I have no idea where this is going yet. would appreciate some feedback thanks. This is not a completed story yet so there is stuff missing as I have not finished yet as I said just going with the creative flow.
I am Mother Sorrow.
My true name is no more.
Those who live in the
light named me. Superstitious, afraid of a long forgotten history, they rarely
venture further than the borders of Sorrow Woods. They believe the whispering
undulating shadows threaten to engulf them with an ominous malevolence.
The warm damp earth
nurtures the ancient mysteries of life, death and rebirth in the twisted roots
of the trees which offer me solace. The shifting moods of the seasons govern
the humours of the living. By fervent prayer, I am summoned to attend their
births and deaths easing the pains of journeys into and out of this plane of
I am alone, and by turns, loved and cursed, forgiven
I am Mother Sorrow.
Once I had lived as
they do, filling my lungs with the freshest air, drinking from the sparkling
springs. I had been young and marvelled
at the warmth of the sun upon my browning face, tilting my head as my hair had
been breeze teased across my brow. I
had, with my childhood friends frolicked across the oceanic fields my voice
uniting in angelic choirs of laughter at the simple joy of being alive.
Too soon the moon
cycles of womanhood came upon me, within months the companions with whom I had
spent my carefree days evolved along with me.
Coquettish smiles, idle giggling banter and sly glances with downcast
eyes inviting a tainted promise of a secret not yet known.
I remained coldly
aloof, uninterested in such games. I had
witnessed the agony of such unions, heard my mother’s smothered refusals to
please my father. I had seen him,
rutting and grunting his way to satisfaction as she had turned from him in her
shame and pain. I had witnessed, with paralysing
fear, as she laboured to give life to yet another squalling ungrateful
She was wrenched from
me as I stood squeezing my eyes tight shut to stem the flow of hot tears, hands
pressed to my head in an attempt to close out her screams as the final
parasitic fruit of her womb clawed his way into our world through a bloody mess
onto a blood soaked cot. He joined her
without drawing a breath after his futile and murderous battle. I reluctantly took on the role of mother to
my younger brothers and sisters, quietly resenting their presence whilst
shamming sisterly concern. It was my
duty to my mother’s memory.
It was then
that Sorrow Woods began to call to me.
The forest offered me respite and solace, a
haven from the chaos of the drudgery the passing of my mother had thrust upon