1. Amelie
Amelie
W hispers echoed from the Forest that haunted my village, beckoning for me to join the creatures that dwelled there. The dewy August grass was cool and plush under my bare feet as I walked through the haze to meet my friend at the edge of the trees.
The dirt path that always took me on my greatest adventures was alive and well, the sparkling winds brushed the trees as if to welcome me.
Creatures of the Forest poked their heads out to say hello, fluffy tailed bunnies hopped along with each of my steps to keep up.
Warm sun soaked my summer stained cheeks through the cracks in the Forest’s canopy leaves, the shadows of night long forgotten here in my dreams. Butterflies floated atop glowing orbs and birds weaved through the trees on their own special path.
The faceless dwarf accompanied me tonight, I hadn’t seen her in a while so my heart calmed when her short arms wrapped around my body.
She never spoke in my dreams but when danger lurked, she’d take my hand and give me the tenacity to forge on.
Her shoulder length white hair was combed neatly and set in place so the breeze that followed us wouldn’t hinder her view .
I used her ear as a diary. Letting her in on all of my darkest secrets. After the day I had, she was just the company I needed.
“So you know my boss, Henrik? He was kind enough to let me go home early because of the pin pricking headache I was fighting. I finished shining up the new shoes we were setting out for display and started for home. I was so close to home, less than three houses away, when two guards stopped me…” I trailed off.
After many nights wandering aimlessly through the forest with my friend, she knew all too well how guards treated women in Holleberg.
“The bigger one of them tore my satchel off my shoulder to do an authorized random search of possessions,” I mocked the greasy man’s voice.
“When he didn’t find anything, he threw my bag to the ground.
The loop that I used to cross it over my body ripped into two pieces.
When I bent to pick it up, the guard sunk the toe of his boot right into my stomach.
Then his counterpart knelt by my side. For some reason, I thought maybe he’d show me mercy.
” I laughed and looked down in time to see a sob escape my friend.
“He didn’t. He grabbed me by my hair and pulled me back to stand. My legs were wobbling, but it didn’t matter because he didn’t need me to stand as he bent his elbow back and threw his fist straight into my cheek.”
I was safe here in the Forest. Here, it was funny what I endured day to day. Because my dreams always showed me that my life was one long, drawn out, cruel fucking joke. I could only hope the punch line would be a hole dug six feet into the ground and a stone with my name carved into it.
“Blood and spit poured out of my mouth, I focused on the spot where the crimson liquid muddied the dirt road.” My voice was quieter now, the metallic tang still lingered on my tongue and reminded me of the ever present throb in my face.
The Dwarven woman squeezed my hand repeatedly. The blows to my face could have easily been the end of my life, but not even the Angel of Death would show himself in Holleberg.
It wasn’t uncommon for Lord Bosque, Holleberg’s wicked leader, to allow his men to abuse women.
In fact, cruelty was encouraged to keep us subservient.
He wanted all of his villagers to know that the palace was the power.
No hierarchy existed here. You were either poor and hungry or one of his demons.
At least today it was a physical attack and not one to my womanhood.
I wasn’t sure how many pieces left of that I had for them to take by force.
To escape this life, I dreamed. There was no time to dream or hope for a better life when I was awake so I used every moment of rest to picture a place far from here.
Though my dreams always brought me here to the Forest. The one the elders spoke of that bordered Holleberg and was known to be a purgatory for Lost Souls and all things malevolent.
I would never be so stupid to go there when I was awake but in my dreams, it was safe.
When I fight evil here, I win. I leave unscathed and with my faith halfway restored in a God I wasn’t sure I could believe in anymore.
Then I’d wake up and do it all over again.
Wake up, suffer. Dream, conquer.
Someday, I will find sanctuary.
Through the dangling branches, a woman with pin straight, black hair lurked beyond the weeping willows.
Like my dwarf friend, her face had never been clear to me.
Just skin and her raven locks to frame the sharp boundaries of her face.
I didn’t know her the way I knew the dwarf, but I knew her routine.
Any time the woman would appear, my friend would retreat. She wouldn’t go anywhere near her. I wasn’t afraid of her, but I felt her presence the way I feel a storm rolling in on the clouds. Walking alone toward the woman in the willows, I reached for her outstretched hand on my approach.
I didn’t like taking her hand, but she always took me to my prince. Then he would take me to the palace that overlooked the vast sea of deep blue water. But before I could let my palm reach hers, she evaporated into somewhere between awake and asleep.
“Ammy!” A tiny voice cut through the haze of my dream, and I watched the woman and the expanse of the haunted forest fade to black before a new haunt began.
Sticky fingers pushed my cheeks together. I fluttered my eyes open to see my youngest brother sitting criss crossed on my chest, waiting for our morning routine to begin.
I squeezed his body close to mine, trapping him as I forced the best baby giggles known to man out of him. Each day, Tildan woke me up in anticipation of his morning tickles. In his own way, he knew that joy could only be found, not given in Holleberg.
“Hi bug,” I said, pressing a kiss into his floppy blonde hair and taking in the distinct baby smell that still lingered at the top of his head. We both looked to the door when the sound of clumsy skips pounded on the creaky wooden floorboards the hallway.
Right on cue, Hansel, the second youngest, bounced into my room and plopped on the bed.
“Morning, Amelie!” He didn’t wait for permission before he, too, piled his frail body onto mine.
“Do you remember what today is?” Stars shone in his eyes.
My brothers all inherited my father’s pretty brown eyes, I had my mother’s deep blue eyes with golden rivers flowing in them.
Hansel and Tildan’s still had their twinkle, though.
Wren, the oldest of my younger brothers, his eyes were darkened now, having taken on the responsibilities of the head of household since father passed.
“Mhhh… Christmas?” I teased, knowing full well what August 21st was. Hansel furrowed his brows and his mouth tilted downward.
“It’s my birthday,” he deadpanned .
“No, your birthday was last year,” I urged, brushing a piece of his shaggy, light brown waves off of his freckled face. His cheeks were tight, attempting to suppress his megawatt smile.
“Everyone gets a birthday every year.” He pointed out.
“I distinctly remember you turning six last year, you don’t get to be any older than that. I won’t let you.”
His body rumbled into a belly laugh. He’s talked non-stop about how important his seventh birthday was. Wren’s been taunting him that all the big kid things happen when you turn seven, so Hansel’s imagination had him counting down the days.
I gave Tildan a plotting look, and his two front teeth peeked through his smile. We tackled Hansel, tickling him relentlessly. Hansel burst at the seams, trying to catch his breath through the laughter.
“Happy Birthday, Hansel.” I gave my brother a kiss on the cheek.
“Can I have a cake?” Hansel dropped his hopeful eyes to his fingers. He twiddled them together, anxiously awaiting an answer.
Hansel made every day the best day ever, but I knew it was only a way to cope. Just like dreaming was for me. The best day ever would be the day we escaped this hell.
“I’ll try my best, buddy.” Knowing that there was little I could do to find anything in our rations to bake with.
“It’s okay if I don’t get one. Someday I’m going to make so many cakes for all the birthdays we didn’t get one for. For me, you, Tildie, and Wren.” Hansel promised.
“That’s a lot of sugar.” I tucked both of my littlest brothers into my arms tight, holding onto their innocence for dear life.
Hansel was a storyteller. His mind went to places not even I could dream of and half the time I felt the need to redirect it back to reality, but then I would be a hypocrite.
Someday, I knew the next generations would relay the stories he told.
They’d say The great traveler Hansel once said…
then tell the most fantastical stories of my little brother’s adventures. Even if they are all made up.
“Let’s go, boys! I’m running late.”
Wren’s voice struck us like lightning. All three of our backs went ramrod straight. Tildan and Hansel come to me for fun, but Wren for structure. He was a man in a teenager’s body.
Hansel hid under my quilt. Tildan bounced to the edge of the bed to meet Wren at my door.
The expression on my thirteen-year-old brother’s face would make a soldier shake in his boots. Wren’s brows were pinched and his caramel-colored curls were wet and falling into his face. He stared at the younger two who were still exhaling their morning breath and lounging in their pajamas.
I scooped Hansel up and stepped onto the creaky wood floor below me. It threatened to fall straight into the sitting room below us but held on for yet another day.
“I have to go, Amelie!” Wren motioned to the two boys that were not ready for the day with pure frustration on his face.
“You can head out. I’ll get Hansel to school and drop Tildie at Magda’s.”