The Girl Who Was Born to Be Broken; Chapter 1

This is the story of the girl who was born to be broken. This is not a fate that is meted out often, and when she was born there was only one person in the entirety of the village and all the surrounding area who even remembered that such a fate existed, and she had had suspicions of what was coming. She was the wise old woman after all, and she defied the binds of time. As such she kept the living history of the people. Even still, she had never met one born to be broken. It was that rare.

So when the old woman was called for on a sunny afternoon by the midwife, her breath caught in her throat, and with a heavy heart she climbed on the wagon sent for her and headed into town. They made good time and as the wagon eased to a stop in front of the tinker’s house, the sound of carefree laughter floated out the window. Not a sound one expects to hear coming from the house of one laboring.

Upon entering, the old woman found the midwife and the expectant mother chatting over tea without a care in the world. The tinker was looking on with a worried expression, as if he was the only one in the room to truly realize the weight of the wrongness of the situation. Upon seeing the old woman, the wife asked if she’d like some tea, and the midwife made to rise offering her seat, but the old woman waved off both getting down to business.

“You’re sure it’s her time?”

The midwife blushed, remembering the reason of her visit, and answered quickly.

“Without a doubt. Her waters have flowed and you can feel the clinches of her belly growing closer together.”

“There’s just no pain!” the mother added pleased, “The pain from my first child was a horror, I like this much better. It’s no different than a rumbling when you’ve gone too long without food.”

“Does this mean that there is something wrong.” Disturbed by his wife’s almost euphoric state during what should be such a somber proceeding, the tinker had deigned to disturb the work of women.

All eyes fell to the old woman, who studied the gathering for a moment before deciding that the truth she knew was meant for the child and the child alone. She had fully intended on telling the tinker and his wife all that she knew in the hopes of softening the child’s existence even a little, but she knew know that these were not the parents who could provide such a thing, for such a fated child. Instead, she told them a half truth.

“Though I have never seen one myself, I have heard of such a birth as this. Both mother and daughter will be fine.”

“Another girl, you’re sure?” the tinker asked.

“Oh, I was hoping for a fine son,” the woman turned to her husband, “the next child shall be a boy, you’ll see.”

At that the old woman turned to leave, the interaction confirming her choice to keep the child’s fate a secret. At the door, she turned back to address them once more.

“Should any complications arise with the child, send a cart, and I will come.”

The tinker thanked the old woman, his wife and the midwife having already turned back to their tea and conversation. After mounting the cart, with the help of the driver, the old woman looked back at the house with sorrow, knowing that she would be returning again and again.