Just five years old when fate played its hand; Beauty, a backwoods urchin, thrived off southern folklore and homespun fairy tales. Smoke loomed around her universe, lacing the blue hills and stretching pines with shadowy mystery. The smokey wind oft danced within mandolin notes, a romantic song humming from the earth.

Beauty’s mother never spoke of the cauldron hanging from three limbs. Beauty knew nothing of the dangerous mixture her mother brewed every Sunday night.

It was a sweltering June evening when this barefoot girl chased the moon; hoping to spy it before it wrapped around the last stand of hickory. The moon hung low, an amber eye rising in the sky. Folklore said if you could catch its red reflection in the lake, its center would reflect the face of your future.

Beauty was moving fast. The dusk covered the downed limb near the boiling black pot. The last thing she would ever remember was hearing the snap of the limb, or perhaps it was her bone, and the heat, the scalding heat from the cooking caldron. Her scream split the valley as fireflies polka-dotted the sky.

Lye burned her permanently, marring her skin beyond repair, or at least repair by any doctor from those parts. From that day forward, Beauty feared her face. The mirror haunted her. Even when dreaming, her reflection remained abnormal, only showing the side that turned molten.

Beauty walked the woods every twilight.
On her eighteenth birthday she stopped at the crossroad that led to the next village. A moving shadow told her she was not alone. As she turned to flee she heard, “I’ve seen your reflection in the eye of the moon. I’ve Seen your beauty.”

Fate’s hand had turned again.

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Sidey’s theme for the weekend was beauty. She always welcomes new bloggers, you just need to link up.

OSP’s photo prompt poem is posted below if you followed the link from their site.