Memoirs of an open mind

Part one: The fruitful village

 

It was a foggy Sunday morning in the outskirts of a little village, nothing had happened in this part of the county for eons it seemed.

Here people tended to themselves and lived their lives as they had always lived. The farmer’s son had grown up to manage the farm just as his father had done, and his father before him. There was a way of things that could not be broken, an unspoken truth that couldn’t even be whispered; A code of conduct. This code did not only apply to everyday-life, but also the simple villagers had since further back than anyone could remember kept away from the meadows on the other side of the woods in the south. No one knew why, no one spoke of it and absolutely no one dared think about it.

Stranger than that it seemed this fear of the meadows had manifested itself in every villagers mind to such an extent that rarely anyone ever pastured through the woods anymore to pick mushrooms or just go for an evening stroll.

 

It had simply become a superstitious mold growing in the heads of ignorant men, used as a weapon to scare younger generations from sneaking into the woods. The elders had a pretty good idea of what happened during the late evenings in the woods. The trees supplied enough privacy from judging eyes. The young lovers were fooled, misled by lies which on their own achieved a larger impression than any monster-real or imaginary-would have.

But now this effect had started to show its downside. Young as they were they to grow old and grow up. Youth isn’t eternal and because of this the lie used to keep the population somewhat fairly chastised had now become the common truth, and most of the elders did not survive to correct their mistake.

Now there existed a village in which no one travelled through the woods for reasons most of them did not really understand, in order to reach the meadows everyone feared… But no one knew why.

 

Celica was born during the time of false news and the common misleading of the virgin mind, she grew up to face this promiscuous era when the elders no longer were among her people, her parents being the first ones to get a good scare while their bodies still young and their hearts full of unreasonable love.

While still a child Celica came off as the wondering kind, her curiousness seemed boundless to an extent which made her parents a bit uncomfortable. A behavior they first encouraged had now become a pattern they were starting to fear.

It all started when Celica, six years of age, asked her mom: “Mum, why do you neva go to the woods?”

Her mom, being quite startled by her firstborn even asking such a hideous question answered: “Celica, you mustn’t say so! You know very well no one ever enters the woods!”

“But mum, WHY don’t we?” she asked stubbornly.

Her mother became furious at once, secretly not knowing the answer to Celica’s question herself; the fear and denial fueled her rage. For when a human finds she cannot reason anymore and is on the losing end of a serious discussion, she won’t probably hesitate for long to strengthen her voice and shout. Most cases can be solved without violence, thankfully. However far from all it seems.

Her normally pale face started blushing, she tried to sound like she had control over the situation but Celica could already tell from her mother’s eyes how she was anything but. There was a sting of true fear in her eyes. “Celica! You will never ask those questions again.”

“Muuum!” Celica demanded.

“Not to me, not to your father, not to anyone. Ever. Do you understand me girl?” her voice strained.

“Yes mum.” Celica answered in a low voice.

 

Many years went by before her courage started to become dangerous to the other villagers living in their comfortable ignorance.