eyes.

He gave her a kiss on the cheek and whispered in her ear: “when you are ready, I will be there to listen”.

She lowered her head, and nodded, relieved that he didn’t press on with his questions, questions to which she knew no answers.

He knew she was the one. He had never seen a person so beautiful. Her face was perfectly shaped, almost symmetric like a porcelain doll’s. Her body was slender and tall. He knew that looks were not everything, but he knew that she was beautiful on the inside too. Always kind to everyone, helpful and charitable.

Why was she suddenly so sad? Why did his kiss at the end of the date lead to tears? All he could hope for now was that she would want to see him again. He wasn’t sure.

She ran the comb through her black hair. A silent tear slithered down her cheek. Even though she was not smiling it seemed as if her spotless reflection was smiling back at her from the mirror.

“Mirror, mirror on the wall, why are we always in search of beauty?” she asked.

Instead of an answer, her phone lit up, on the screen it read, “hey beautiful! will u c me again??”

Even though she did not want to be defined by her obvious beauty, she texted back with a positive reply, “yeah, just don’t call me beautiful”. After all he had opened something up inside, he had started to edge closer to the answers she was yearning to find.

“yeah, just don’t call me beautiful” her answer read. She had replied quicker than he had thought. The questions that had been torturing him all night, started to answer themselves. It was her beauty that made her feel uncomfortable. But why so? Everyone was always searching for more beauty…

There she was, sitting in a blue dress on a park bench, her face hidden by a book.

“Do you mind if I join you?” he asked and was pleasantly greeted with a smile.

“Tell me, do you think that you will accept my love one day?”

“Don’t you think that you are a bit direct?”

“Maybe”, he took a deep breath before going on. “What is is that hurts you? What is it that keeps you from being happy?”

She looked at her feet, she knew what it was, but did not want to admit it.

“It isn’t your beauty, now, is it?” he went on, reaching out to catch a tear before it stained her cheek.

She took all of her courage into her hands, “it is linked to my beauty though. The thing is, you know, that people don’t see past my appearance, they only see what is on the outside.”

He nodded, “go on, I am all ears.”

“I have been ignored by friends because I am the one getting all the attention. I have been called a ‘fake’, I have been confronted with too much jealousy.” Gratefully she accepted his handkerchief to blow her nose.

“So why is it that I made you cry the other day? I have neither called you a fake, nor been jealous of your looks. I know that you are more than what you are on the outside. There is someone inside of you who is longing to be loved.”

“Exactly for that reason, you are the first person who has seen me for WHO I am and not for WHAT I appear to be. I feel like as if I have been wounded by too many hurtful words, by too many incisive looks, and too much jealousy. You see?”

“Let me help you find happiness. I want to heal those wounds”. He said and leaned in for a kiss.

“Your soul is marked by a scar, but I will do everything for it to vanish.”

This is my  almost too late entry into this weeks #blogbattle the word to use was scar
#BlogBattle is a weekly event hosted by Rachael Ritchey, head over to her blog and check out the other stories and vote for your favourites.

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© Solveig Werner 2015. All rights reserved.