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Slowly pushing open the huge and solid wooden door leading to the walled garden, the sound of gravel being crushed by its great weight, the nervousness of her breath as her feet slid back on the wet soil, the little girl eagerly anticipated the adventure ahead of her. As the door gave way and fell wide open, the sudden rush of sunlight sent her twisting to avert her gaze from the brilliance. Closed tight she dared not open her eyes, but she could wait no longer and with childish exuberance flung herself forward onto the lawn that spread out before her. Now, wide eyed, she looked at the sights before her, the sun shone off the flowers and radiated their beauty. She turned and danced and sang, full of excitement, a blur of colour and sweet smells surrounded her, she had never been so happy.

Suddenly she stopped in her tracks, there before her stood a giant silhouetted figure, its dark shadow stretching out, draped over her like a blanket of night. She looked up tentatively, and smiled the smile of innocence.

Without warning, a massive blow sent her down on her knees, the grass beneath her faded out of focus, she could no longer smell the sweet scent of the flowers only the acrid smell of her own fear. Collapsing, she curled up as the shadow of the Gardener moved over her, a dark figure, so very familiar yet so unrecognisable. The child wept silently as one blow followed another, until everything around her faded away and darkness threw its cloak around her.

Slowly, time passed! Gradually she began to gain consciousness. She lay silent, listening for the gardener. She could sense him all around her but could hear nothing. Just a fraction at a time she opened her eyes; the light was dull but still hurt her, something was terribly wrong. The lawn had been covered by a blanket of stinging plants and thorns, a blanket that had completely enveloped her. She could feel the constant agony of their stings. Checking herself for injury she gently felt around her body, she could not believe what her hands had discovered, her legs were different, her hair was long, her body had changed shape, this was not her body, she was only a little girl. Shock overtaking fear, she sat bolt upright, her legs before her, the legs of a woman. Scrunching up her face she tried to remember what had happened, once she鈥檇 been a happy little girl, now she was a little girl living in the body of a ripped and torn woman.

Anger gripped her as she grabbed a handful of the stinging plants. Pulling them from the ground she threw them in a pile beside her and wept. Her hand was in agony, she turned it over and watched in horror as a droplet of blood fell silently to the small patch of uncovered earth below. Splashing into a thousand droplets, her blood showered a tiny rain upon the barren soil and there began to grow a single blade of grass. She stared. The blade grew. She realised! Fear left and determination strode in, she stood up.

The arms of a woman flailed madly about her, ripping and twisting. She dug with her nails and her heals, until she collapsed with exhaustion.

It was the warmth that woke her, as the sun shone on her face. She rolled over and stretched, feeling the cushion of soft green lawn beneath her. Here face felt the tickle of the grass and she breathed its sweet fragrance. Rolling gently over she propped herself up on her elbows and surveyed the high wall of poison that surrounded her tiny lawn. She remembered the pain of yesterday, the rage, the determination and as her eyes fell to the young grass, she realised what she should do.

Time passed, she sweated, she bled and she toiled. With each day the lawn grew and as each pile of the molestation died and rotted away, she could feel the influence of the gardener diminish. Some days she cleared large areas, on others the pain of aching muscles and bleeding limbs was too much for her to bear and she accomplished little. On those days, the days when depression took over, the evil sowed its seeds. Between the lush green shoots climbed the twisted thorny seedlings, all she could do was despair. She was caught, caught in a circle of never ending pain, the more weeds she cleared, the more grass grew and the bigger the area she had to defend. She could not keep up, as one place was cleared another was slowly, relentlessly infested.

Why bother? She thought and sat back to let the demons devour their prize. That was it, she would accept her position as the prey, and let the Gardener have his quarry. If she was stung enough the poison would surely kill her and then she would be released.

Preoccupied with her thoughts, she had not noticed the deep low scrape as the door to the garden was eased open, or the sigh of a young man as he looked in sadness at the desolation before him. He could not comprehend how a gardener had failed so appallingly in their duties to nurture and protect the garden and everything within it. Shaking his head is dismay he pulled on his heavy coat and pushed his way through the stinging ripping forest towards the sadly diminished clearing in the middle.

He stopped. He had frightened her, he had not meant to, he did not know she was there. He stared. She cowered. He blinked and shook his head once to recover his thoughts. Tentatively he raised his hands, palms outstretched and spoke gently to her. She could not look at him, she could not hear his words. She felt dirty and unkempt, her skin was covered in scabs and blisters, she did not know if he was a demon sent by the Gardener to trick her. She was so afraid.

With a tear in his eye, the young man stepped forward, taking a handkerchief from his pocket he reached her. Calming words emanated from him and she felt the soft touch of the cloth as he wiped the dirt away from her eyes. She looked at him and saw in his face concern for her, not a dark malice, not disgust at her condition, but genuine sympathy and desire to help. She let him stay.

Together they cleared the centre of the garden and when she grew tired, he tended her and quietly removed the seedlings of evil. He knew that this was her garden and that he could not remove the forest of pain that surrounded them, but he could give her strength and help to heal her wounds. Day after day he patiently dressed the fresh wounds from her toils, held her when it became too much and praised her for her progress.

A long time passed, the borders of the flower beds were reached, the lawn was flat and succulent and free from weeds. The time had come to plant new flowers. In amongst the chaff they had discovered the dried and tattered remains of many flowers, they had separated the seeds and put them aside. Now was the time to plant those seeds, this was their first spring together. With joy in their hearts they planted many seeds and watched as the seedlings grew. They sat together as the flowers bloomed and filled the garden with exotic scents, the insects and birds came into the garden and the sun shone on them.

At night when it was dark and quiet, she would sometimes wake up with the feeling that the Gardener was back, and she would curl up with fear. She knew he was banished to the heap of dying rotting vegetation in the compost heap, but she felt him grasping out for a hold on her. At these times she would curl up and remember the pain she had been through, the help the young man gave her and the beauty that now surrounded her. She knew that she was now secure in the garden. It cannot be said that when she tended the garden she did not find the saplings of evil amongst the flowers. However, she was now prepared. She would don her thick gloves and with a trowel in one hand, would calmly remove the stinging plant, banishing it to the furthest corner of the garden where it would rot in silence. A wry smile on her face it gave her satisfaction that all the dying pain would be transformed, the evil would be made good and feed the beauty that now surrounded her.

Slowly pushing open the huge and solid wooden door leading to the walled garden, the sound of gravel being crushed by its great weight, the nervousness of her breath as her feet slid back on the wet soil, the little girl eagerly anticipated the adventure ahead of her. As the door gave way and fell wide open, the sudden rush of sunlight sent her twisting to avert her gaze from the brilliance. Closed tight she dared not open her eyes, but she could wait no longer and with childish exuberance flung herself forward onto the lawn that spread out before her. Now, wide eyed, she looked at the sights before her, the sun shone off the flowers and radiated their beauty. She turned and danced and sang, full of excitement, a blur of colour and sweet smells surrounded her, she had never been so happy.

Suddenly she stopped in her tracks, there before her stood a giant silhouetted figure, its dark shadow stretching out, draped over her like a blanket of night. She looked up tentatively, and smiled the smile of innocence.

Without warning a warm sound met her ears and she turned to see the smiling faces of a woman and a man beside her. The woman bent over towards her, her face coming into to focus. She had a kind face, a face worn by the sun and the rain, wrinkled by time and faintly marked by long since faded scars.

She spoke. 鈥淔ear not my child, enjoy the beauty within these walls. Smell the flowers, dance and sing, for I shall look after you and keep you safe鈥�.

Proudly the woman stood up, her gaze swept slowly from the child, passed her partner to the garden beyond and then back. Smiling more deeply she stated, 鈥� For I am the Gardener Now!鈥�