Amee
Part I
Once upon a time, in the early hours of an autumn morning a rusty old car silently pulled up outside of the 'Chateau de Boutin'.
The engine ceased and the car door was flung open, making a sound which showed the hinges lacked the attention needed. A sleepy young girl with a freckled face and reddish hair no more then four foot high was hurried out, carrier bag in one hand and pulled by the other. She was led through the tall iron gates and up the garden path dusted with pretty golden leaves; she needn't look down as she could hear them beneath her shuffled footsteps, "Crunch. Grunch. Crunch".
Then they stopped and her hand was dropped by her side as she felt a warm kiss on her forehead, quite distinct from the coldness of the air. She rubbed her eyes and saw faintly through her sleepy vision and the bluish mist her mothers silhouette fade, before finally disappearing. The leaves were golden. Abandoned, she lay her head on the concrete steps, shut her eyes and fall into a light sleep until sunrise.
Part II
"Tweet tweet. Tweet tweet." "Madamoiselle. Madamoiselle!" It was sunrise. Opening her eyes she saw a thin woman with dark hair tied into a neat bun standing over her. She wore a plain dress with the hem line below the knee and dark red lipstick. "Madamoiselle, come inside quickly, come out of the cold air." The women brought her inside and gave her some warm milk. "I am Madame Bergaron, my forename is Ophelie. What is your name?" the women asked. "Amee." "Amee, do you have a last name?" "No." she replied." "Do you know where you are Amee?" "No" she said sadly. "This is my home, the 'Chateau de Boutin' and a home to many others; an orphanage just outside of Paris." Amee did not respond. Madame Bergaron was accustomed to stray children appearing on her doorstep, but lately many of the children had come across the borders from Austria in the time of war, however Amee was clearly French. "Amee would you like a tour of the residence?" Madame Bergaron asked as she decided it would be best not to ask too many sensitive questions at this time. Amee agreeably nodded and followed Madame Bergaron with her carrier bag still in hand, but the other empty. "Come Madamoiselle Amee, this shall be your new home." and Amee complied.
It was a large house, with plenty of light. There were four floors and a total of thirty-two rooms and six bathrooms; the largest being the front-room followed closely by the kitchen. The decor was quite outlandish. The house appeared to be fairly old with some signs of repair. Amee met some of the other residents; all children, boys and girls, except three maids who were busy doing various choirs. Some were friendly, others not so much. Madame Bergaron contently wittled on about the history of the house whilst Amee absorbed everything she said. Coming up the stairs to the third floor Amee saw a man fixing a broken window toward the end of the left wing. "Who is that?" Amee asked, showing she had some will of her own. "That is Gaston, the caretaker. He, like you, does not have a last name. He has been here all his life. A quiet man. Come Amee, I'll show you to your room." At the top of the house at the end of the corridor Amee was shown her new resting place. It was not a very large room. There was one ready made bed and a single white chest of draws. At the head of the room was a window which looked upon the back garden. A large tree blocked most of the view. As a matter of fact, upon inspection, it blocked most of the views as it stretched across the back of the whole house. Madame Bergaron left Amee to accustom herself to her new surroundings and told her the maid will be up shortly to bathe her. Amee sat on the edge of the bed, quiet and still until the maid came and broke the silence.
Part III
Several weeks had now passed, the weather had turned ice cold and the nights were longer than the days. It was eight PM; Bed Time. Amee went to her room where she waited for the maid to collect her washing. The maid came and went as usual, wished Amee goodnight and Amee tucked herself into bed ready to go to sleep. Alas, that particular night Amee could not sleep. She lay awake for hours trying to picture in her mind her mothers face, but only remembered watching her fade into the mist. She felt saddened and questioned the point in continuing to live when suddenly something startled her. In the shadows cast by the giant tree across her bedroom walls a figure appeared to jump across the branches. She immediately leapt out of bed and ran over to the window. Looking down to her right, three windows across, she saw something crawl into Bastion's (a French boy who had recently arrived at the Chateau) room. Amee hurridly put on her dressing gown, silently opened her door and crept down the hall.
Peering through a tiny hole into Bastion's room she saw a tall claoked figure standing over his bed. She could not see its face. The shadowy figure reached inside its cloak and pulled out what appeared to be a glowing seed. The glow, emanating from the seed, momentarily allowed her to see the eyeballs of the figure twinkle. Amee shuddered at the sinister sight. Continuing to watch through the peep hole with baited breath she saw the creature drop the seed into Bastion's ear. The glow slowly faded like any light consumed by a tunnel. "Eeaaakkkk!" Amee squealed, as a mouse simultaneously ran past her foot and into a crack in the wall. The cloaked figure heard the scream and immediately exited back out of the window. Madam Bergaron was awoken. Panicked, Amee quickly scrambled back to her room hearing Madame Bergaron's footsteps walk straight past her door. "Phew!" She was almost more scared that Madame Bergaron would find her out of her bed than what she had just witnessed. Luckily, It seemed, Amee had got away with it as Madame Bergaron had now returned to her room.
The seed had traveled down Bastion's ear into a river of wax which slowly carried the seed past the ghosts and goblins, through the forgotten past and across the visions of the future until it lodged itself right at the seat of the imagination. It sprouted its roots efficiently -an expert parasite- and intelligently began to consume all the goodness of the childs mind; like a vampire sucking the life blood out of its victim. That night, like many to come, Amee did not sleep. On edge, she watched the shadows cast across her bedroom wall and saw the dark figure jump from branch to branch undoubtedly planting more seeds until dawn.
Part IV
It was eight AM. Breakfast Time! Amee got dressed and dragged herself down stairs, passing Gaston on the second floor who was busy fixing a broken light. She felt exhausted and wondered what, if anything, she would say to Madame Bergaron about what she had seen. As she entered the dining area all the children were already seated around the table, muted. Amee's footsteps echoed through the silence. She pulled out the only empty chair, that was taller then she, situated directly opposite Bastion, "Screeeeeech". No one looked up as the legs of the chair dragged across the marble floor. The maids brought in breakfast and placed the bowls in front of each child in a very orderly fashion.
Madame Bergaron sat at the head of the table and prayed out-loud the traditional prayer -the Bénédicité- before eating. Some of the children copied and muttered the prayer, sounding like one long winded dull exhalation of self denial, "Amen". Amee did not join in. She picked up the large silver spoon that had been wrapped delicately in a napkin ready to eat her porridge when she noticed something odd on the surface of the spoon. Through the distorted image that was reflected Amee saw a distinct entity emerge from the brow of the child seated next to her. She stared into the spoon unblinking as the object began to erupt from the child's forehead. It appeared to be a seedling. "Herggh" Amee gasped and her eyes widened. She looked up in disbelief, but her disbelief was falsified by what she now saw.
Looking around the table seedlings spurted through the childrens heads. Plants! The stalks thickened and began to produce bark and green oval shaped leaves developed. The growths grew steadily, up to a foot long on some of the children, chaotically spiraling forward. The air no longer had that warm milky smell, but smelt of damp and pine. But that wasn't the strangest part, oh no. The strangest part was that the children seemed completely oblivious to the fact that plants now emerged from their foreheads and the regimental sipping of gloop continued undisturbed. This was too much, not even Madame Bergaron, who remained normal in comparison, batted an eyelid. The world seemed no longer sane and all she knew was now unknown. Amee threw her spoon to the floor and ran out of the dining area crying.
Madame Bergaron left her seat in a calm manner and followed Amee who had fled to her room. "Madamoiselle Amee, explain yourself at once!" She ordered and Amee obeyed. She told Madame Bergaron that she saw a creature climb the trees, enter Bastion's room, that she had been out of bed after hours and had seen the cloaked figure drop a glowing seed into Bastion's ear. Through her sobs and moans she told Madame Bergaron that she saw a creature jump from branch to branch until dawn and how scared she was that she did not sleep a wink the whole night and now plants protruded from the children;s foreheads. Madame Bergaron did not -understandably- believe Amee and thought her explanation absurd. Instead, she called the maid and told her to fetch the thermometer which concluded Amee had a fever. "Amee, you are sick! you have to get some rest. The maid will come and give you a cold bath in a little while." Madame Bergaron left Amee who sat at the edge of the bed, quiet and still. That night she did not sleep and watched out for the creature through the shadows on the walls who did return; jumping from branch to branch until dawn!
Part V
It was morning. Madame Bergaron sent the maid to check Amee's temperature. Amee knew that if her temperature was high Madame Bergaron would never believe her and attribute her bizarre claims to her fever. So, when the maid momentarily left, Amee stuck the thermometer out of the window to keep it cool. It was however a bit too cool, but the maid thought it would suffice. She got dressed and decided to go into the back garden to look for evidence of the mysterious creature, seeming that Madame Bergaron did not appear to have seen the very real plants protruding from the children's foreheads at the dining table.
Upon entering the back garden, Amee was shocked to see that not only had the plants remained rooted inside the childrens heads, but the leaves had turned golden and most of the leaves had fallen. How could Madame Bergaron be so blind? And hadn't Gaston or the maids noticed? There seemed to be no logical explanation. Were they blind or did Amee have super sight? Or was it neither? Meanwhile, the children seemed no longer like children. Most were still, glaring and immobile, either standing or sitting, but nonetheless vegetative. They did not react when approached, nor if their name was spoken. They themselves had become hollow, empty. Aesthetically, they looked pale with a tint of green and their fingers appeared elongated and resembled tree roots. They looked like they were turning into plants!
"Bastion!" Amee called, "Bastion!." There was no reply. Amee walked over to where he sat, but as she drew closer he too had become plant-like. His existence, akin to the others seemed to have decayed; like the leaves that had fallen from the trees. There was no point Amee thought in trying to draw Bastion's attention to the being that protruded from his forehead - the plant- as his identity seemed diminished. He did not even respond to his own name. One cannot possess a plant on ones forehead if one is no longer one.
Amee felt a sense of hopelessness and dread. Bastion and the other children could not be reasoned with as they had become unresponsive let alone reasonable; merely vegetative beings being acted upon. Given that you cannot reason with the unreasonable Amee had to come up with a different plan; an unreasonable plan. "Aha!" it came to her, quicker then she could blink an eye. "I've got it." Knowingly, she went indoors and endured the rest of the day plotting her next move. She would wait for nightfall until she carried it out. "Oh night, at least I can always count on you to arrive," she muttered ironically to herself.
Part VI
The loyal night had come. Madame Bergaron had retired to her room along with the rest of the Chateau' staff and all the children were fast asleep; all except one. Amee slipped out of her bed and slowly opened her door looking both ways before she left. She crept down the hall and down the stairs; pass the third floor and pass the second floor, "Tip toe, tip toe." Every now and then she would see the shadow on the walls of the cloaked creature, jumping from branch to branch, but she knew she would not encounter the creature in the corridors, for through the bedroom windows that stealthy creature worked its way around the Chateau. Amee arrived at the ground floor. The weather outside was frantic and Amee jumped every time the windows were rattled by the wind. Her heart beat loudly, but the sound of her pulse was muffled by the rain. She made her way past the front-room and into the kitchen. It was empty.
Amee tiptoed to the far side of the kitchen, opened the cutlery draw and pulled out a huge sharp knife. It glistened in the light of the moon that beamed across the floor. She concealed the knife in her dressing gown and made her way up to the first floor. As she arrived she made her way past Gaston's room to one of the childrens bedrooms, but as she passed Gaston's room she noticed the door was open and she couldn't help but peek inside. To her surprise he was not in his bed and his window was wide open, the nets flailing around in the wind. What had happened to Gaston? Had the creature taken him?
She made her way to the next room and opened the door. Amee knew at any moment the cloaked figure could enter. She must act quickly! Removing the sharp knife from inside her dressing gown Amee brandished it above her head, closed her eyes and took one swift swipe, "Wooshhhh".
'That's not right' she pondered, as nothing collided with her weapon. Opening her eyes the plant remained intact on top of the little girls forehead who lay unsuspectingly fast asleep. "Huh?" Frustrated, Amee took the plant in her hand and the knife in the other and began to hack away. But the plant remained unscathed. She couldn't believe it. Through the night Amee attempted to work her way from room to room, trying to remove this parasite, this bane, this contemptuous object, but with no success. Child after child, plant after plant she chopped haplessly away, but with no luck. Amee finally gave up. She felt unworthy. Not even strong enough to slay a plant. Without sleep, for three consecutive nights, she wanted to slumber forever. But then she noticed something as she passed the mirror on the third floor, it was her. But it was not only her. Protruding from her freckled face, in the middle of her forehead was a plant. A disgusting piece of inert mass with roots and leaves and "ergghll". Amee could not believe it. "No" She sobbed, "No. no, no no ,no! In a fit of anger that came from the depths of her soul she took the knife and hacked away at the plant relentlessly, unforgiving, attacking what appeared to be an extension of her own young pale face. At her feet she could see chunks of bark, leaves and other such plant like material fall to her feet. Dead rot, a burden on her being. Then, all went fuzzy, and black and Amee passed out, knife in hand. There, at the end of the corridor on the third floor sprawled out on the carpet one could see a small child, with red hair and a freckled face, lying next to a kitchen knife unconscious, all alone.
Part VII
It was sunrise. Amee awoke in her room at the 'Chataeu de Boutin' to the sounds of laughter. She slowly got up out of her bed and looked out of her window. Bastion and the others were playing and laughing and whats more there was no plants protruding from their brows. Amee, remembering the night before quickly went out into the hall to look into the mirror. She smiled, it was gone. It was all gone. In fact, it had looked like it had never been there to begin with. She returned to her room, smile still on her face when Madame Bergaron knocked and entered.
"Morning Madamoiselle Amee, you are looking better."
"Madame Bergaron, I can not believe it. The plants, they're gone I did it!"
“What ever are you talking about Amee?"
"I know you didn't believe me when we was at breakfast the other day, but it
doesn't matter now because they're gone!"
"Amee, you have been laying in bed for weeks. You haven't uttered a word to
anyone, let alone come down to to the dining room for breakfast!"
"But I swear!"
"Amee, you have had a stressful time. But I am glad you are now speaking. We were so worried that you had gone lame. It was probably a dream."
Amee was so confused, she was sure it was real.
"Would you like some warm milk Amee?
"Yes, yes I would like that very much".
“Good"
Madame Bergaron replied and went to fetch it for her. But as she got up one of the children had kicked a ball through Amee's bedroom window and broke the glass. Madame Bergaron cried;
“Oh no! Not now!
"That is okay Madame Begaron. Gaston can fix it."
"No! Gaston has left us. He no longer resides at the Chateau'. He
left last night and just left a note under my door. No I can't believe this."
Madame Bergaron was so upset she left Amee in her room and called one of the maids to clear up the mess and fetch the milk, forgetting to ask for it to be made warm, but Amee did not mind. Amee, reflecting on the events passed, was confused and yet she felt relieved. She had taken charge and severed the plant that had taken over her being and everyone else's and reasserted herself. She felt in charge. She walked over to the window and looked down upon the children laugh and play. She felt anew. All that was left now thought Amee was to cut down that hideous tree. And so, she made her way down to the basement in search of an axe. An axe to cut down the last bane in her life and see into the distance and into the future.
The End.
By Ellese Elliott
