The morning began. The swish of Atlas’ hood as she threw it on, the tickle of ribbons as she pulled her hair into pigtails, the unnecessary reminders from her mother that she had to make the trip quick, the doughy scent of breads invasive as she packed her basket. The basket weighed heavy with jams, breads, and stews. It was sure to get grandma through the winter as it had many times before.
With one last goodbye to her mother, Atlas’ cherub voice calling out “I love you”, she closed the door. She was nervous, it was her first errand after all. She shook herself off and started the venture.
It was a still evening, the kind so calm it becomes suffocating. Atlas tried to keep up a consistent step, “one, two, skip. One, two, skip” she repeated in her head. She had to jump over the twigs, and always landed on her left foot when stepping over a rock. It just felt right.
Atlas liked to watch the world as she walked, she watched the clouds sail through the sky and the itty-bitty bugs mingle on the ground. As she watched she saw something, a creature, as big as a bear and as fluffy as a pooch. It watched her, she watched back.
-Then it left-
The forest began to thicken, a good sign she was reaching the quarter milestone of her walk. That's where the rabbits came out to be hunted by the foxes. Atlas found the smell of the bodies left behind unpleasant, but she knew it had to be, because if the rabbits didn’t die the foxes would starve. A simple system of give and take.
Atlas was getting bored already, so she decided she needed some company. She pulled out some bread from the basket and held it up to the trees, singing as she walked.
“Birdies oh birdies, pretty little things, all puff, all fluff, please do sing.”
The birds came eventually, taking Atlas’ bread and thanking her with their presence. That was enough to replenish Atlas’ spirits.
The birds’ song was beginning to fade, but Atlas could feel she wasn’t alone. She glanced left, right, up, down, a new dance to entertain herself with. After several repetitions, she saw it again, the creature. It sat watching . . . just watching. As Atlas got closer, she could see it much better, its pin-prick eyes, its matted fur, and its unmistakably human mouth. Atlas approached, and in response, it spoke.
“Pretty girl, would you share your food with me?” Its many voices bounced through the forest. Atlas weighed the basket in their arms, she looked over the creature and pondered how it could possibly need food from her when it looked like it could slaughter anything it could possibly want to eat.
“I’m sorry sir, but this food is for my Grandma.” Atlas replied, her voice trembling. She’d be a failure if she didn’t bring her grandma the food right?
“Oh but girl, you had enough to spare for the birds, did you not? I’m simply hungry,” The creature questioned. Atlas hesitated, her stomach sunk, what a selfish brat she was to be denying the creature food. She pulled out a container of home-cooked beef stew, well-spiced and slow-cooked to perfection, and placed it in front of the creature. Its eyes followed her, its gaze stabbing her all over, before taking the container in its jaws and running off.
Atlas kept going, the sun was now dozing off. She could feel how the trees reached out for her, desperate to hug her close and never let go. It was tempting to stop, to turn back, or even to let the trees hold her through the night, but that would make Atlas a disappointment. The creature followed her, she rarely saw it, but she knew it was there. Occasionally, it would let itself be seen so it could request more food. Atlas tried to say no the first few times, but it didn’t let up, it was giving her its company so she should be grateful. The basket kept getting lighter, and with it the guilt wore heavier on her shoulders. She felt like she’d disappointed everyone. Time dragged its feet as the creature kept taking… She never said no. At least she was useful to it.
It came one final time. She offered the creature the basket, it was completely barren.
“I have nothing more for you, I'm sorry” she murmured, unable to meet its eyes. It stared back, it had gotten used to taking her food without even needing to request.
“Oh Girl, grandma will starve? You need food more than my pups," Its voices taunted her as it licked one of its front canines.
“Goodness no. If it’s for your pups I could never take it back” Atlas begged. She could already imagine it, the creature's pups starving and their blood on her hands. She was bouncing between issues, her head a ping pong ball smashing against the two walls that were “being at fault for starving her grandma” or “being at fault for starving the pups”.
“I insist. Though you’ll owe me” The creature’s voices beckoned.
“Anything! I-I'll give you anything!” she pleaded.
It tilted its head, its mouth agape and salivating.
-The world stood still.-
It took one step, then another. Its muscles pulsed, its jaw tensed. Yet another step, this one much larger, its breath heavy. Atlas felt she must offer it something, anything, in return for giving the food back.
So… she held out her arm
SNAP!
Atlas simply stared at her arm, crimson oozed from the stump, sharp bone like splintered wood sticking out from the end. She’d made a mess all over her boots, how sad. Everything below the elbow was gone, now in the gory jaws of the beast. She wouldn't be able to help with chores anymore. By the time the shock wore off the creature was gone, but she couldn’t possibly notice as her vision had gone white from the pain. A burning yet sharp pain that lived deep in her bones and threatened to tear her to shreds. She wanted to rip off her skin and escape it, the pain that all called back to the missing limb.
But . . . she had to keep going.
The creature had left a single strawberry. Atlas picked it up and placed it in her bag. She started to walk, her head threatened to fall off her shoulders from the dizziness. She left a crimson trail behind her. She was sure her entire organ system would find a way to fall out of that wound if it could, until she’d be left just a pile of skin. She made it, somehow, and collapsed against the door. The cottage was just shapes, rectangles and triangles that she knew were meant to mean something, but through all the pain, she didn’t know what. In her last moment of conscience she heard a voice, her grandma or the beast or something else entirely, speak to her.
“Oh goodness, your brother should have handled this. A strawberry? Not even an ant could survive the winter on that”
She had failed.