The Wild Woman & Her Daughter

In the heart of Africa, there lived a wild, free woman named Lady Penelope. She spent her days roaming around the grasslands, indulging in its beauty and freedom. She was friends with all the animals who roamed the plain, and spent lots of time around them each day. She swam with hippos and elephants, relaxed around lazy lions and played with the monkeys. Every day brought a new sense of wonder to her - she may not have an Adam, but she was a definitive Eve.

Her favourite thing to do every day was go down to the stillness of the lake and collect flowers which fell gently onto the water. She would go back to her cave straight after she picked a handful and decorate it with their bright colours and fresh scents.

Nature was full of love for this woman, and she lived in ultimate peace and harmony with every single element that nature represented in the cycle of life. Until the day she became pregnant with me - that’s right, I’m her daughter. The name’s Sarah, and I’ll tell you all about it.

For days she’d been preparing for my arrival, yet she didn’t know if it was a boy or a girl. She ate good food, mainly fruit from the trees which grew some and made them fresh. She rested a lot too, with no time to play with the monkeys or bathe with the elephants. She was eating and resting to make sure I was born beautiful and healthy - the first child born in the wild. Then came the night I was born.

Screams echoed through Penelope’s cave as lightning flashed outside and rain fell heavily. She tried breathing, and as I slowly started to come out, Lady Penelope tried hard not to scream while I was coming out. However, my birth was too much for her to handle, and she screamed loudly:

“YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!”

And there I was: a beautiful, healthy baby, just 0 months old and fresh into the wild. Penelope was moved to tears by how beautiful I was.

After painfully cutting off the umbilical cord with a sharp rock (ooh, that must’ve hurt, you know), Penelope shakily got up on her legs and took me outside to clean all the slimy blood and cheesy wax coating off my skin.

However, instead of taking me to the lake where she normally bathed, she lifted me high into the air as rain poured right down onto me, my cries echoing through Africa, the lightning settling down a bit. Bit by bit, the cheesy coating and the bloody slime melted off my skin and onto the ground, as Penelope felt like sobbing. She had given birth to a beautiful baby girl - a girl who will continue protecting the wild after she is gone. And thus, she named me….Sarah.

After I was cleaned up, Penelope and I spent the rest of the night cuddling, cooing and giggling. It soothed me and stopped me crying. The sounds of nature outside also soothed me, and soon I was fast asleep against Penelope’s skin, safe and warm and comfortable.