The snow crunches under her bare feet, as she walks the path she walks every day. Every day she walks the same amount of distance on those feet and she never had anything to cover them up with, like shoes or even socks. Every day she walks to the same spot in the center of the city, in the hope that that day would be better than yesterday. And every day it ends with her disappointment and the hope that tomorrow will be better.
As the little girl walks she looks at the houses she passes, they all look so warm and comfortable. She loves to look inside the houses to see the way they are decorated, and there is the most beautiful decorations in the houses around this time of the year, Christmas. There is even decorations on the streets in the form of real Christmas Trees, lights everywhere, and fake and real snowmen. Around this time of the year the whole world looks less cold and cruel, and more happy and warm. Everyone is enjoying their time together by delicious dinner or giving each other presents or playing together in the snow.
But the little girl has no time and no one to do that kind of fun stuff together with. She continues walking as happy faces passes her, laughing and enjoying every moment together. The little girl stops walking as she sees a family getting reading for dinner. The house is lightened by Christmas light and the lights in the Christmas tree. The tree looks beautiful and is decorated with red and silver balls, with silver slings and a shining red peak which has the form of a shooting star. There were unwrapped presents scattered around the floor and freed from their packaging to play with. The family exists of a father, mother and two children. They were all happily sitting on the table as the mother brought the food to them. It all looked so delicious and so heartwarming.
The little girl continued walking because she has to be somewhere. She can’t feel her feet anymore because the cold has made them numb, she has already pasted the stage of feeling the stinging numb sensation, and they were just numb now. Only because she knows that, she is walking makes her aware of the fact that her feet are still attached to her legs. The little girl was wearing a woolen dress which is covered in dirt and some loss threads, it has a soft pink color even though it isn’t that much visible anymore because of the dirt. There is a sort of blanket used as a scarf to warm up her upper body. On her hands are topless gloves which are grey of color. He long black hair is hanging loss and tangled, it looks like it hasn’t been washed in years and this might also be the case.
In the right hand of the little girl is a little case, in this case lies the little girl’s most precious and only possession. Her violin. The violin she has gotten from Santa for Christmas.
She finally arrives to the spot she always goes to, every day, in the hope to collect some money. To buy herself some food and water with.
The little girl placed her little case in the snow and clapped open the locks which are keeping her violin safe in the case. The brown, wooden violin looks beaten up, like it hasn’t been cleaned in years, just like the little girl. She takes the violin out of the case, and places it on top of her shoulder to place her cheek on the mold on the violin.
And then she begins to play. Mozart is all she ever played on her violin and it is all she has ever known to play. She does this every day since she has been on the streets, since she has lost her parents.
She stays playing her violin on the same spot for hours and hours on, she plays even though she can’t feel her finger anymore, but she doesn’t need to feel herself playing because her fingers know the songs by heart.
People are walking past the playing little violin girl as they are in a hurry to get home for Christmas. No one looks over to her as she keeps on playing in the ice cold, they are all longing for their warm home and if they look at her they might feel guilty for having that. So they don’t look, they pretend she doesn’t exist, for their own clean conscience. When they get home, they will forget about the little violin girl as she continues to play in the cold, that she would have to sleep in the cold as well.
The little girl keeps on playing and to keep herself a bit warm she starts to think of happy memories, the once that give you this warming sensation though her whole body. She thinks about when her parents were still alive and how they celebrated Christmas.
They would all still around the Christmas tree on Christmas morning and unwrap all the presents Santa has brought to their home in the night. She would be playing with the toys she had gotten all day long and in the evening they would eat mom’s delicious turkey with stewed pears and tasty salads. Then when they are done they would spend the rest of the evening together in front of the television watching whatever Christmas movie was broadcasted that night. She would cuddle between her mom and dad on the couch with hot chocolate and they would warm her with their love.
Soft tears were rolling down the little violin girl’s face.
Oh Santa please, please hear my wish for this Christmas. I only wish for this and nothing else. What I really would like, is to spend Christmas with mom and dad again.
And Santa must have heard her wish. As the little girl opened her eyes, there they were standing. Her mom and dad were smiling at her with happy but also sad tears in their eyes. Her dad reaches out his hand to her and he whispered through his tears.
‘Let’s celebrate Christmas together by our Christmas tree, sweetheart.’
The little violin girl stops playing and places her hand into her dad’s and nods with her happy cold tears running down her face. And so she walked away with her mom and dad to celebrate the way she had wished every year for, up to the stars up above in the clear dark blue night sky.
The next day the little violin girl is found frozen to death with her violin in her hands and the happiest smile she has ever worn in her life.
The theme of this week’s short story is Retelling, and my story is a retelling of The Little Match Girl. I came up this idea because I love the Efteling (a Dutch amusement park), and the Fairy Tales Woods in the Efteling has an display for The Little Match Girl. It is a beautiful but sad story.
I am not as proud of this short story as I was of Downfall, but overall it turned out well. Feedback it very welcome, it will help me improve and I would love to hear your thoughts on this short story.
– Debbie –