Anija MiÅ‚uÅ„ska 

When you give freedom to the little girl who lives inside you, the one who isn’t ashamed to ask about things which for others are obvious and clear, when she starts following her own paths, you can be certain that she’ll get where nobody invited her. More than that, she will reach places we decided do not exist anymore. And even if they do, we - emancipated, independent women with broad horizons, educated minds, free from prejudice - have nothing to do with them.

  Princess Freed From a Spell

How the Girl found an Old Bag
How she put it on her back
And what became of it.

The Girl was climbing a narrow path, so narrow that you could hardly place one foot on it. Two – would have been too many. That’s why the Girl placed her feet carefully, as only little girls can, when they are climbing a narrow path with a steep bare rock on one side and a bottomless abyss on the other. Bottomless, no doubt. Only such abysses count, the rest are scenography – so thought the Girl. So she didn’t need to stop and check the bottomlessness of that without a bottom, the bareness of the bare. She needed no proof: the place she was in was – to put it mildly – wild and empty. Why she was there – I don’t know. One thing is certain – nobody forced her to go there. Nobody. Not even herself. Nobody knew why she set off on this journey either. Not even herself. She just discovered one moment that she was climbing a path so narrow that you could hardly place one foot on it. Two – would have been too many. So on she went, not stopping, on and on, up and up because there wasn’t any other direction. Till she reached the summit, and she knew she did because she stopped climbing. She fumbled in the dense fog, or maybe they were clouds? They enveloped an old castle, or what was left of it.

-Yes, once it must have been a great castle, thought the Girl passing from one empty, damp hall to another, as damp and empty as the previous one. Not a living soul inside. Only leftovers of past grandness scattered here and there, useless.
Well, have I arrived! – the Girl was a bit discouraged. Really, it couldn’t have been much worse!
She squatted in a corner which was as far from cosy as it is only possible. Well, how could it be cosy when there wasn’t a single soft and warm thing in it, only bare walls, hard and cold. “If only there were mice frightening me with their scratching and squeaking,” she mused. “Or black crows beating the windows with their black wings, cawing to add horror to the situation.” But alas, nothing. Not even horror. Just emptiness and silence. Just the two of them.

The Girl sat in her uninviting corner and time ceased to pass – neither slowly nor fast. Maybe it generally passed over such places like this one, dead and empty? “I wouldn’t be surprised if that was the case,” she thought. After all, one can expect much more common sense from time than from little girls. Having nothing else to do she just sat there when at one moment – because it definitely was a moment – she heard a sigh, one and then another. A terribly heavy sigh it was, as if it came from a mountain. Or... from something small which was buried under a burden, huge as a mountain.

The Girl pricked up her ears: now something was crying. A barely audible cry, but it made her heart break into thousands little pieces. It was a cry of something which was lost, which nobody has or will ever look for and it knows it. That’s why it cries so quietly, because why should it cry louder?

The Girl strained her eyes: something was lying in front of her in the dark and shivered, sobbing. She stretched her hand and touched it – it was soft and wrinkled like... skin. She stroked it delicately with her small, warm hand, with tenderness – until it got warm and stopped shaking. Then she asked:
-Who are you?
-I’m an Old Bag – she heard in response. –That’s the truth. Nothing more but an Old, Discarded Bag!
There was so much bitterness in this voice that if you had any common sense you’d stop asking there and then. But the Girl didn’t have much common sense so she said:
-OK, but who discarded you?
-He did.
-Who’s “he”?
-The Prince.
-Ah, I see, he found himself a better, new bag and left you?
-You don’t see anything! Anything! – screamed the Bag. – Nobody understands me. Not a single person.

And she started weeping so loudly that it silenced the Girl. She had no idea what made the Bag so angry and she had to admit it: she understood nothing of it.
-Maybe it’d be better if you told me your story from the beginning.
-From the Beginning? – said the Bag. – I’d better start from what was before the Beginning. I was a Princess Under a Spell – she spoke hesitantly, as if remembering with difficulty. –A Bad Witch stole me from the house of Queen Mother and King Father and imprisoned me in this empty castle, with nobody to admire my beauty. For you must know that back then I was exquisitely beautiful, just as a True Princess should be. The Bad Witch, who was obviously hideously ugly, couldn’t stand it and, out of jealousy, out of base envy, put me in this remote place where my beauty was wasting away because there was nobody to admire it. And it would have wasted away completely if it wasn’t for the Brave Knight, who didn’t fear the magic spells or the seven-headed dragon which guarded the entry to the castle. He just took his sword out and chopped off all the dragon heads. They all rolled down into the abyss and the Bad Witch ran away frightened, never to come back!

-He must have been really brave! – exclaimed the Girl, impressed.
-Of course he was. The bravest of all knights who ever sat on a horse. And wise, and noble. And... well... simply... – you could see she lacked words to describe him properly. –Just the Prince... the only one in the whole world...
-I know, I know what happens next! – the Girl burst in but she just couldn’t stop herself, she was so happy. - Queen Mother and King Father came and gave you a fantabulous wedding, and you lived happily ever after.
-That’s exactly what happened – confirmed the Old Bag, clearly surprised by this keen insight. All those happy years, I had seen nobody besides him, even though we’d been visited by brave knights from all over the world. Oh, those were the times! –she sighed regretfully. What balls did we have here, what magnificent contests! And then everything went quiet because they left for a war, or another knightly expedition. Then, I always stood in the window, waving a handkerchief to let him know someone was waiting for him. And when he returned I dressed his wounds and healed him until he recovered completely.

-And then he could leave again – guessed the Girl. –Couldn’t he just stay at home?
-Of course not! – exclaimed the Princess. –Don’t you know how much evil there is in the world, evil which must be triumphed over? How many monsters to slain, how many treasures to win? If he had stayed at home, other knights would have earned all the trophies and he wouldn’t have been the bravest anymore. He would have been just an ordinary knight and he couldn’t let it happen.
-But why? Would you have stopped loving him then?
-Of course not! I loved him just as much when he won as when he lost. And maybe that was my mistake – she added after a while.
-It was a mistake to love him? – the Girl felt lost again.
-It was a mistake to wait?
-Yes, I waited. Waited and longed for him. You have no idea how skilled you can get in longing. I can long day and night, all the time, without the shortest break... Even for a second... Yes, now I can see that it was my mistake.
The Girl said nothing, though she wished to say a lot.
Or, in fact, she wanted to scream that it’s all, all terribly wrong. But something told her to keep it to herself. So she kept quiet and listened on.

-One day he announced that he felt a need to fight another dragon. After all, there are so many Princesses Under a Spell in the world who long to be free – not just me. And he feels that he could give it to them, so if I truly love him, I should understand.
-And did you?
-I tried... I really tried, so I didn’t stop him. My lips wanted to scream: “I don’t agree,” but I didn’t let them. My legs wanted to run after him but they didn’t move because I ordered them not to.
-Why didn’t you let them do what they wanted? Why were you so cruel to them?
-I had no choice. I really didn’t! A Princess cannot beg... If she demeaned herself so she’d no longer be a Princess but... but...
-An Old Bag?
They remained silent for a long time, not finding words which one might say at such a moment. The Girl wondered if it wouldn’t be better for everbody if she wasn’t so honest and clever.
-So you see for yourself, there are spells stronger than you. No matter how hard you try, you can’t help it.
The Girl knew it but it didn’t help. Not in the slightest. She was sure that one could always try a bit harder. And a bit more.
-Every child knows – she said crossly – that each bad spell, even the baddest, can be broken. You just need to find a way.

-Certainly, but for this you need a True Prince. Nobody else can break the spell, only him. The trouble is, since the dragon disappeared no Prince has ever come here. You know, sometimes I wonder if it isn’t really the dragon they are after...
The Girl was no expert on dragons or princes so she preferred to keep quiet. But tere was something in the Princess’s behaviour that irritated her: this old-fashioned helplessness and weepiness. After all why couldn’t she go and search for a Prince herself – if she needed one – instead of waiting here like that.
-Go and search for a Prince??? How can I if I don’t have legs to walk and eyes to find my way. You can’t expect too much from an Old Bag. She has no hands either to pick herself up.
-But I have hands – and to prove it the Girl picked the Bag up. She wasn’t as heavy as she looked at first sight.
-And as far as legs: if they managed to climb such a high mountain, they can also get down.
The Old Bag, or... The Princess was almost convinced. There was only one little doubt: Will a Prince-Found-to-Break-the-Spell be as effective as a Prince-You-Gracefully-Let-Free-You-From-a-Spell?
-We’ll find out when we meet him – the Girl answered cheerfully. Clearly, she didn’t want to stay in this morose place any longer.
-Do you remember which way is out?
-Of course my child. Every time turn right and you won’t get lost.
The Girl put the Bag on her back and marched on gaily. She was so happy. Finally she could walk again, and in her favourite direction! There’s nothing more depressing than staying in one place for too long. She always thought so. The first step was the most difficult but then the path just guided you on. Only a moment longer and they will be out of this awful castle. Through this door and... But behind it was another hall... And another...

How is it possible – the Girl wondered – that there are so many halls in a castle so small, on a mountain so steep? Or maybe it only looked small because the fog covered it up? Yes, it must be the fog! Just a little more patience... and we’ll be out in the fresh air... Unfortunately, even patience finally runs out, and the halls went on and on.
-I’m afraid we’re walking in the wrong direction – the Girl said finally to the Princess. -I see no other solution but to go the other way!
-But it’s impossible – protested the Princess – I remember perfectly well that one always walked following one’s right hand.
-Don’t forget that you’ve lost your hands a long time ago, so you might be mistaken – countered the Girl because by now she was really tired, and besides she didn’t like when things didn’t go according to her plan. After all, there should be some rules about it!
-You’re probably right – ventured the Princess after a while. –It is possible that the right is now on the left... I mean, where it should be.
The Girl didn’t answer, she just turned round and walked on. To tell the truth there was nothing else to do. She walked and walked and... really was there no end to this house? Every time she was sure that she was crossing the last hall and then she opened the door and, where the yard should be, there was yet another hall, just like the previous one.
-So that’s what is happening! – she shouted. – This castle is growing bigger and bigger. The more we walk, the bigger it gets! And bigger! And bigger! This way we’ll never leave. Do you hear me? Never!

But the Princess was silent. She must have lost all hope. Anyway, she probably never had it. It was the Girl who wanted to find the way out. How naive she was to think that they both wanted the same thing. Really, it’d be hard to find a sillier girl than herself. She was so exhausted she could hardly stand. She wished she could take this burden from her back for a moment, even a few seconds. Anyway, why should she go on? Nobody forced her to. Possibly nobody wanted it. OK, so she will take off the Bag and leave it here, where it belongs.
And she would have done it if it didn’t occur to her that the Bag had already been left behind! And you can’t leave behind what’s been left behind or reject what’s been rejected. Because how can you?
Maybe someone less tired and better educated would have been able to explain it from a profound, philosophical perspective. But she couldn’t. She felt it was impossible, but she couldn’t explain why. She thought and thought, but nothing would come, and her head was completely empty. And this emptiness made her head terribly heavy, so heavy that she could hardly keep it from falling to her chest, and her eyes were staring into the floor, as if they could see an answer there. Of course! The floor! Or, more precisely, what’s underneath. Funny she hadn’t thought about it before! In an old castle like this one there’s bound to be a dungeon with secret passages to flee through in case of danger. How could she have forgotten about a thing so simple and obvious? That’s the way out, through the Underground. Lower and lower, step by step... so slippery the stairs, so easy to trip in the darkness. Careful now, very careful.. don’t step on a rat’s tail or something... but no, this place is completely empty.. not a living soul around. That’s good, if there was one, it would maybe try to frighten her, but the way it was she had no reason to fear.. That’s incredible! She paused to fathom this thought: there’s really nobody here to fear! Nobody! Just emptiness and darkness. Just the two of them.

Lower and lower, step by step... Even the longest stairs must end somewhere, even in this castle... If you walk long enough, you must reach the bottom. It’s logical. Just keep walking, keep your balance... Finally! The Girl felt her feet touch a flat surface. What a relief! Now she was walking along a narrow passage which unexpectedly opened up... and she could smell something... as if wax and incense, an unfamiliar, barely perceptible smell. She reached out and her hand touched something, cold and dusty and... could it be a chest with treasure, hidden here ages ago? And behind that one another, the same shape... She examined it with her small hands very carefully. The lid was exquisitely sculpted... curves and holes... suddenly she screamed because she felt a face with her hands! A cold, dusty face of an old woman... probably a queen, because she could feel a crown on her head, still colder than the face. The Girl was so awed she dared not think. She just walked to the next chest, on which she also found a face, much younger this time, with locks of hair on both sides and the mouth shaped as if in a smile. And there was another chest, and another.. not knowing why, the Girl stopped at each one, long enough for her small hands to examine the face sculpted on the lid. For some reason her hands didn’t wish to hurry, for some reason they wanted to feel every shape, every detail. They omitted nothing, everything was vital: the shape of the nose, the forehead, the mouth, the hair, even the size of the crown on each head revealed secrets unaccessible to an eye, no matter how vigilant.
How bizarre, thought the Girl, that the hands can feel in the darkness the deepest, the best guarded secrets, which in the daylight hide so easily. Though it was beyond her understanding, she felt that she had never got to know someone so well, so closely, like those stone women lying in the underground passage. And although she had left the crypt far behind now, she still felt their closeness and knew she would never get them off her hands, those faces: sad and happy, malicious and benign, bitter and cheerful, resigned and triumphant, so different, though similarly unmoved, for ever motionless. And though she walked incessantly, something in her also stopped, something that always ran on and forward now lay silent and motionless.
Maybe that’s why she walked so slowly, or maybe it was just tiredness? She took every step with enormous effort, and there were more stairs to descend, and again, step by step... lower and lower... She no longer paid attention to where she put her feet, she no longer tried to keep her balance on dangerous turns... She no longer cared if she would fall or not, if she would get out or not. In fact, she no longer knew where she was supposed to get and why... she only had one wish left, one thought: to stop. Finally, completely stop. So, when she saw a stone wall in front of her, she was almost happy. She didn’t have to feel with her hand to check that there was no door – big or small. It was the end. A definite one.
-Is this the end? – she heard a familiar voice behind her. –Will we walk no more?
-We will definitely walk no more – the Girl answered in a voice of somebody who knows what she’s saying. She knew that they could walk on and on, for eternity, because the damned place had no end. If she took one more step, the stone wall would move a bit to make a little space. And then there would be another step, and another, and the wall would always be just in front of her, within reach. She had no doubt about it, so she could say: -No. We will walk no more. We can finally sit down. We can sit here till the end of the world. Do you hear me? Till the end of the world!
And when she said it, she began to laugh – a strange, joyless laugh. She laughed at her own words. She understood that there would be no end of the world! Because how can a world without an end end? Because of this laugh the Bag fell off her back and lay in front of her – hopelessly ugly and wrinkled, old and helpless.
-You will lie like this for ever. Do you hear me? For ever! You old, stupid Bag!
-How dare you call me that? – the Bag answered, and there was something in her voice which stopped the laugh. – How dare you call me a Bag, when you know who I really am? I won’t let you do that, you or anybody else. Do you hear me? I won’t, because I’m not a Bag! Do you really hear me? I’m not old! Or stupid! Or rejected! Or a bag! – a voice shouted, one that couldn’t be ignored, so much strength it had. Do you hear my voice? The voice of a person who knows who she isn’t and who will never, ever, try to be her again!

The Girl was speechless. And there was no place for speech. She stood there motionless, feeling that something in her begins to tremble and shake, more and more violently... Petrified, she looked round and saw that the castle walls were shaking too. Another moment and... she closed her eyes not to see when stones would start falling on her head. She stood there, and everything in her and around her – because there no longer was a distinction – trembled and shook, and broke with loud thunder. But no ... after all there was no thunder. Walls cracked and fell apart in thousands little pieces without the slightest noise. That was the most terrifying thing: no sound whatsoever, complete silence. And it continued – even when what was supposed to break - broke and what was shaking - stopped. Only under her feet, the Girl still felt trembling, vibration, as if she was standing on something... something live?
She opened her eyes and saw that it was brown and wrinkled, that it was growing ceaselessly in every direction! She lifted her eyes and understood that she was standing on earth. And she heard in complete silence mountains appearing from the earth and growing, growing until they reached the sky. And she saw that from the mountain tops streams flowed which, upon reaching the bottom, changed into huge, untamed rivers. And she felt no surprise, as if the beginning was something that happens ceaselessly, not just once. As if there was nothing besides birth: no death, no sickness, no sorrow, no pain other than the pain of giving birth, which pierced through her, vibrating, dancing, swaying her hips and arms, every single finger and toe, every cell of her small body, which was stretching in every direction letting mountains grow and valleys sink deep, where roots have their beginning, where they feed to nourish great trunks which divide into branches and twigs, leaves dancing in the wind.
And everything in her danced and vibrated, vibrated and danced, till it burst as a fountain of song, tiny drops trembling in the air for a moment, then falling to the earth, penetrating inside, back to the roots, to the place where everything begins.
Yes, it begins here, it takes from this place, handfulls after handfulls, still there is plenty, because the feeding streams flow through darkness, in every direction. Yes, the Little Girl danced in every direction, all at once, not omitting, not resisting, not neglecting anyone. And in so dancing, spinning around the Fountain, they suddenly faced each other. Both at the same time, one saw the other in the very same moment.
Praise to you, Princess! - the Girl wanted to call but something stopped her. Something was not right. Princesses – whether under a spell or regular ones – don’t wear such red, such crimson-gold gowns. A true Princess is always dressed in white or light blue, and her fair hair flows down to the ground. Well, it might be slightly shorter but it certainly shouldn’t be hazel-brown, with a thread of silver here and there. And round her eyes there aren’t so many little wrinkles. In fact, there should be none. And the eyes... they were the most suspicious. When they looked at you, they laughed and cried at the same time.
And then the Girl understood: she took the hem of her dress in her two little hands - each on one side – lowered her head and bowed beautifully, as beautifully as she only could, in front of the Queen.