Why don't you take a look at this old book ? Rumors have it is is a true story from a few centuries back.
Garden walk
I could stare at flowers all day long.
I have never been far away from my home. Yet there is one thing I am sure of; wherever I go, flowers will always cross my path. Looking at them takes me back to my old days; when I wanted to know more about them. I feel like I'm back to being a kid. An odd feeling of nostalgia.
I remember using to sneak out in the family garden at night when I was little. I didn't go often, it was like my own littel secret thing . I never been caught. I knew going there was forbidden, in hindsight, Idon't think I cared for that back then either. My mama always told me that plants were dangerous. That's why she never dared to touch them herself, nor did she let me approach them. It makes me angry now, thinking about it. I'm not even sure why she insisted on having such a beautiful garden if not to use it, such a waste. I think we had someone who was in charge of it. I never saw him either.
Mother told me he was quiet.
I think he got eaten by the forest.
During one of my little night escapades I ventured past the well kept roses bushes and the carefully cut shrubs , down in the forest, further than I ever gone. I was mesmerized. The plants were thrice my height, no matter which kind it was. The trees looming over me like gigantic mountains. Somewhere in the distanceI could hear what sounded like animal noises. I wasn't sure what it was, still aren't as of today. I don't want to think about what else it could have possibly been. I was scared. But i was brave.
I don't think I am brave anymore.
If I was , I would run away from this castle.
Looking back on this night there's still something I can't explain. Something—someone that shouldn't have been there. A man. in the dead of thenight, perched up on a cliff at the edge of the forest. I was a little girl dressed all in white , in the middle of the forest behind my house. Where does vthe forest even start ? Maybe it was why I never ventured outside of the garden. I think I was noticeable from miles away. I can't properly recall the man's look. I think he was tall, his clothes all black. From behind he looked like a fiend. I wonder if he was one of those heretics. Never would a respectable gentleman wear such vesture !
I remember vivdly the fear seeing that silhouette rose in me. Even at such a young age I could tell something was wrong, his presence was an anomaly. In hindsight, I should have ran away. Yet. I couldn't take my eyes away from him. The light of the moon made him appear in front of my eyes like a mythical creature. He was ethereal. It was as if the blue hue surrounding him made him glow. He was just like me. Glowing.
How long did I stand there looking at him ? Mesmerised, that's the word. I think he sensed the little girl's presence because he looked at me. I was an anomaly in his eyes too. None of us were supposed to be here. It isn't hard to imagine he might have felt a kind of terror similar to what I felt earlier. All that I didn't think about back then, because as soon as he turned around only one thought subsisted
His face was perfect.
I had the feeling I was looking at an angel. I never saw one, never believed that there were little babies with wings on their back, that's just ridiculous. If I had to define one I'd talk about this man. What really hit me is the fact i cannot recall a single figure of his beside the fact that he was harmonious. Harmony makes perfection, and what is an angel if not the reflect of God's perfectionism.
In a way, he was terrifying. A man that looked like he marched right out of heaven. It is often said that the devil dresses himself up as a beautiful man to gain human's trust. I don't think it was the case there, though I am still wondering… I was brave. I refused to think about the very possibility of him taking me up there with him, had he not been surprised by my presence.
From behind my rock I hesitated about wether to approach him or not. I had to be careful. More like careless.
As if I was carrying something fragile in my hands I stepped out, still not sure about the decision I was making. In reality , I was the fragile one. The man didn't avert his gaze the whole time, staring without a word. His eyes were red. Scarlet red. A scary color; that was the way my kid brain interpreted it. I don't know if being near him was even allowed. Could I approach him ?
I did anyway. For the first time since I saw the man I was not scared. I was confident. I had the urge to know more about him; wanted to know how one could be this graceful.
For someone like me who has always been afraid by heights, the cliff wasn't a problem at that moment. I didn't register the hight at which we were perched, too engrossed in the moment to pay attention to anything else. Now that I think back on it, I never noticed that our domainwas perched up so high, let alone have any cliff that stiff near. Geography has never been my favourite study matter.
You look melancholic, were the very first words that came out of my mouth. He didn't grant me with an answer. But I knew he heard me. Why are you here ? I had insisted stubbornly, kidlike curiosity taking over my original fear. The more I talked the less threatened I felt, it was almost as if the man had a soothing effect on me. There were now a million questions racing through my mind. If he was there, did that mean this forest held other magnificent creatures ? I needed to know. Is this an angel forest ? Are you an angel, mister ?
The word angel ellicted the most magnificent of sounds, a laugh. Little me, high as three apples; I had managed to make the angelic man laugh. It was the most marvelous sound I heard in my entire life, even to this day. It reminded me of flowers.
I could stare at them all day. I could listen to him laugh forever.
His laughter was soft, tranquil. Only a whiff barely breaking through the dead of the night; soon to be forgotten as it got lost in nature's natural cacophony. He had held out one hand to me. Did that mean I could touch him ? I don't know. But back then I was brave. I will never forget the softness of his skin. It felt as if there wasn't anything in my hand. There was a soft tug from him before I felt myself being lifted up. He held me against him oh so gently.
And because I wasn't very tall , he put me on his knees. I couldn't believe it. I was in the arms of an angel , I was sure about it now ! I didn't even dare look up to him. He was too close for me to even attempt to move a muscle, what if I upset mister angel ? I could feel his breath on my hair; slow and controlled. What really stuck in my head though was how cool the air he expelled was, breath as cold as snow. It didn't stop here, despite his arms being wrapped arounf him I didn't feel an ounce of heat. He was cold like a corpse, maybe more so like a ghost. It is funny because I always thought angels were radiating heat, comfort, a warm blanket on an icy night.
Not him.
In a way it was soothing. His smell, the one of grapes , didn't fade in the air right away, it was clearly distinctable. Though never overwhelming or agressive. I felt strangely appeased.
You see.. his voice was sweet. I had imagined it would have been a little rough from staying silent for so long but no, none of that. He sounded like a man who never suffered thirst. Oh so sweet like caramel. But caramel didn't really suit him, it was too sticky and dirtying to describe him. Look at those mountains, he had murmurred, an emotion I couldn't name laced in his voice. I did. The land stretched out so far away I couldn't diffirenciate it from the horizion, so big my head ached. I used to live there.
So he had a home. A home that was so close to mine I felt lucky I lived so close to a man this sublime. I wonder for how long he's lived there withoug anyone knowing, surely someone of such beauty would have been well known in the area ?
Little girl, his voice startled me; he adressed me with sweetness and a hint of something I couldn't name. None of it reeked of malicious intent, I just knew it. I'm not an angel. I'm everything except that. He sounded a little more grave at that moment, like saying these words greatly pained him. I refused to believe it. I'm the worst thing you could have met here. I shaked my head fervently, expressing my disagreement. Didn't your parents teach you forests were dangerous? This time I looked in his eyes, eyebrows furrowed, disagreement written all over my face. Without warning, I gripped his clothes as strongly as I could, rumpling his clothes a little in the process. A bold move, I would probably get in trouble for damaging his expensive wear and here I was throwing a tantrum.
You're not ! I cried, the grip I had on his clothes only tightening. You're not dangerous ! You're sweet ! You're pretty ! Just like an angel, I still don't know what came up to me that day, but his words made me so mad, I refused to see the truth, that maybe he wasn't lying to me. It didn't make much sense, I couldn't comprehend why he was warning me after he's been nothing but gentle with me.
The anger only managed to make me cry even more as I clung to him. The man's clothes were probably ruined by this point but I didn't want to let go. I know he had been lying to me because he didn't made a single attempt at stopping me, holding me there for god knows how long. The most maddening part of this was the fact that he never added a single word, I didn't hear his voice ever again. I have no recollection of the end of the night. Maybe I fell aslep in his arms, I cannot tell. Because when I woke up I was back in bed. I think I will forever curse myself for that, for not staying awake longer.
For not calming down.
Oh I wish he took me with him far away. Had I stayed concious I would have never let go of him willingly. That's the true tragedy of the story, my friend, I am cursed to forever chase this angelic flower.