the story of margret windfield

this story follows Margret's life trying to find her place in a world that resents her.

The Story of Margret Winfield

Chapter 1

Somewhere in Europe in 1809, a woman from a small village with people who were rich with despair and greed, unlike the other villagers this woman saw the world as nothing but a present waiting to be ripped open to show the true gift of life. The woman was as tall as a stallion, with beautiful dark skin shining in the sun. Everywhere she walked a gush of wind followed behind her, all eyes on Margret Winfield. Amongst the others Margret was always the odd one out, she was "different" and knew.
No one knew where she came from, she didn't know herself. All that was known was that she was left at the foot of the stairs at the church in the center of the village. "I heard she had a disease that turned her skin black" a child bickered "No, I heard she turned to black magic and God darkened her skin to pay for her sins" another child scoffed "But what if she was born like that" another cried "then she was born evil". Hearing the children laugh in the background a young Margret was in the church reciting her daily prayer "Blessed fountain of life, I praise you for your living breath in me! Bless my life with growth in grace, and increase my knowledge of my Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Lengthen my patience, strengthen my soul in humility and zeal, and set my heart and mind on things above. I hunger and thirst for your righteousness. Heavenly Father, feed me with the living bread of your Word, teach me to do what pleases you, lead me by your gracious Spirit, and renew your holy image within me. I ask and hope through Jesus Christ our Lord, in whom we have received all the fullness of your grace. Amen." As Margret finishes her prayer a crack appears sliding slowly down the neck of the large statue of Jesus on the cross at the front of the church. "Margret" a woman shouts from one of the other rooms, "Margret, there you are I was looking everywhere for you" she whispers urgently. " I was just-" as Margret tries to explain the priest of the church appears at the door. The priest greeted margret with a smile as the housekeeper hand Margret a bag of her belongings, "What's this... where am I going?" Margret mutters, her voice shaky with confusion. "Don't worry, this is what the lord has planned for you" the priest smiled, his expression smooth but tinged with something unreadable.
Margret was pushed out the door but was greeted by a man with wrinkled skin with deep lines around the eyes, mouth, and forehead, thinning, grey, neatly silked back hair, well-tailored clothes paired with expensive accessories, and polished shoes. The man spoke with such manners that Margret never heard before "Is this the young lady you spoke of?" he asked, his voice smooth and steady, eyes scanning her with a calculated interest. His tone would carry a sense of expectation, his gaze lingering for a moment longer than necessary, assessing her appearance with subtle judgment.
" Yes, my lord" the priest replied desperately, his voice tinged with an unnatural eagerness, much like a salesman pleading with a reluctant customer to purchase his product to meet his own desperate needs. " she will have to due" the man scuffed as he entered the carriage. "My lord, what about my payment?" the priest pleaded, his voice strained, as though each word was a desperate attempt to secure his due, his tone laced with an underlying urgency. "Yes, yes I will send one of my men the next morning" the man replied, this voice dripping with annoyance, as though the conversation had become a tiresome interruption to his more important matters. Margret, confused as ever, as her eyes started to water "How could they sell me off" she whispered as her voice trembled with disbelief. Sitting in the carriage with the lord who had plans for her, she couldn't do anything but sit still, because in the end she was never wanted and she knew. The carriage drove away, its wheels scraping the cobblestones. The fading sound of hooves seemed to carry with it the weight of memories slipping away, leaving behind only an aching silence. It felt as though the world was slowly unraveling as if the life once held in that place was now a distant dream, swallowed by the growing void of what had been left behind. Margret has been abandon once again.