Little Girls

Sweat dripped from Lalita’s forehead, her chest barely covered, heaved as her fingers shivered on the granite floor. She never imagined this is what giving birth would be like. Blood dripped from between her legs, her infant daughter wailed beside her but she could not find it in herself to console her. How could she? What will she ever say to the little child? The clouds thundered above her, pattered on the metal sheet which was her roof. Her village was no place for little girls like her.
Princess Ashwini’s birth, for a span of seven days the village had bathed in colors and music as they danced their days away. The day she was born, a two year drought had ended. It was her steps, her little feet that had made their village bloom with prosperity. Everything about her was so beautiful; she was the beloved of the people.
The king, her father had kept her in immeasurable luxury, unmatched in this land and the next seven. When Ashwini turned eighteen, her celebration was full of grandiose. As age dictated, she fell in love. Her father was elated; their marriage was an affair unforgettable.
The dark set in, when Ashwini sat in her carriage and went to her new home, the village fell back into despair. Her fortune was gone with her. Farms dried, animals died, grains rotted away, treasury fell empty. Astrologers and saints all stated the same reason to the king “whatever you had was from her.” The king did not think he had another option. When Ashwini came back to visit, the king closed all doors. She was to never leave the kingdom again. The young girl however was too in love; she wanted to escape no matter what, so the king did something horrific.
Lalita screamed.
Ashwini was adorned like a bride, taken to the biggest farm in the village, she was worshipped as she cried and peasants tilled the land beside her. Tied in iron shackles she was buried alive as the soil above her prospered. She was their prosperity and now she would never leave.
Blood requires blood, a sacrifice like hers demands more and Ashwini did ask for more. Men of religion warned, never let Ashwini go hungry, give her the bloody sacrifices she demands. Every girl born into the village belongs to her. Year after year, little girls born were buried in the same field; catastrophe would strike even if one was spared. Lalita made a mistake, a selfish one. She hid the baby girl in a tank of grains.
She shouldn’t have, Ashwini does not like betrayal.