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The Harp
By Bobby Kolesar
Dedicated to Kristin Calvo, who always sparked my imagination.
Many strange myths of witches are home to Salem Massachusetts. Some would drink kids souls, for eternal youth. Others would turn people into cats and toads. While many would drive a person into insanity. But there is one other.
It was back in the 1700’s, when Britain still owned the country. Salem was going through harsh times. Young girls were going insane, people were being locked up because they were thought to be a witch. Still, life went on in Salem.
When spring came, a young man moved to Salem saying he was from Boston. His name was Alfred , and he was an instrument maker. Alfred was not normal though. He was tall and handsome, with long blonde hair, flowing down his back like a waterfall. He had eyes of green, shining like emeralds. His ears were what caught everyone’s eye. They were long, with sharp tips. Most thought poorly of Alfred, even though they were always buying his instruments. See, his instruments were perfect, never a flaw. The sounds they made were like the seraphs singing in heaven. The busybodies of the town were always talking about him. “He’s strange young lad, that one is. I say there’s some’en fishy bout him. I don even tink he came from Boston,” they would say.
Well it came to be that he fell in love with a girl named Astrid . She was a beautiful girl, a little younger then he. She was well educated, both in farming and housework. There was much talk of how horrible she was. “She was raised like a boy, that’s just not normal,” the people would say.
With her father’s permission, they would get married. He approved, and they were to get married on October 31, 1754. A normally happy day was tragic. The forever-young witch Leila was in love with Alfred, and she would stop at nothing to have him. So she told Astrid, “I have a wedding gift for you my lady, but you must follow me into the woods.” Leila took Astrid into the woods, to a gorgeous brook, and turned Astrid into a harp. This harp was as perfect as Alfred’s instruments. It was made of gold, with sapphires set into its sides.
So Leila disguised herself as Astrid. She was convincing enough to all but Alfred, because he knew his bride well. He saw right through the witch, but before he could tell anyone, she killed him.
What no one knew about Alfred was that he was elf. His father, king of the Botsen elves, soon heard the news of his son’s death. He went to the harp of his son’s fiancé, and cast a spell upon it. “Once a year at noon on ol’ hallows eve, this young harp will become human again for one day. If a young man can get her to the Elven City, I will marry them, which will break the curse the witch cast upon her. Her and the man that brings her will always be Vinr Älfakyn .”
So I did just that. I took her to the Elven City, and we were to be married. The Elf king, Orophin, was to marry us. Just before he finished the ceremony, out of his mouth came a females voice saying, “Benny, Benny wake up, it’s almost noon. Come on, the trick-or-treaters are starting to arrive” It was my mother. After four years of college, she still treats me like I’m the five year old Benny. I’ve dealt with it eighteen years after it should have stopped. Even after my grandparents and every one else started calling me Benjamin or Ben, she still call me Benny All I want is some change, an adventure like the ones I’ve read about in books. I want to meet the harp girl from the myths. Ha, like she would ever marry me, tall, sandy hair Ben. Besides, why should I still believe in the harp girl? Even if, at one point she was real, whose to say a brave young man hasn’t already married her.
“Benny, get your costume on, the kids are arriving.” my mother yelled.
“I’m too old to dress up, I’m going for a walk." scream I snapped at her.
“Fine,” she said with sorrow in her voice, “ just bring your dog with you.”
“His name is Ralph,” I said, feeling bad. sweatdrop
I left, not knowing that would be the last time I would see my mother. Down the street from the house was some hiking trails, so I decided I would hike, as I headed towards them. To cheer myself up, I watched trick-or-treaters parade routinely from door to door. It’s funny to think that I once took place in this childish ritual.
When I got to the trails, nothing had changed, so there was nothing new to see. As I was deciding on a trail, I heard a cat hiss behind me. When I turned there was nothing there. Strange I thought. When I looked back at the trails, there was one I hadn’t noticed a few seconds before. “When did they make this trail?” I asked myself. With suspicion, I started down the path. About twenty yards in, Ralph stopped dead in his tracks, and started whimpering. “Come on boy, your supposed to be a brave dog.” So, tail between his legs, he came with me.
As we went farther down the trail, I noticed strange things. Hanging from the trees we gold lanterns decorated with sapphires. About a mile down the trail, I came to a small river, and the path just stopped. On the other side of the river, a new path began.
“Whoever made this path must not have thought about building a bridge, right boy.” Ralph just wagged his tail and barked.
Just as I was leaving, I heard a splash in the water. Down the river, I saw ripples in the water, where I guessed the splash came from, but then I noticed the reflection in the water. It’s true I thought it’s really true. There on the rocks was a golden harp.
It was about a minute till noon, so the curse would soon wear off. At exactly noon, all noise in the forest died.
First I noticed the sound of a magical harp, so enchanting and tranquil, it almost put me to sleep. As I was about to doze off, I saw a flashing white light. I looked over, and there, where the harp once stood was the harp girl. Her hair was a beautiful blonde, and her dress was silver like the moon.
She looked right at me, and at that moment, I knew it was destiny. I had to get to her.
I jumped into the stream, the icy waters trying to pull me down. I sawm for my life, knowing that she was waiting. I reached the other shore, and she was there waiting for me.
"Are you the one who is to rescue me?" she asked, in a voice as beuatiful as the harp.
"I will do as I can my lady," I stated as she held me in her arms,
- by lexington1993 |
- Fiction
- | Submitted on 10/13/2008 |
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- Title: The Harp
- Artist: lexington1993
- Description: a love story based on the picture by harris burdick
- Date: 10/13/2008
- Tags: harp love witch halloween
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Comments (4 Comments)
- this username is invalid - 07/28/2009
- i thought it was really good. just last year my class produced the play "The Crucible" all about the salem witch trials and everyone was obsessed with them. good job. brilliant plot.
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- gilasaurus - 03/19/2009
- Interesting. It could have a bit more included in it, though. Sorry for being vague, but I can't really put my finger on what it needs. Hope you continue it soon, asuming you plan to.
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- lexington1993 - 10/13/2008
- no, it's just a cliff hanger for now
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- Kisasuki - 10/13/2008
- interesting, but did it get cut off? (the story, not the picture)
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