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The Tale of Little Baby

 This is Girl speaking. I thought of how infantilized I have felt by many throughout my life - a fragile thing who do not know what is best for her, who cannot fully grasp the world and the devils it contains. I have been treated as something deeply wounded and deeply sheltered at the same time, by people who do not know me at all, who I am a stranger to. Still, they think they know me so well. As a way to gain control, direct the course of my life. Once I realized this, I got deeply bothered by it. So, I thought of a new character, Little Baby, who is seen as this helpless little being, by the eyes of the world. A helplessness which attracts abuse, a drug for people who is striving to forever trip on power. However, Little Baby is not unfamiliar with the face of evil, and she knows it will not be ended by the hand of a  knight who enjoys the reflection of his sword a little too much. 

"Little Baby wept so dearly, the day the pearls around her neck loosened. Beaten black and blue, the ocean was all she knew. Every knight would come to visit after dawn and speak of great days awaiting her, of a shimmering light on the surface. A sword pointing at her, there to protect her from her naivety, of all the men who has impaled her with the tip of their crown. All she would have to give up, was the lilies twirled around her ankles. One stalk after the other, slit through like veins, and the remains placed on her head, as she was led out to a kingdom different from whence she came. There she would be celebrated, a youthful spirit, a remedy for the wrinkled prophets. A treasure to keep traditions would say. So, they sent her to the tower, dark even throughout daytime, and stuffed her with pastries, dried of salt, the one thing reminding her of home. Over time, the contained sweetness made her bitter over what has been lost. So, she put down her rotten tiara, and tied the lilies’ beginning and end together, to make a lifeline. Once night turned into day, was every person who had ever crossed her changed to a doll hanging so high, choking on the last bit of their soul until they were dried of it. 


And as soon as the moon rise again, will Little Baby return to a greener oceanside, tying her dearest lilies around her ankles, and wait for the next knight to come get her. "



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