To an outsider, it looked unremarkable, but the villagers had always known the truth. It had started with a prayer for love and precious ring that had long ago been swallowed up by the cool water. She had been a simple village girl, who knew very little but believed in magic. She had trusted the water and had given it the only thing she had, her most valuable possession, in fact, the only thing that she had left of him. He had disappeared not long he had given her that. If she was honest it had always felt too good for her. Now all she could do was pray that he would find his way back to her. And so, she made a wish. Not three days later she was gone too, no note or explanation. People would swear for years to come that the well had granted her wish and that she had found her love and they were happy once more.
Every wish made over these waters would come true or that’s what they told the children. The water only required one thing, one small sacrifice. You give the water something of value and the water will give you so much more. The village was full of legends of how the well had served them. Some claimed it had saved their lives or the lives of those that they loved. For some, it had returned things that had been lost, everything from lost cats to lost loves. It seemed that everyone in the village had a story, every family had a myth about it. It had become a valued member of their community. No one could picture the village without it.
In return for its service, the village maintained it. Years ago, they had built a wall to protect it. What was remarkable about this was that the wall was littered with yet more relics left by village inhabitants. Items were stuffed into cracks and placed among the cement. Some were placed by the builders, reminders of the well had changed their lives, photos, locks of children's hair and even an engagement ring. But others were placed by people still longing for just a piece of the well magic. These mainly consisted of notes written in a fervent scrawl and even items belonging to long-lost family members left by those longing for them to find their way back.
The coin hits the water with a dull thud. Water lifted in the air, as though it were reaching up towards the sky. Or maybe it was trying to pull her in. The wishing well had always been there, in one way or another. It had filled her childhood, at the centre of those long summer days. While the memories of that time had begun to fade and wither in the corner the well remained perfectly in focus. The water barely moved now, it simply trickled in and out of the small pool. She closed her eyes and wished as hard as she could, counting to ten before finally opening them once again. She did just as her grandmother had caught her. She hung over the wall and stared down into the dark waters. She turned around expecting to see him standing behind her. Wishing she could see her brother standing behind her, smiling in his pristine uniform, as though they were still in that train station. Still trying to say goodbye.
It will all be over by Christmas, that’s what they had said, two years later and they were still fighting. She desperately wanted the news that it was all over, that her brother would be coming home. Instead, they had gotten a telegram. The same one that was clutched in her hand today, as if she could squeeze the truth out of it. “Missing in action.” Three words that filled her with dread. Her mother had refused to accept it. Her life had continued on as if the telegram had never arrived as if he was at any moment going to walk through the front door. And their father, he hadn't said much, hiding behind his newspapers and a whiskey bottle.
Just for good measure, she counted to ten once more and slowly opened her eyes. Once more she waited to hear her brothers familiar voice from behind her. But she was only greeted with silence and birds chirping and the faintest trickle of water coming from the pool below her. It was only then that she noticed that she had been crying, she reached up and wiped the tears from her face with the back of her worn sleeve jacket. She couldn't help feeling pathetic when people were going through so much worse than this. For good measure, she folded the crumpled piece of paper that was still stuffed in her hand. She folded it as small as she could get it and then bending down she slid it amongst the cracks in the cement and bricks.
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