|
|
 |
 |
| Sunday, 23 February 2003 |
 |
|
 |
Magazine |  |
| News Business Features Editorial
|
As if struck by a somewhat strong wind, the evil sorceress was forced back to the ground outside the cage as the sharp light of the amulet met her floating body. The young girl watched in fear and frustration at the staggering figure of the sorceress. It seemed that the sorceress was weakening, for she unconsciously dropped her child and collapsed on to the hard ground, probably unconscious. Thousands of pairs of pleased eyes were watching the pathetic scene while one mind was lighting up with memories and realisation and that mind belonged to the girl. "My mother," whispered a small voice in her brain as she pictured her dying mother, her father is second wedding was what followed next and finally, painfully, she remembered her father's death, on their voyage home, just before the shipwreck. "I am princess Tracy!" she suddenly screamed, leaping to her feet and finally remembering her name and title. "Daughter of King Alexander," she continued. "My father's dead now, do you hear?" she stared hard at a dog who stared back from outside the cage. "This country is legally mine." Yours, yours... the wind seemed to echo. "You are my people." The animals made little sounds as if approving. Princess Tracy suddenly sat down on the hard cage, realising the situation she was stuck in. Most unexpectedly her eyes began to fill with tears. Free Brushing the tears off her eyes she gazed round at what was left of her home and her people. Her people, or maybe her animals. It was up to her, to free them all. "I can't do much, being caged here myself," she muttered half to herself and half (crossly) to the animals. She felt cross, sad, confused and a whole jumble of emotions all at the same time. Again, she stood up facing the animals. Tracy curiously, searched each of their faces as if afraid that one of them might turn against her. (But then she knew that all of them were hers.) Without a word she whirled round to dig her stare of hatred into her sorceress of a stepmother. All her faithful followers followed her gaze. Tracy recalled her stepmother's words - "Give me the necklace and all will be free." Ha! Ha! She, Tracy, knew exactly what that meant. In other words what the evil woman said was, "Give me the Amulet of Life... and all souls will be free from their bodies." Anger "You are not going to fool me now," Tracy, over flowing with anger, yelled at the, now stirring body of her unconscious stepmother. "Not like you did when I was little. No way! I remember how you and..." Her voice trailed off, as she heard a baby's cry. Quick as lightening her eyes darted around at the sorceress' child. Tracy stared at the baby, who was kicking off the cloth it was wrapped in, and surprising herself, her anger began to melt away and pity replaced it. After all she was not cruel and still this was a baby who knew nothing in particular, whoever it's mother is. Her eyes softening, Tracy watched her stepsibling as it cried away even harder. She saw that, if she pushed her hand through the bars of the cage, she might just be able to reach the baby. And she did it. She could touch the baby all over. As she stroked the soft skin of the little one, its cries began to fade away and at last the baby turned its sweet little face to meet Tracy's kind eyes. With enormous pleasure Tracy discovered that her little stepsibling, had inherited the large soft, brown eyes of her father and then smudging the sight of the baby, her eyes filled with tears while the muscles of her face relaxed into a smile. Wiping off her tears she stroked the baby even more. The infant grabbing two of Tracy's fingers with both its hands, started gurgling happily. Tracy felt a sudden gush of love for the baby. Tears I am so sorry, you had to have a mother like that, little fellow," Tracy cooed in the soft voice she preserves for babies. "Your eyes remind me of our father. If only he had seen you." Tracy fought back tears and kept on stroking the poor baby. The baby understanding not a word started slapping Tracy's hand. "Get your filthy hands off my boy!" Tracy swirling around saw her stepmother in full power, standing right in front of her. By Dineli Ranamukhaarachchi (14), Visakha Vidyalaya |
|
News | Business | Features
| Editorial | Security
| Produced by Lake House |
