Blistering heat tears across my skin without mercy. Each contraction brings more pain than the one before. Months of preparation could do nothing for this pain. More than the physical pain, I’ll soon suffer heartbreak. This child shall not be mine. Already, it belongs to the forest. We provided naught to the village this past year, our fortune selfishly wasted. It’s tradition therefore, that we must offer our newborn to the Beast of the Branches.
Left hungry he would tear into our homes and devour us nearly whole, almost no trace left. He doesn’t ask for much in return for letting us live. Just a small meal each year to tide him over. After he has eaten we are blessed by the heavens for another year. Prayers only ever got us so far. It wasn’t until our young minister was spoken to by the lord himself that we knew what needed to be done to end our hardships. It was difficult to adhere to at first. We lost many.
We ourselves were foolish for relying on others to cover the shortcomings of our lack of prayer this past year. We’ve been privileged, our lives easy. Flourishing crops and hearty livestock were clear signs we had much to offer, and yet, we gave nothing. Now, after years of wanting, we must give up our most precious gift. Our child shall be devoured before a name has even been given. Gone in a breath of space.
“Nearly there, my love. You’re nearly done.” My husband knows nothing of my trial.
“She’s fighting it.” The decrepit midwife cares not. “There’s no time for selfishness, woman, you must let the offering out.”
“It’s my child! Speak not of what I must do! I know! I know damn you!” My wails only put strength into the spine of my pain.
“It must be done.” My husband’s sad whisper offers no comfort.
“Something is wrong!” My breath is stolen by a wave of agony.
Every muscle clenches and tears all at once, my body seeming to fall away from my child. I feel it burst free followed by an immediate numbness. It is out. Screaming and bellowing for a mother’s love, love I’m literally dying to give. How do you lose a treasure you’ve never possessed? Is this the feeling it brings?
“Quickly now, into the woods.” My head has barely rested on the pillow before my child is cut away and spirited out the door. My husband barely suppresses a sob as we watch the midwife’s retreating form swallowed by darkness. My chin quivers and my teeth clench as I hold in my own. Is this a just cost? A child for one year free of hardship. It no longer seems so.
For three nights I plead for my child’s return. Three nights I was denied. The midwife only granted me one thing. The means to name my child. A hearty girl born with health in abundance. Such a terrible waste of a strong soul. All for a village I no longer want to live in. I only want to waste away.
My slumber is ruptured by the horrendous cries of my husband. Banging and smashing cause my bones to tremble. I hear the roar of the beast. Was our price not paid? Our sacrifice not great? We gave our sweet child and still he would rend our flesh from bone? What hell?
I’m still weakened from the very birth of the child I gave. I can only offer tears and whimpers to my poor husband. Soon my turn will come and I can join my daughter in a heavenly place. The thought brings a smile to my face as silence falls in the cabin and the bedroom door creaks open. Fear subsides with the knowledge I’ll be with my family again. Peace falls as a soft voice carries to my ears.
“Hello mother.”