Emmalee’s Short Life

Spirit Girl by Drew Spence

Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Emmalee, though I remember being called Marri once. I was aged thirteen and one-quarter year at the time I left the world. I have two daughters and one son. My elder daughter was born without a single breath taken into her fragile body when I was merely ten years old. Then came my son at barely eleven and later just before my twelfth year, my youngest. I want to tell you of my tale, my life and how I came to be as I am.

I have very few memories of my family or when I was a young child. I think I remember my parents, else they be only in dream. On occasion, I hear the soft singing of a woman’s voice, her gentle yet rough hands caressing my hair, red as fire as hers. I remember sitting at a simply made table, with her, a man and a little girl. The man was thin and seemed always to be plagued with pain. He and the girl had rough, thin features to their faces and almost blond red hair. We all had very pale, spotted skin with deep green eyes. I assume this was my family once, though it is beyond me if it be true.

Sometimes I smell sweet purple, white and yellow flowers, an entire field of them. I feel myself running through them holding my hands so they tickle my palms. I feel the heat of the sun, the coolness of the breeze. I feel happy. I allow this to come to mind at each point that I can, as there was not much joy in my short life. I later came to know how I became a ward of Barron Connor.

The two years prior to being with Barron was very harsh. Extremely hot summers and brutal winters, with little rain. In response to this, the crops were very small, leaving my father with nothing to pay the Barron nor anything to feed the family. I had caught Barron Connor’s eye, so I was taken as payment for that year’s tax, just before my ninth year. The year is 1216.

When he first brought me to his keep I was amazed. I had never seen anything like it. Rich materials and tapestries that I had never known were possible. There were the finest furniture (I had not known what some were for), walls of smooth stone and floors that seemed as if the sun shone on them always as it shines off the water. It seemed forever for us, myself and a servant girl, to get to what would be my quarters. On the far wall was a giant bed with four towering posts with some kind of netting with thick, rich material over that. My room alone was larger than the sod lean-to. There was a stone fireplace, taller than I, and a portrait hanging over it of the Barron. I danced and spun, twirling around and around.

Then I heard the turns moving. In walked the Barron, with a look in his eye and on his face, which chilled me to the bone. I stopped and backed near the fireplace, folding my hands in front of me. I was told to tell anyone asking that I was his daughter and my mother had lost her life due to consumption. He asked me if I needed sustenance, I didn’t know what he meant. I asked him “What is that?” He replied, “Food you wicked little creature!” My stomach grumbled as I whispered, “no, thank you, Barron”. He pulled the cord to ring the servant girl, who promptly came running with obvious fear on her face. “Why has my ward not been, bathed, fed and changed? She has the stink of peasant and filth on her!” She replied, shaking, “The water is warming and Cook is preparing her something to eat, Barron.”  The Barron left my room and a large tub made of some kind of canvas was brought in. I was stripped down and placed into it, at which time I was thoroughly scrubbed with a brush. It felt as if my skin was being peeled off. After the scrubbing, I was dressed in what the servant girl called silk. I had never seen such a fabric before and it seemed to kiss my skin.

I was taken to the dining hall. There was a table in it, larger than I had ever seen, with fourteen chairs around it. There was another fireplace, much larger than the one in my room. Entire logs were being burned in it, rich tapestries with images of men fighting, woven with deep rich colors, suits of armor wielding very large swords and shields with some image on them with an animal I knew not though perhaps was a bull with what looked like fangs but no hooves. I later found out this was not a bull at all, but in fact, what is called a bear.

I was placed on the far side, with my left side to the entrance. My food was brought to me; the servant girl placed a cloth over my lap and directed me to which spoon to use.  After only a few bites the Barron entered and sat at the head.  He was speaking of general things and at nearly every sentence; his hand would slip higher up my leg, under my skirt.  I tried to force my knees together. The harder I did, the harder he would push them open. I felt the bruising begin from his hands pushing so hard against me. Then that look again and a menacing smile as he shoved his hand inside me. I screamed and cried out and tried to move his hand though I was unable. Another servant came running in and he boomed at him to leave and go back to his duties. I felt the blood begin to pour onto my pretty dress. He must have seen my tears flowing for he had a look of intense excitement.

He put his hand back on the table, taking the cloth from my lap and wiping my blood on it. He called me a filthy wench and called for his servantman. When he came Barron told him to strip off my dress and have it washed and to put me in the cubby behind the fireplace in his room and bring him the key. It was sweltering hot, dark, dusty and smelled of vermin. I had webs in my hair and could hear little feet pattering around me with bugs scuttling across the floor. It seemed only moments before I felt the biting of the rats and bugs crawling all over me. The rats kept trying to eat inside me from where
I was bleeding. My hands were being bitten all over and I kept screaming and crying out. It hurt ever so badly.

 At some point, I must have fainted. When I awoke, I heard the fire being stoked then the Barron telling someone to get out and heard the sound of a stick to the back. The key slid in the lock. I slid back against the far wall. “Come out here now, you little trollop!” his voice boomed and echoed. I did as he ordered. He grabbed me by my hair and pulled me the rest of the way out throwing me on the bed. As he did I lost my breath. I heard the bed groan as he did. He threw a wet cloth at me and told me to wash myself in the bowl by the wall, which I did as quickly as I could muster. I heard his footsteps coming near to me, as I had my back turned to him in my nakedness, his pants fell to the floor and he grabbed me, held me against him and forced his fingers inside me once again. I tried not to scream, the pain was too much.

He bit the crook of my neck and I felt the blood dripping. As soon as I did, I felt something hard pushing against me. Barron lifted me, forcing me down again. Something ripped through and I screamed loudly. To which he covered my mouth and took the thing out, then putting it in harder this time with a grunt in my ear. I could smell his stank and muskiness; his breath was rancid and smelling of ale as he licked the side of my face. I cried out, “Stop! Stop! Stop!” though the louder I screamed, the harder he entered me. So I bit my tongue and tried not to make a sound as the blood dripped to the floor. I could hear it drip, drip, drip, I thought with all my might only on that sound. Finally, after what seemed like hours, Barron made a large grunt. I felt it moving inside me as he squeezed the wind out of me.

After he was finished, he threw me back into the cubby and said “you are staying there until you learn not to get your infectious, filthy blood on me!”  I know not how many days I was there. Many times I heard the servant come and go, stoking the fire and cleaning up. I was so very hungry and thirsty, my tongue swollen and dry as as cotton pod The rats’ and bugs’ hunger never eased either. I felt hot, tired, sick, thirsty and hungry. My lips were cracked and bleeding, the bites had become sore and swollen with infection seeping from them; my lower parts were also throbbing, sore and torn. I just lie there, hoping someone would come save me from this horrid man and his inhuman deeds.

I awoke with light burning mine eyes, searing heat and pain from all over my body. I heard the soft whispering voices of a man and woman welcoming me and telling me to lie still, I heard a hint of tears and crying within the woman’s. After a long while, I could see. I saw glass vessels, leaches and dripping blood from cuts made into the bites all over my body. The woman was wiping me with two cool cloths, one for my bloodied, ghastly white body and one to lie upon my brow. “Shhh, hush now wee one, you have betrayed death this day and two weeks past come. Calm and rest, my dear little one.” cooed the gentlewoman. She leaned me up, urging me to take a sip of water through my parched, cracked and bleeding lips. The pain shocked me but I was so very thirsty that I drank, coughing in between sips. They were being so kind to me; I thought they would rescue me from this Barron. I thought they would…

When the doctor gave me release, the gentlewoman was let go. Everything in my quarters were burned and replaced. I had two days rest before Barron returned again. He asked if I could join him at the table for our meals. I told him “yes Barron, I am well enough”. “Get dressed and meet me in the dining hall”, he said in a gruff voice. I was washed, dressed and sent down. Same as before only this time I was not touched, till after I had fallen in deep sleep that night. Barron came into my room and took me in a most savage manner again. This happened daily, if not many times daily. I would find reprieve in my thoughts of the flowery field, though had found I could no longer remember much of my youth. The doctor had told me that I may not, that he wasn’t even at a certainty, at that point in time, to know if I would even survive, that he was surprised I remembered anything prior to that time they found me.

The weeks, months and years passed. His brutality only grew. It was as if he had to find more depraved acts for him to become excited as the years wore on. I soon learned that the more I screamed, the shorter the time that he be with me. I barely noticed anymore, I was watching a play, that is all.  Finally I had devised a plan so that he no longer touched me. I inserted a stick inside my womanly parts, holding how far it went with my finger and thumb and made mental mark of it. I then searched for some thick, yet somewhat flexible leather and some sharp shards from glass I had broken. Carefully I had embedded the shards in a downward angle all across the piece of leather and gauze over, holding them in place. I fashioned it into a tube and had sewn a round piece on the top.

One night, when Barron had his fill of ale, I placed the tube inside of me and pretended to sleep. When he came in and forced me on my knees, I turned to him and asked him if he would be gentle with me, as his wife. He stood silent, yet made no advance. I turned to him and slowly removed my gown, looked at him, with red face, took his hand and placed it upon my right breast. As he was, with his stinking breath, suckling, I removed his pants and asked, “Will you not lay with me, my dear Barron?” He climbed into my bed; I gently pushed him to his back and began to kiss his chest while removing his shirt. He continues to play with my breasts as I looked at his face and forced a sweet smile. I straddled him and heard a long deep groan escape him.

I asked him if I could tie his hands and feet, using the excuse that I had always wanted to try this with him since I had seen two of the servants doing it. He heartily agreed. I took the ties from the bed curtains and tied each limb to a post, testing to ensure they would not come loose. I asked if I could also cover his eyes and mouth. To this he also quickly agreed. I felt his hardness, the most he had ever had. Again I straddled him and ran my finger over his chest. I asked him why he was always so cruel to me, when I had never harmed him and bore him two healthy children. He had no answer but for a moan. I said “Very well, my dear Barron” and feeling the rage rise within me at the thought of all the wicked things he had done to me and may very well do to our children, I slowly lowered myself on him.

I felt such a power and strength overcome me. I was now the abuser and implementer of justice, not his victim. I was in complete control of what was to come of him.  At first he moaned in what seemed as pleasure, which ended shortly. I could feel the object forcing deeper against my most womanly parts as I pushed harder down on him, slicing him, shredding his manhood. He was trying to fight to get loose, though could not, was trying to scream, but only made muffled sounds. The servant girl came into the room to see what was the matter. I turned, placed my finger to my lips to silence her before she spoke and motioned for her to leave the room and lock the door, which she did with a smile, the first I had ever seen from her. I felt and smelled of the blood pouring in between his hips and my legs. I felt such a joy and wickedness come over me and pushed down on him as hard as I could. I pulled back up and the contraption started to come out, as well. I placed my hands down to hold it inside me while I repeatedly continued to shred him over and over again.

What seemed as if was a very short time, Barron no longer moved. I got up and had the servant girl  (who had been watching the entire ordeal through the keyhole) help me clean up. We burned everything that had any blood on it and the contraption in the fireplace and redressed him in a clean nightshirt. We replaced the bedding, but we were not sure what to do with him. He was still alive and evidently had become faint from the pain. She said that her brother, the stable boy, drove the carriage when the carriage master could not, suggesting we utilize his assistance. I agreed and she ran to fetch him while I replaced the bedding. When they returned, we tied up the Barron, took him down the back stairs to the waiting carriage.  The plan was to take him a far away distance where he was not known, leave him and cover his missing as being called away on business suddenly. We all three swore our silence.

In the morn, I had the children dressed and we packed a few things as if going on a long visit. I should have known this would draw suspicion and would have gotten us caught in this plot of ours, as the Barron never allowed us to leave the keep.  After only days, Barron was found and he returned with a vengeance. He had us hunted down and captured, the children ripped from my very arms. I saw them not in my mortal life again. I was placed in the dungeon under watchful eye. Shortly after, the servant girl was placed in an adjoining cell to mine. We were both tortured and I did not blame her for telling what she knew, as her torture was much graver than my own, which they made sure I had to watch. I had admonished her part and took the blame for myself, stating that I had ordered her to take part. This seemed not to matter to them.

A few days later I was visited. I was asked if I wished for an axe or a broadsword. I had opted for a broadsword; as I had seen many who had been beheaded by axe, take several swipes before dying. I was bathed and dressed in my finest dress. I was escorted very roughly to the platform and given my sentence. Barron would not even look in mine face. People in the crowd where throwing rotten vegetables at me. I understood not as they knew what a cruel man he was. I searched the crown for any kind face to look upon me, any compassion whatsoever, yet there were none.

 I was forced to my knees, hands tied behind my back, and head turned so that I could see the crowd. I saw the puddle of blood as well as heads in the basket and blood on the platform from the servant girl and her brother, whispering a silent apology to them. I heard the crowd shouting, saw them waving their arms and laughing, calling for my demise. The executioner moved my hair for clear view of my neck. Then I heard the sword being drawn and heard the sound of it cutting through the air, after which, my last sight through mortal eyes was seeing the inside of the basket and the cheek of the servant girl as I heard loud clapping and cheering from the crowd.

My name is Marri and this is the tale of my short life.