Unworthy

Being deemed unworthy by those around you has its perks on occasion. As I make my way through the trees to start my daily duties, I am able to watch and think to myself. A large white blanket covers the top of the trees I pass daily along with the forest floor, making it difficult for me to walk, and a cool breeze fills the air. Feeling the crisp air on my face from the cool morning air stings a little but is always so refreshing and the perfect way to wake up each and every day. The stares from all around me though, that I can never get used to. They all watch me as I walk and without even caring about my presence they turn and whisper to one another, occasionally giggling. I have never truly understood the way they act towards me. I look just the same as the rest of them, pale skin, red hair with the slightest of waves to it, and simple blue eyes, but this incessant limp. A limp I was born with, a limp I had no way of preventing, is the reason I have been marked as different and left alone from the moment I started walking until now, 18 years.

I keep my head down as I arrive at the river ready to start my day. I sit down on my favorite rock, far enough away from the other women that I can relax while I work, no worries of being bothered, but close enough that I can get help if something happens. I grab ahold of my board and the large basket of clothes and other things and I begin washing. By the time I finish the laundry my hands are as frozen as the water and the sun is at its peak but still, I excitedly gather myself and head towards my favorite lunch spot, my grandmothers house. Grandmother has been the one and only person that has not cast me aside. The one person that believes in me, believes that I am more than just my limp, that I can actually make myself something someday. Going further into the forest I can start to see the front gate of her land. The flowers still in bloom as it is the beginning of winter. The closer I get I can see her standing on her porch as she does each day. Waiting.

By the time I reach her gate I am beyond exhausted, this damn limp. That is what comes to mind each day because each day it is just a chore to even walk. I have a cane but using such things just draws more attention than what is necessary. It is already bad enough why make it worse right? I reach her front stairs only to see her smile turn to a frown as she looks down at me. “Dottie Shepard where the HELL is your cane?!” I knew it, she’s mad. Her main concern has always been me. She is the mother I never had because my own mother left. The day I started walking she left us, embarrassed by the fact that her one and only child is a “freak”. I’m sure father would have left if not for his mother, the woman that grants me all the love in this world. My one and only solace in this godforsaken life. “Forget that cane grandmother. Using it just brings me more looks and more whispers.” I look down as if my shoes are the most interesting thing on this planet. I know the look that is on her face now is just one of pity. She tries to hide the fact that she ever shows me any sense of pity but I know. Who wouldn’t pity the freak?

The rest of lunch goes on as it normally does, simple stories about our mornings, some funny, some weird, but this is the best part of my day. Time goes by too quickly and the next thing I know I am headed back out towards town to finish my chores for the day. Bailing hay for the horses, fetching the water and brushing them down, then on to gathering wood for all of the homes in the village. By the time I finish the wood pile for the last house the sun has set and I am one of the few people still working. Being the last person done isn’t the worst thing in the world, just a little scary. Halfway home I hear the loudest, bloodcurdling scream coming from the center of the village. Next thing I know everyone is screaming and running for their homes, looking for protection. Looking for shelter.

Nobody ever called me smart, I wouldn’t say I’m dumb, but I am not always the brightest. Opposite of those around me, I run towards the commotion. That’s when I see it, a wolf. A large, dark grey, scuffled fur, wolf. Blood dripping from its mouth I look around to see what it could have gotten ahold of and to my dismay I see it. A little girl in the middle of town, leg ripped to shreds, but I can see her chest rise and fall. She’s alive. If one thing is for certain, grandma taught me of the dangers that come from living in the forest. Winters are harsh and as I am sure, this wolfs food is scarce.

I take to thinking and hoping I can do SOMETHING for this girl. Looking to the side I see a couple men waiting for the right time to try and get to the girl so what I am about to do will hopefully give them that time. “Lord, help me. Please.” Silent prayers to myself have always been my thing before I do something that is out of my normal range of abilities. But if one thing is for certain I need it right now. Grabbing the small dagger I carry with me everywhere from my pocket I step out into the open. “HEY” Yelling at the top of my lungs I do my best to grab the wolfs attention. The beast looks up and moves away from the little girl, further and further. One step at a time he stalks closer and closer to me, growling. I turn in the opposite direction of the little girl and I run. It hurts so much but, the wolf is coming for me. What beast wouldn’t? I am a weak prey, easy to catch, easy to kill.

I reach a dead end between a couple buildings and watch as the wolf gets ready. He’s going to charge any second, and at that moment I may die, but I will not die without taking this stand. I bring the dagger to my chest, pointing out facing the beast, I steady myself the best I can and I wait. Next thing I know the beast is charging at me, fast as lightning, before I can react he is on top of me. I push with all my strength and I feel a sharp pain in my bad leg. Looking down I see his claws digging in, deeper and deeper. Tears are building in my eyes I fight for my life, the life I gambled but refuse to lose. Shifting I manage to bring the dagger around and I push forward with all the weight of my body, plunging the dagger into the beast. After a few seconds the beast goes limp. I did it. Before I could even celebrate the pain in my leg is growing more and more intense and I let out a scream. Men from the village came rushing into the alleyway, first they check the beast and then they look at me. Stunned. Yes I, the freak, did the unthinkable. I defeated the beast. Everything went dark after I saw the men, I felt myself being lifted into the air and I heard voices all around me but I could not open my eyes.

Finally able to open my eyes, the world is bright so I assume it is the morning. I look around and I see my grandmother in the corner of the room asleep in a chair. I make my way over to her and give her a light shake. Her eyes shoot open and in a second I am engulfed in a hug so tight I find myself unable to breath. “Grandmother I am okay.” I barely managed to choke those words out before she finally loosened the grip. She dotes on me for a while before helping me change, handing me the damned cane, and leading me outside. We make it to the center of town where I am greeted by cheers and smiling faces. Grandmother beside me starts laughing at what I can only assume is the shocked expression on my face. I turn to look at her. “Dottie my love, you are a hero. You saved us all, just as you are.” I can feel tears building up in my eyes as we walk to the center of the people, all giving me thank you, baskets, a few flowers, but most importantly of all, they smiled at me. I no longer feel unworthy, for I AM worthy.