The Watchwoman

     A friend of a friend told me this story. It happened in my town, in a place near a river, more than fifty years ago…

     A young woman was running through the snow. The sky had already darkened. She was tired, absolutely exhausted, and it was very cold… She had been walking all day from one side to another, going from the workshop to the kitchen and from the kitchen to the workshop. Nevertheless, the worst of that was that everyone treated her as if she was lower than other people were. She needed encouragement. Besides, she was blind… Her stick was sinking into the snow, which was becoming increasingly thicker and deep. The young girl knew exactly where she had to go. Twenty-three steps to the south after crossing the rocky path. Ten years had made her discover the world with other eyes, inside her darkness. She remembered the colors. Some of them. Such as the color of the grass. Green. Now, she only could sense its pure smell and soft weave… Finally, she arrived home, where her husband was supposed to be expecting her. She felt the snow melting under her feet. Someone had cleaned the floor and had cast salt to prevent ice. She smiled. He was somebody important in her life. Since she became blind, he had helped her with the housework. But… She noticed something strange. Her husband. He had not come to receive her. Why? She heard voices into the house. A howl broke the silence. At that time, wolves roamed the village frequently. She needed enter but she did not want to. The cold paralyzed his legs and chilled her bones but she did not want to enter. She suspected that he had abandoned her. A deep sorrow took possession of her soul. She knew that she would not survive that night. She died right there, while she heard and felt that the love for her treasonable husband wasted away gradually.

     My friend said that every night, the White Lady, also called, the Watchwoman, watches treasonable villagers of the town through the doors and windows, using in death, the heartfelt that she had lost in life. Now, she is a vindictive ghost.