The Gift of Ashling

February 11, 2012
By jessiellis_16 BRONZE, Grovetown, Georgia
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jessiellis_16 BRONZE, Grovetown, Georgia
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Author's note: I had a dream when i was four yaers old and there was a boy in my dream and i ended up meeting him 9 years later he is now my best friend. I told my grandmother about it and she too had dreams similar she told me about the story of the Irish second sight and it inspired me to write about it.

Completely inexplicable, the things i see when i close my eyes and go to sleep cannot be fathomed. I sometimes wonder how is it possible for these dreams to actually be happening, but they do and i hate to sit there and watch them unravel. Ever since i was four years old i have had odd dreams and as a child my parents passed them off as being the pure and playful mind of my adolescent days.However, as i grew older i began to understand and more frequently see the correlation in these dreams. There is something odd about The way i see the world , i see it as a world trapped inside of a world even more detrimental then the one we know. I'm afraid to speak up, they will think I'm crazy send me to a hospital, but if they could only see the world through my eyes they would realize what It is that plagues my thoughts everyday.

My parents adopted me from Dublin , Ireland when i was sixteen months old. My father is a business man and was transferred to Dublin because of his work my mother is a sweet fun loving all American lady who longed for a child that she could not have. While in Dublin my mother came across a catholic orphanage , there she met me an abandoned baby girl. The Nuns told her I was left behind and no one knew who my parents were. The nuns called me Eva , but my mom knew i was an Ashling which means dream or vision in Irish. My mother told me i looked like the baby girl she always wanted, like the one in her dreams henceforth the name Ashling. My mother and father wasted no time in adopting me and by the time i was almost four we were scheduled to move again this time to a small town called Droom, Massachusetts.

Here and Droom i have spent most of my life. Droom is populated with people of Dutch Heritage Most of which who have learned to speak dutch. i Remember when i was little my dad use to tell me when he would tuck me in "en droom zacht."(sweet dreams) he picked up some dutch when we moved to droom. Ironically Droom means dream in Dutch, someone or something had a plan for me sending me here. And to think all of these dreams began with a dream of her beauty voice and a glimpse of a butterfly.

The author's comments:
the lullaby in the chapter is a real Irish lullaby called Molly Molane

The first dream i could remember was a beautiful blonde haired green eyed and pale skinned Irish woman rocking me in her arms singing, "In Dublin's fair city
where the girls are so pretty
I first set my eyes on sweet Molly Malone
She wheeled her wheel barrow
through streets broad and narrow
Crying “Cockles and mussels alive, alive oh!".
As she placated my wines with her lullaby a beautiful peacock butterfly passed by it was springtime in Dublin. As the years have passed i revisited this dream time and time again . i was beginning to get an inkling that this beautiful lady that sang to me in my dreams was my mother. As i grew with maturity i began to look more and more like her my skin clear and pale white like hers my hair thin and blonde like hers and my eyes bright and green just like hers. I longed to know her, i longed to be in her arms once more, but this dream was soon to be crushed because when i was six years old my dreams for told a tragedy in it'self. The night was cold and snow made the Dublin cobble stone a tad slippery. There she was walking down the road most likely on her way home when a man approached her from behind. He grabbed her by her arm and she turned around only to gasp in terror. The man was older but not too old , however far older then her maybe late forties early fifties . He shoked her violently demanding and answer , however she only responded with cries of pain and fear. The man than stopped almost like he was going to leave her be , however this was not the case he then reached into her coat pocket with melancholy preciseness he stabbed her in the chest and removed the knife then wiped the blade with her scarf . My heart dropped into my stomach as i watched her fall to the ground gasping for air with tears streaming down her face. The mans question was " oh, Molly dear where is she?" As her body laid on the cold Dublin street he walled away singing this very same song. " In Dublin's fair city
where the girls are so pretty
I first set my eyes on sweet Molly Malone
She wheeled her wheel barrow
through streets broad and narrow
Crying “Cockles and mussels alive, alive oh!

Alive alive oh
alive alive ohh
Crying cockles and mussels
alive alive ohhh

She was a fishmonger
and sure t’was no wonder
For so were her mother and father before
They wheeled their wheel barrow
through the streets broad and narrow
Crying cockles and mussels alive alive oh

Alive alive oh
alive alive ohh
Crying cockles and mussels
alive alive ohhh

She died of a fever
and no one could save her
and that was the end of sweet Molly Malone
now her ghost wheels her barrow through streets broad and narrow
Crying cockles and mussels alive alive oh

Alive alive oh
alive alive ohh
Crying cockles and mussels
alive alive ohhh." With a god awful grin from ear to ear he walked away . This dream haunted me for years and When i was older i wanted to see if this dream was merely fiction or reality. So i researched the murder of a women in Dublin and i found an article in The Dublin Daily. Sure enough there lied her cold lifeless body and the incident evidently taken place only a few weeks after my dream . The day was Decemember 3rd, 2000 and her name was Molly Fitzgerald she was twenty-five years old when she died of a stab wound to her chest.

I have yet to find out the name of her killer , but i believe my dreams will help me. I hate him and i believe he is after me? my mother gave me the gift of Ashling to help the world and although i could not help her i'm determined to give her the justice she deserves. I don't know what this man wanted and i will never for get his face. I Ashling Eva Allen will find him and make him suffer like Molly suffered. The only thing i need to be answered is the question of who did he want from molly and where is she? Could the girl be me?

Its 1:16 am and i'm falling into a trace as i slip into slumber flashes of Molly ,the peacock butterfly, and her corpse pass through my mind. i have drifted into my other world and there stands a man in his mid thirties standing in front of a tomb stone, in the center of a beautifully lit up garden. I look at the name on the tomb stone and there engraved into the slick Marble slab is Molly Fitzgerald. The man is holding a bouquet of beautifully colored flowers his eyes are swollen and filled with tears. He begins to speak,
"i'm sorry Molly." he sniffled.
"i never wanted this to happen, it should have been me not you. I'm so sorry Molly. I loved you so much." he whispered.

he keeled down and rested the flowers on her grave. Who is this man and what did he have to do with molly ? Was he her lover, maybe bother ?
who is he? That is what i wanted to know. He had a sliver ring on his finger so he was married , was he a dear friend? I wasn't sure of anything, my dreams aren't so limpid. As he keeled before molly's grave he began to whisper again. He gave a prayer and then he once more spoke to molly's grave . he too sang the same song " In Dublin's fair city
where the girls are so pretty
I first set my eyes on sweet Molly Malone
She wheeled her wheel barrow
through streets broad and narrow
Crying “Cockles and mussels alive, alive oh!." he sang in tears.
"remember molly? that was the song i sang to you when we first met. i remember how your beautiful face lit up ." the man said with a smile.
He then put down a white envelope and arose from his knees with one last word."bye." As the man disappeared into the distance of the garden i focused my attention on the envelope he had left on molly's grave. On the envelope written in cursive was his name , Gearoid Noel Fitzgerald. He was Molly's husband my father. the pieces were finally coming together i felt myself getting closer to solving the mystery , but if the man killed Molly why didn't he kill Gearoid? There was still so many things unanswered. Suddenly, i felt myself drifting away from the scenery, but why there was still things i needed to know. I jolted away causing my cat to run out of the room , but why my door was not opened when i went to sleep?"Miko, come here kitty," i whispered softly as i peeked out my bedroom door. The hallway was dark except for the small streak of light that came from the cracked bathroom door. i saw Miko wiggle into the crack , as i approached the door i began to feel scared for some odd reason. i pushed the door open gently and as i walked in i heard Miko hiss, but why? I immediately turned my attention to him, he was sitting on the window seal peering out the window. i felt my heart pounding inside my chest now. I inched toward Miko who stood on the window seal with his tail and hairs raised. As peered out the small window i saw nothing and began to try to calm Miko , but suddenly something slapped the window i jumped back with a shriek. Only to chuckle to myself because it was only a neighborhood cat siting on a tree branch that stretched out to the window arguing with Miko.I then picked him up and turned to leave only to be surprised by my father.
"Ashling , why are screaming?" he said half asleep.
" this cat outside the window scared me an Miko." i giggled.

my father proceeded to walk towards the window and replied,
"Ashling there is nothing there."
i stared back puzzled, "how he was just there."
" it's late maybe we should all get some rest," he insisted.

How odd , the cat was just there and i know it didn't imagine it because Miko saw him too. I walked back to my room and closed the door behind me, as i bent over to let Miko down i heard a meow. However, this was not Miko i looked up and saw the cat at my window . He looked lonely so i walked to the window and let him in. He was a beautiful cat stripped with black and golden fur his eyes were grey , which was a odd color for a cat. He had a collar around his neck , as i scratched him behind his ear i looked at the name on his collar his name wassonámbulo. under his named was his address and his owner's number. i guess i will take him home tomorrow , i wonder what his name means i know it's Spanish , but that's weird for a cat that lives in Droom it's a dutch town.I crawled in bed and soon fell asleep again with Miko and sonámbulo next to me.



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