Once upon a time, there was a little girl called Eshi. She lived happily in a friendly village with her parents, and everyone said that she was the sweetest girl they had ever known. The only times Eshi got into trouble were when she came home from a day of adventures with grazed knees and mud on her dress. Her mother would scold her harshly. She would have to scrub herself and her dress until both were as good as new. She wouldn’t be allowed adventures for a whole week after that, which made her very sad.
On the day of her seventh birthday, her mother brought out pink ribbons. As soon as Eshi saw them, she ran upstairs and hid under her bed. She knew what was coming. All the girls in the village wore pink ribbons in their hair. It was no use hiding under the bed, though. Her father came stomping up the stairs to pull her out. She kicked and screamed, so he gripped her close, clamping one big hand over her mouth. She kept screaming as he stomped back down but it was no use, he was too strong. When she had stopped squirming, he placed her on the kitchen table, his hand still over her mouth. With quick and nimble fingers, her mother tied ribbon after ribbon into her hair. Tears streamed down Eshi’s face, but she didn’t fight or bite.
When her mother was finished, her father let her go. There, said her mother, that wasn’t so bad. You didn’t need to make such a fuss. Eshi was stunned. Her parents had never treated her like this before. Looking at them through her tears, they seemed huge and terrifying. Her father took her by the hand and led her to a mirror. Look how beautiful you are, he said.
Eshi hated the ribbons. She hated them, she hated them, she hated them.
Lying in her bed that night, she tried to untie them. She pulled and squeezed, jiggled and shook but her mother’s knots were too clever. They didn’t budge. Refusing to give up, Eshi tiptoed down to the kitchen. She took the big scissors from the hook, and cut off each ribbon in a chunk of hair. If her parents tried to tie more ribbons tomorrow, she’d cut them off too. She’d cut out ribbons every time till there was no hair left if she had to.
Defiant but weepy, she went back to bed. Tomorrow would be better, she thought. Her parents loved her after all.
When her mother called to wake her up the next day, she had forgotten about yesterday. She skipped down the stairs, looking forward to the milk she’d drink fresh from the cow. Her parents gasped as she ran past. They shouted at her to come back to the kitchen. Eshi was a good girl, so she did. It was very confusing because she had no idea what was wrong.
What have you done to your hair, they asked. Eshi had been thinking about milk so she didn’t know what they were talking about. Tell us, her parents said, tell us what you did, why did you do it? All in a rush, last night with the scissors came back to Eshi. She remained very quiet. Little girls must wear pink ribbons, said her father. I’ll get new ones to put in, said her mother.
She couldn’t bear it. I don’t like ribbons, said Eshi quietly, I won’t wear them. She prepared to shout at her parents if they shouted at her. She prepared to run as hard as she could if they tried to grab her.
Instead, her parents were silent and still. At first they looked angry, then scared, then sad. Ok, they said after a long, long time. That’s ok. Come Eshi, let’s go for a walk.
With her mother holding one hand and her father holding the other, they set out. Eshi felt better. They understand now, thought Eshi, it will be ok. I can be herself. I won’t have to wear the ribbons. Things are back to normal. I can be a happy person again.
They walked all the way through the village, coming at last to a ramshackle house at the edge of the forest. The wooden walls were rotten, there were holes in the roof, no birds were singing. It didn’t make sense. Her parents had always told her to stay away from this house. Why are we here, she asked. You need to go inside, said her father. Why, asked Eshi. Her mother started crying. You just must, said her father. Is this about the ribbons, asked Eshi. There was no reply.
Her father picked her up and carried her to the door. Holding her with one arm, he knocked with the other. Eshi kept still. There was nothing for her to do.
The door creaked open. It was impossibly dark inside. It smelled of old sweat and rancid, raw meat. Her father shoved her into the dark and the door thudded shut behind her.
There were people nearby. She could sense them in her almost-blindness. She clutched fistfuls of her skirt and backed into the door. There was nowhere to go.
One of the people came forward and offered her a hand. There was nowhere to go. She took it. The hand guided her to a rickety chair. The air was old, like windows never opened and the people never went out. She sat in the chair with a splintering sound. A little light glinted through cracks in the walls. Her eyes were adjusting to the gloom.
Hello, they said, we are the Liver Eaters. Each of them was missing some teeth. What teeth they had jutted out at funny angles and were capped with sharp bits of metal. It was too late for Eshi to be afraid. Her parents had brought her here.
The Liver Eaters didn’t crowd her. They stood respectfully a little way away. You must become one of us, they said, and stay here forever. There is a way we can let you go, but if we do, we must first eat your liver. Do you want to go?
Eshi couldn’t stay in this place. The Liver Eaters weren’t bad, but forever was too long to imagine.
She lifted her skirt to reveal her tummy. The Liver Eaters gathered close. One of them gave her a mug of thick, green liquid. They were looking at her. She drank. It made her cough.
One of the Liver Eaters leaned forward and very gently began to bite Eshi’s tummy. It felt like pulling and she couldn’t move. Her body felt like not her body. She was woozy. There was a lot of blood. They were pulling something out of her. They were sewing her up with ugly, thick twine, like on her ragdolls.
The Liver Eaters picked her up and took her outside the front door. Her parents were standing nearby. They didn’t come over when the door opened. They didn’t do anything. We’re very sorry, said the Liver Eaters. We don’t like doing this. Then they closed the door.
Eshi’s parents took her home. Her mother cried a lot. That evening, they gave Eshi her favourite dinner.
Just before bedtime, her mother brought out pink ribbons. I’m going to tie them in your hair, she said.
Eshi didn’t mind. Nothing bothered her any more.