Her Winding Heart

Some time ago, on the eve of her thirteenth year, she awoke from the dream.

It unraveled in her unconscious the way it did every time: 

a tap at the window, the cool air, and the face that looms. 

She hummed the lullaby to herself to escape the silence.

My little friend I lull to rest,

But outside 

a face looms at the window.

Her mother sang the lullaby to her. Her mother’s mother sang it and so on. Only the song could silence the deafening stillness. Only the song could summon the gift giver.

The girl allowed the tangled sheets to caress her tightly like a cocoon as she awaited blooming into adolescence. On this eve of her thirteenth year, she would be given the gift of womanhood. 

She reminisced on the early days of being seated by the sea, observing the gleams and sheens of far-off surroundings, the black wharves and ships in the thundering tide. She mourned the long thoughts of youth, the fluttering and murmuring of sweet and distant fantasies of growing up. They now felt alive with possibility. After the floating memories and melodies rose from the caverns of her mind, she drifted off to sleep.

The lullaby legend of Bium Bium has been passed down to children for centuries.    

After she sang the lullaby there were three taps on the window glass. The creature hung, shrouded in darkness. 

The phantom unseen must remain unseen. 

Though its visage is to remain invisible, if you let it in through your window on the eve of your birthday, it will bestow upon you a surprise. The gift is a virtue such as beauty, patience, talent, honesty, humility, and maturity. When you are visited, you may blindly accept its grand gift, or you may see its face and invite its lifelong curse. 

So then,

Three taps. 

It was prompt. 

While it lurked in darkness, she welcomed it by lifting the window. She shut her eyes obediently while it crept through the passage. But this time her lashes could not conceal her curiosity, and she he saw it.

She covered her mouth with her hands in horror at the glimpse of creature’s reptilian face, fangs, and glowing, amber eyes. Its skull ruptured, announcing large horns that pierce through its burnt, maggot infested flesh. 

The creature whispered: “You have seen me. Now you must open your eyes and see me fully.” She refused. Suddenly she felt its slithering tongue travel up her neck and face. It made its way up to her eyelids and forced them open. The creature’s jaw opened wider, revealing its jagged teeth. It crawled up and over her thoughts with claws able to rip her soul. It scavenged her mind slowly, turned it upside down, and destroyed every pleasant thought in its way. 

“You will give to me instead. Give me your heart and I will replace it with a clock. I seize your ability to love, and every full moon, I will arrive at your window. You will let me in so I can wind this clock. If you do not let me in, your heart will stop and so will time.” 

Its voice mimicked the sound of vultures, hissing and cackling from every corner of the sky. Her heart began to tick, as the creature crept back through the window and disappeared into the night and onto its next visit. 

Weak, she dropped to the floor and held her chest in agony. The pain gnawed on her veins. She became entrapped in the center, the cobweb of everything - like a spider’s silken thread, she was stretched out and hung softly in the universe. 

Overtime, she developed a desire to be loved and to love, but her heart belonged to the creature. That fateful night led to a solitude she did not seek, but somehow found. Life’s fulfillment was measured in increments of hours, days, nights, and weeks. When she wasn’t having nightmares or daymares of the horrible creature, she dreamt still of womanhood, the gift she never received. 

She ate dust where plants grow. The creature killed the light, bloated out the stars, extinguished the sun… but not the moon.

Full moons filled the black nights and she welcomed her clockmaker’s return. It wound her heart clock tightly and departed until the next time. 

She craved death. She was ready to shut the creature out of her window, even if time would stop forever.

Until she received a new visitor: Love. 

Love came to her unexpectedly and opened her eyes instead of forcing them closed. 

Love brought back the daylight - sunshine, fascinating the clouds. Having eyes that bemuse the skies, its beauty was timeless, even when the sun fell.

One evening, a ghost full moon peered through clouds. She spent it with Love and new lullaby melodies filled her head, ones that no longer summoned the dark visitor. 

But still. 

Tap. Tap. Tap.

On her window. The taps did not wake her from peaceful sleep. Tick tick tick - her beating heart still kept time. 

The sun expelled the full moon from the sky, and gleamed through the window pane. The light gently heated her eyelids.

Suddenly, she gripped her chest, and remembered the broken promise, certain that time would run out at any moment. She confessed to Love that she disobeyed the creature. Time was up. 

“But do you love me?” Love asked. “Of course,” she replied.

“That legend is an ancient deception. Your heart is not a wind-up clock no more than mine. We all only have so much time, but you are still full of love and youth. The face at the window is only a dream.”

So just as Love promised, her heart keeps time. Seated by the sea, together they observe the gleams and sheens of far-off surroundings, the black wharves and ships in the thundering tide.

She still dream dreams that aren't dreams

or nightmares

but memories

Tap. Tap. Tap. 

Closed windows.

Tick. Tick. tick. 

Her heart keeps time, into nightfall, twilight, daylight, and infinite space.