Myra was a quiet little lady. She was all of five when her father passed away of ill health. Since then, almost two years now, Myra lived in her tiny little house, at the edge of a busy city, with her mum and grandmother.
Ever since she lost her father, Myra hardly talked. She kept mostly to herself and answered to her mum and granny in forced monosyllables.
Myra, have you had your milk yet?
Myra how was school today?
At school, Myra was even more of a recluse. She had no friends, and kept to herself on the corner bench. She was good at her studies so the teachers didn’t bother much about her silent moods. For the world, Myra had shut down.
Every evening though, she would complete her school work and scuttle out in a hurry. She would walk down the weedy path, right into the little spot of the woods besides their house. Her mother and granny often asked her what she went there for, but they hardly got any answer. And she would always return home in time for dinner, so no one bothered further.
Until that day. It was almost half past seven. Half an hour past Myra’s homecoming time. Granny was getting worried. Mum began pacing to and fro on the patio.
Mom, I am going to check on Myra. You better close the doors behind me.
Decidedly Mum walked off to where Myra would usually run out into, the woods. It was dark and she could barely see the path. Her heart began racing.
As she walked on, she could see a faint glow of a fire down below in the clearing.
Oh no! Who would that be? Is Myra safe?
These parts of the wood were very quiet and having someone out here, this time of the day was very unusual. Most of the people frequenting this area would be wood workers, and timber people.
As she neared the fire, her eyes welled up at the rare sight. There was her little quiet girl, laughing her heart out. And around her, sitting absolutely mesmerized were a bunch of haggard little kids. Laughing, dancing, and having fun!
As she stepped closer, Myra looked up straight at her Mum. For a second her eyes reverted to their emptiness, before finally lighting up and letting her mother inside her little secret.
She stood up, ran to her Mum and hugged her with all her might. Finally, it was time for Myra to come out. The world wasn’t so dark anymore.
Eccentric, eclectic and headstrong. I am a writer, author and editor and I write content for a reputed IT firm, for a living. When I am not doing that, I write for myself and my Facebook audience. I am also a Tarot reader, a mystic, a crystal healing enthusiast an indoor gardener and a mother of a feisty 8-year old.