Мария Хруль - She is Louise

Love or magic? Everyone has a choice, but there is only one.

The clouds had dropped very low to the Earth. A girl in a white shawl walked barefoot on the bright green grass, which tickled her feet pleasantly. In her hands she held a basket. After a moment Elizabeth stopped at a small hut that looked more like the den of some forest animal. It was tiny, and it was covered with moss on all sides.

After waiting a few seconds, Elizabeth drew in more air and knocked timidly on the door. She was afraid the bark might fall off the walls. An old woman in her seventies opened the door. She was dressed in a brown dress, over which she wore an apron covered with soil. There was a strong smell of fertilizer mixed with forest herbs and mysterious potions.

– Are you sure, Elizabeth?" asked the old woman who was the forest witch.

– Yes. Edward and I will take her away as soon as she is eighteen and has wings. She won't be able to live in a big city with modern teenagers. It won't be easy for the poor girl.

– It's your choice. I think I'll teach the girl everything I know. Some things will come in handy in the big world.

– 

Thank you, Galya.

The old woman looked at the baby's face, lying in the basket among the snow-white cotton sheets. Louise smiled cheerfully.

The kitchen smelled of freshly baked scones, but Louise hasn't woken up yet. She was barely twelve, but every night she dreamed that one day she would finally have wings and become a real butterfly. And Butterflies, as you know, can do the most incredible things: for example, even the youngest girl can turn an ordinary tree into a steppe cat.

Of course, Louise dreamed not only of magical abilities – more than anything else she wanted to see her parents and go to live in a big city, with ordinary people. Galya is very kind and caring, but a teenage girl really needs communication with her peers.

Louise opened her eyes, got out of bed and pulled back the curtains – the summer sun peeked into her bedroom. She went to the Forest School, which was attended by the children of the villagers who lived nearby. Now the long-awaited vacation was coming, which Louise was glad about. She did not like to communicate with her classmates, mainly because most of them avoided the girl, calling her strange. No one thought Galya was a witch or a fortune-teller – to be honest, she didn't know many people in the neighborhood at all. But Louise was often annoyed: her parents, of course, never appeared in the school, which caused bewilderment on the part of the few teachers, and rumors, as you know, disperse very quickly. But now it would be good to think of other things – sunshine, fragrant flowers and, of course, little butterflies.

Louise left her small room and went to the kitchen, where Galya was already spreading jam from marsh berries, which tasted very peculiar, on tortillas. Louise had long since gotten used to the unusual food – the old woman often made porridge from lingonberries and bits of earth, soup from wheat and mango, and stew from tree bark with a dash of hot pepper. The girl did not complain, for she had never tasted any other food. She had never heard of hamburgers with coke and fries being sold anywhere.

The girl went to the table and sat down on her stool. There were three in all in the kitchen. Louise often wondered who the third chair was for. "We are waiting for a stranger," Galina usually answered her pupil.

– Good morning, good soul," the old woman greeted Louise.

– Good morning, and good day to you," she replied.

– Louise! How many times have I told you! …

– What is up? " the girl didn't understand. She moved a jar of blueberry jam towards her.

– I asked you not to call me "you"! I'm your kin, I'm bringing you up. Am I not a grandmother to you, little girl? " sadly asked Galya, lowered her eyes into the plate and brushed away a tiny tear.

– No, not at all!" Louise immediately objected. She didn't want to offend her mother-nanny at all.

– When am I going to see mommy and daddy? " She asked.

– When you are eighteen, my dear, you know that. Until then, you live here.

– Well, six years is a long time. It's like an eternity.

– It's been decided for you. And let's not talk about it, " asked Galya.

– All right, Mother.

– That's it! That's another matter, " she rejoiced.

– I want to be a Butterfly.

– Everything will happen. Learn patience, child.

When you have breakfast, go to the Glade, the weather is so nice today! It'll do you good to be alone with nature.

– But it's so boring! I'd like to be friends with someone. Or fall in love.

– Louise! You're too young! And you know very well that boys can never become Butterflies.

– Fine," the girl replied simply and continued with her morning meal.

"What about my daddy? Didn't she marry my mom who was a Butterfly? Why are they allowed to be together but I'm not? It's not fair at all that I live apart from them!" out of frustration, Louise almost pushed a hole in the wooden floor with her foot.

– What's the matter with you? " Galya asked, looking at the girl's face.

– Nothing. I'm tired of being alone," she threw back.

– Go to the butterflies. Talk to them.

– I don't want to. I don't want anything. I'll go to the Glade. Alone.

– Mom, come on, stop it!" asked Niels, a sixteen-year-old boy. His family lived near the city's border with the Forests and Steppes, in a two-story cottage overlooking a small pasture where three cows and one lone sheep grazed every day. No one really knew who bred them – they probably lived on their own.

– That uniform looks good on you, though. Let me see.

– Come on, mother, I'm not a child anymore. I don't want to fight anyone. There's hardly anyone living in the Steppes, what's the point?

– You were born into a Mountain family, so don't try to run away from your destiny.

– All right, all right," Niels replied. His red and straight hair almost reached his shoulders, so the helmet was pressing a little on his head. In general, Niels was not very attractive (and he almost never socialized with girls, though he was influenced by his father, Henry Mountain, who did not recognize any modern realities), but he was smart enough to study for high grades. Now all schoolchildren are on vacation, but Niels and his companions had to take an exam at the end of summer. In half an hour classes would start, and he still hadn't gotten on the bus…

He threw off his armor and hastily put on jeans and a white shirt, threw his smartphone into his bag and slung it on his shoulder.

– See you this evening, Mom.

– Have a good day. Don't forget, you have Latin class at five today.