A Heart of Stone
Chapter 1
The salty breeze coming from the sea slid through the house, moist and heavy squeezing any happiness or joy that might be felt out of the earth. I sat in my room staring out the window, watching my father make his way down the rocky cliffs towards the beached margent of the sea where he would catch the fish for our dinner. I sighed and took my hands off the side of the window pane, only then realizing how tightly they had been clamped. I straightened my dress and rubbed my hands on the fabric in an attempt to rid my skin of the clammy feeling it now had. I crossed the floor to my dresser, picking my brush up and combing out my long wild black hair. My hair had fortunately grown accustomed to the humid and moist air of the ocean and instead of frizzing, simply waved and curled. It was always tangled, none the -less, and in times of thought and insight I brushed my hair, hoping to comb out all the worries and pains that filled my head each day.
After I finished brushing my hair, I walked into the kitchen and suddenly realized my father had not brought his net with him to catch fish. My brows furrowed in confusion and I hurried to his room, ripping open his drawer only to find that indeed, he had taken the letter with him. I ran to the door and grabbed my cloak on the way, my steps heavy and swift. The brisk air hit my face as I raced down the jagged hill towards the beach where I knew my father would be. My hair wild about me and my cheeks red, I reached him. He sat there, eyes watering, staring out towards the sea, the letter in his hand. I halted dead in my tracks and the crunching noise the rough sand had been making stopped. I looked at him with worry and hesitantly approached him, not wanting him to get startled or upset like he so often did. Upon reaching him I touched his shoulder and he turned at my presence, looking into my eyes. I saw in the deep green shades of his eyes, the pain, the sorrow and the longing. It all hit me so quick I couldn’t help but gasp. He looked away then and said
“She won’t come back Elva”
I nodded and said
“I know father….” A long silence ensued in which I gathered he was attempting to come out of his sorrowful state. He did this sometimes. He would grab the letter that my mystical mother had left him and run to the ocean In hopes that she would come back. It was something I had grown accustomed to in my life. In the village that was close by our home, the people assumed he was crazy or mentally ill. But I knew he suffered from the worst disease on earth. A broken heart.
At that thought I envied him momentarily…at least he had a heart.
“Everything is going to be fine. Tomorrow is my birthday, remember? Alec promised he would come down to visit….he says that he has a gift for me.”
My father simply nodded and brushed the hair from my face to get a clearer view of my eyes.
“They are so like your mothers….everything about you reminds me of her.” I looked away ashamed, afraid that I was the reason for all his pain. He took my chin and looked at me
“You are my world Elva. Don’t you ever forget that. I will not rest until the man who took your heart is dead.”
My heart skipped a beat for I rarely thought of the man. He was so evil and his presence in my mind was so strong that thinking of him was painful. I shuddered at the slightest touch of the memory of that night. I nodded to my father, feeling enveloped in his kindness. My father was the kindest, most gentle person I knew. I may have my mother’s appearance, but underneath I knew I was the same as my father. We stood together then, the sea blowing against our clothing, urging us home for the night. He held me tight in his arms and a tear escaped his eyes. Not a single tear slid down my cheek however…I had long since forgotten how to cry. That was one of the so called perks of being heartless. No tears, just a mind craving to release something, not sure of what.
My father then quickly caught a fish as I meandered my way up the hill, sure that he would catch up with me. I pondered what Alec had said the day before. Alec was the local mail boy and he came to our house every day even though we never got mail. Alec was the closest thing to a sibling I had ever encountered. He understood me although I was incapable of loving him. He felt the pain that I could no longer feel and was like my eye sight in the dark. Alec was handsome and sweet and gregarious. He had several young girls waiting on his attention yet he always treated me special, like I was some pearl that had to be protected from the world, some lost treasure that only he had found. When I had been younger and it had been socially allowed, Alec and I would play all day long, roaming about the sea shore making huts and fairy houses and grass crowns. I grew up with him. He was the only one who knew about me….the only one who I had ever trusted to tell. The townspeople simply suspected I was too strange to appear in public and likely I was. My features weren’t like the other girls and my voice was much lower and strong. I was delicate and they were all made to work, their bodies made for child-bearing. It became quite clear to me as I grew older that I was not the same as everyone else.
But like most things in my strange, wrong horrible life, I had grown accustomed to this. But yesterday as I sat by the shore, drawing what I saw in my sketch book, Alec came up behind me. I embraced him and smiled at him. He smiled back and then sat by me. I remembered his facial expression being worried and upset.
“What’s wrong?” I asked him. He looked up at me and said
“Aw nothin’Elvy….”
Elvy was his nickname for me and I had loved it from the moment he first said it. Of course he was the only one who was allowed to call me that.
“I know that’s a lie. Come on, since when have you been afraid to tell me what’s on your mind?”
He looked down at his feet and suddenly his face was very serious. He looked at me with his green eyes and said
“I’ve been having these dreams Elvy…and they’re not good.” I could tell there was more to say but he would need some coaxing.
“Well…what has been happening in these dreams?” He looked away from me again, out towards the sea which had been rather calm that day.
“Well…they’ve been about you. In them…this…woman appears. She is old, ancient really. And she comes to your house as we are all sitting there eating dinner, me and your father and you. And the weather is horrible…just dreadful. No one would ever want to walk around in that kind of weather, but suddenly this knock comes on the door and your father gets up to answer it. It’s this old woman who isn’t even wet from the rain and she asks to come in without explanation. Your father being your father lets her in and she walks in…takes off her cloak….and walks over to you. She looks you in the eye, then touches your face. I swear it is the scariest dream I’ve ever had….”
He stopped there even though I was dieing to hear what happened next.
“The dream ends with you flinching away from her and her trying to reach for your pocket…”
My eyes widened
“My pocket? But that’s where I keep my…”
He nodded and said
“I know. I know…what do we do?”
I paused for a moment to try and consider what sort of metaphor the dream could have but found none. I started to shiver uncontrollably and put my hand in my pocket to feel the stone heart in there, strangely warm as it always was. I then looked up at him and said
“I don’t know Alec…I honestly don’t know.”
After that we tried to change the subject and speak of warmer things but it never left my mind. What on earth could an old woman want with my stone heart? If I could I would give it to her. I didn’t want it. It didn’t give me anything, only a life which was dreary and miserable. That night which was last night I stayed up tossing and turning unable to sleep. Eventually I took out my sketch book and drew what was on my mind. I drew a spinning vortex in the middle of a serene forest, filled with blood and skulls and evil eyes.
My father caught up with me and we walked silently up to the house. I would be turning 16 tomorrow, so my father had taken the pains to clean the outside of the house and replace the roof shingles that had been wearing away.
We enjoyed a simple meal together beside the warm fire and I went to sleep feeling somewhat tired, but my brain was still filled with thoughts. Sometimes, when I was feeling some strange form of sadness that only a heartless woman could feel I would imagine him. He was a man…a man I had never met, only imagined. He was tall with dark black hair and eyes light blue as ice. He wore expensive clothing and his smile was warm and inviting. In my dreams he came to me, he would sometimes simply kiss me on the forehead and bid me farewell, and other times he would kiss me passionately, his lips warm and soft next to my ice cold ones. Although I was sure I would never love in my life, somehow this man had a magical ability to take that away in my dreams. The way in which he looked at me was so real, so full of love I knew my feelings must be returned. Yet day after day I felt nothing but emptiness where my heart was meant to be. But still, imagining him gave me hope. I knew he was real, all I had to do was find him. Perhaps he knew the secret to this curse.
I fell asleep in hopes that he would come to me.
After I finished brushing my hair, I walked into the kitchen and suddenly realized my father had not brought his net with him to catch fish. My brows furrowed in confusion and I hurried to his room, ripping open his drawer only to find that indeed, he had taken the letter with him. I ran to the door and grabbed my cloak on the way, my steps heavy and swift. The brisk air hit my face as I raced down the jagged hill towards the beach where I knew my father would be. My hair wild about me and my cheeks red, I reached him. He sat there, eyes watering, staring out towards the sea, the letter in his hand. I halted dead in my tracks and the crunching noise the rough sand had been making stopped. I looked at him with worry and hesitantly approached him, not wanting him to get startled or upset like he so often did. Upon reaching him I touched his shoulder and he turned at my presence, looking into my eyes. I saw in the deep green shades of his eyes, the pain, the sorrow and the longing. It all hit me so quick I couldn’t help but gasp. He looked away then and said
“She won’t come back Elva”
I nodded and said
“I know father….” A long silence ensued in which I gathered he was attempting to come out of his sorrowful state. He did this sometimes. He would grab the letter that my mystical mother had left him and run to the ocean In hopes that she would come back. It was something I had grown accustomed to in my life. In the village that was close by our home, the people assumed he was crazy or mentally ill. But I knew he suffered from the worst disease on earth. A broken heart.
At that thought I envied him momentarily…at least he had a heart.
“Everything is going to be fine. Tomorrow is my birthday, remember? Alec promised he would come down to visit….he says that he has a gift for me.”
My father simply nodded and brushed the hair from my face to get a clearer view of my eyes.
“They are so like your mothers….everything about you reminds me of her.” I looked away ashamed, afraid that I was the reason for all his pain. He took my chin and looked at me
“You are my world Elva. Don’t you ever forget that. I will not rest until the man who took your heart is dead.”
My heart skipped a beat for I rarely thought of the man. He was so evil and his presence in my mind was so strong that thinking of him was painful. I shuddered at the slightest touch of the memory of that night. I nodded to my father, feeling enveloped in his kindness. My father was the kindest, most gentle person I knew. I may have my mother’s appearance, but underneath I knew I was the same as my father. We stood together then, the sea blowing against our clothing, urging us home for the night. He held me tight in his arms and a tear escaped his eyes. Not a single tear slid down my cheek however…I had long since forgotten how to cry. That was one of the so called perks of being heartless. No tears, just a mind craving to release something, not sure of what.
My father then quickly caught a fish as I meandered my way up the hill, sure that he would catch up with me. I pondered what Alec had said the day before. Alec was the local mail boy and he came to our house every day even though we never got mail. Alec was the closest thing to a sibling I had ever encountered. He understood me although I was incapable of loving him. He felt the pain that I could no longer feel and was like my eye sight in the dark. Alec was handsome and sweet and gregarious. He had several young girls waiting on his attention yet he always treated me special, like I was some pearl that had to be protected from the world, some lost treasure that only he had found. When I had been younger and it had been socially allowed, Alec and I would play all day long, roaming about the sea shore making huts and fairy houses and grass crowns. I grew up with him. He was the only one who knew about me….the only one who I had ever trusted to tell. The townspeople simply suspected I was too strange to appear in public and likely I was. My features weren’t like the other girls and my voice was much lower and strong. I was delicate and they were all made to work, their bodies made for child-bearing. It became quite clear to me as I grew older that I was not the same as everyone else.
But like most things in my strange, wrong horrible life, I had grown accustomed to this. But yesterday as I sat by the shore, drawing what I saw in my sketch book, Alec came up behind me. I embraced him and smiled at him. He smiled back and then sat by me. I remembered his facial expression being worried and upset.
“What’s wrong?” I asked him. He looked up at me and said
“Aw nothin’Elvy….”
Elvy was his nickname for me and I had loved it from the moment he first said it. Of course he was the only one who was allowed to call me that.
“I know that’s a lie. Come on, since when have you been afraid to tell me what’s on your mind?”
He looked down at his feet and suddenly his face was very serious. He looked at me with his green eyes and said
“I’ve been having these dreams Elvy…and they’re not good.” I could tell there was more to say but he would need some coaxing.
“Well…what has been happening in these dreams?” He looked away from me again, out towards the sea which had been rather calm that day.
“Well…they’ve been about you. In them…this…woman appears. She is old, ancient really. And she comes to your house as we are all sitting there eating dinner, me and your father and you. And the weather is horrible…just dreadful. No one would ever want to walk around in that kind of weather, but suddenly this knock comes on the door and your father gets up to answer it. It’s this old woman who isn’t even wet from the rain and she asks to come in without explanation. Your father being your father lets her in and she walks in…takes off her cloak….and walks over to you. She looks you in the eye, then touches your face. I swear it is the scariest dream I’ve ever had….”
He stopped there even though I was dieing to hear what happened next.
“The dream ends with you flinching away from her and her trying to reach for your pocket…”
My eyes widened
“My pocket? But that’s where I keep my…”
He nodded and said
“I know. I know…what do we do?”
I paused for a moment to try and consider what sort of metaphor the dream could have but found none. I started to shiver uncontrollably and put my hand in my pocket to feel the stone heart in there, strangely warm as it always was. I then looked up at him and said
“I don’t know Alec…I honestly don’t know.”
After that we tried to change the subject and speak of warmer things but it never left my mind. What on earth could an old woman want with my stone heart? If I could I would give it to her. I didn’t want it. It didn’t give me anything, only a life which was dreary and miserable. That night which was last night I stayed up tossing and turning unable to sleep. Eventually I took out my sketch book and drew what was on my mind. I drew a spinning vortex in the middle of a serene forest, filled with blood and skulls and evil eyes.
My father caught up with me and we walked silently up to the house. I would be turning 16 tomorrow, so my father had taken the pains to clean the outside of the house and replace the roof shingles that had been wearing away.
We enjoyed a simple meal together beside the warm fire and I went to sleep feeling somewhat tired, but my brain was still filled with thoughts. Sometimes, when I was feeling some strange form of sadness that only a heartless woman could feel I would imagine him. He was a man…a man I had never met, only imagined. He was tall with dark black hair and eyes light blue as ice. He wore expensive clothing and his smile was warm and inviting. In my dreams he came to me, he would sometimes simply kiss me on the forehead and bid me farewell, and other times he would kiss me passionately, his lips warm and soft next to my ice cold ones. Although I was sure I would never love in my life, somehow this man had a magical ability to take that away in my dreams. The way in which he looked at me was so real, so full of love I knew my feelings must be returned. Yet day after day I felt nothing but emptiness where my heart was meant to be. But still, imagining him gave me hope. I knew he was real, all I had to do was find him. Perhaps he knew the secret to this curse.
I fell asleep in hopes that he would come to me.