1. Poor Little Girl
Acacia Elfman, a girl whose countenance bore a far greater burden than her nine years should allow, sat on her bed, halfway to tears. Her small room was strewn with clutter from her mother’s various failed vocational endeavors, stored there when they’d run out of room in the rest of the house. There was but one decoration on her wall: a poster of the Greater Magellanic Cloud as seen from the Hubble Telescope. She had no view of the real stars from her bedroom window. The hulking great mass of a broken-down RV had been parked in front of it for as long as she could remember. So she had her poster. She would stare at it often, wishing to be in some other land, on some other planet. Anywhere she could get away from the turmoil of her own home. She would imagine what the people on those worlds would be like. They’d be jolly, gregarious, good-humored, and above all, kind.
A loud crash came from down the hall and she winced, finally breaking down into tears. Another clash came, like the unkind truth shattering this her meekest of dreams. There are no other worlds. Not for her. Even if they do exist, she’d never get there. The only world she was convinced she would ever know is this tortured, neglected, unloved existence that the screaming coming through her door endlessly reasserted. A faint sound of caroling drifted in from her open window, carried on the chill breeze. The only clue in the entire house that Christmas was almost here. There was no tree, no cards, no plans for family togetherness on Christmas Eve. Maybe she’d get a present, like the second-hand sweater she’d got last year only because she’d complained about not having a coat. Her family wasn’t poor, but her parents were so consumed by their own problems and interests that they hardly noticed she even existed.
She heard footsteps coming down the hall. A shot of adrenaline surged through her as she scrambled to turn off her light before they saw. She’d grown to be thankful for her solitude. It was the times they did notice her that she most feared. As a pregnant silence settled over the house, Acacia curled up under her covers and fell into a restless sleep.
This is a work of fan fiction, written because the author has an abiding love for the works of J R R Tolkien. The characters, settings, places, and languages used in this work are the property of the Tolkien Estate, Tolkien Enterprises, and possibly New Line Cinema, except for certain original characters who belong to the author of the said work. The author will not receive any money or other remuneration for presenting the work on this archive site. The work is the intellectual property of the author, is available solely for the enjoyment of Henneth Annûn Story Archive readers, and may not be copied or redistributed by any means without the explicit written consent of the author.