38. Voices
Voices
Age…
“You have to be careful as an Omega. There are people who want to hurt us. I need to know that you will fight back with everything you have. Do anything to keep yourself safe.”
I stare at my papa.
Why is he saying these scary things? Why would anyone want to hurt me?
“Evie? What do you do if someone grabs you?”
I know this one!
“I scream as loud as I can, and I hit, and I try my hardest to get away.”
“Good girl. You run, okay? You run and never stop running until you’re safe.”
He smells strongly of apples and pears. He’s proud of me. I beam up at him, showing off my teeth and the gap where my tooth used to be.
“Papa, can I go play now?”
He ruffles my hair and leans down, placing kisses all over my face until I laugh. I pull away, pushing him with all my strength until he stops. It tickles and I can’t stop laughing, but he finally lets go.
“Stay where I can see you, okay?”
I run away from the house, jumping onto the rope swing that hangs from the tree. I lift into the air, and run my feet along the ground, getting faster and faster until everything becomes blurry and my stomach twists.
I jump, landing on the soft grass, and lie on my back, looking up through the branches of the tree to the sky. The sky spins and the clouds rock back and forth, but I’m focused on the tree.
I bet I could see the whole world from up there.
One day I’m going to climb to the top of that tree.
I stumble to my feet and edge closer. I look up. And up. And up. My heart thumps in my chest. It’s bigger than I thought.
I’m not scared.
Liar.
I don’t want to fall.
I spin away, skipping back to the house. Mama should be done soon, and she promised to play with me.
“Do you think I’m too hard on her? I know it’s a lot and she’s so young, I worry I’m scaring her?”
Papa rests his head on Mama’s shoulder, and I duck around the corner. I know I shouldn’t listen, but I want to.
“You, my sweet prince? Hard on her. No, she doesn’t understand why you’re telling her this. She’s too young, and hopefully, she will never have to understand how hard the world is for Omegas, but it’s better to prepare her.”
“She’s so trusting. I worry, and with all these Omegas going missing, I feel crazy. They aren’t just disappearing, and it’s not just here either. It’s all over the world. Someone has to be taking them, or worse. How long is this going to go on? What are they doing with them?”
She rubs his back like she does for me when I’m sad.
“I know. I know. We are doing everything we can. We’ll keep her safe.”
* * *
Warm. Toasty.
I snuggle deeper into my blanket and shuffle closer to the fire.
“Evie, move back a little.”
I scrunch up my nose and shake my head.
I don’t want to.
Mama wraps her arms around me, pulling me closer to her and away from the warmth of the flame. Another blanket slides over my head, covering me so that only my face remains exposed.
“There you go. You need to be careful around fire.”
She points at the flames dancing in the fireplace.
“Do you see how it spreads? When more wood is added, the fire moves to it.”
I watch the wood burn, going from brown to charred black.
“I see it!” I nod enthusiastically.
“Well, fire doesn’t do that with just wood. If it gets too close to other things, the fire will spread to them too. And it’s hot, remember?”
“Like my hot chocolate?” It burnt my tongue. I still remember the stinging.
“Hotter.”
Scary.
“Okay, mama. I’ll stay here. I like this blanket.”
“That’s my girl.”
* * *
“Don’t touch that. It’s sharp, okay?”
I narrow my eyes. It doesn’t look sharp. Not like the knives in the kitchen, I’m not allowed to touch.
“How sharp?”
“Very,” Papa laughs.
I eye the toolbox. It doesn’t look dangerous. Is Papa lying?
“Really?”
“Really.”
He picks me up, placing me on the counter. My legs swing back and forth.
Papa holds it out in front of him, and something clicks. A knife swings out of it, sharp and pointy.
My mouth drops open, and I lean in close. It didn’t look like a knife before. It was red and pretty.
“It’s a penknife. It has a button on it and there’s a knife inside. So you can’t play with it. It stays in the toolbox because it’s not a toy.” He says seriously.
I nod enthusiastically.
“What is it for?”
“A lot of things, mostly cutting things like rope or boxes.”
* * *
“Are you ready?”
“Ready!”
We stand on the porch, and I wait for Mama to move. I want to go to the park.
“You’re not forgetting anything?” She gives me a look, narrowing her eyes at me like she knows something I don’t.
“Nope!” I cheer.
I look down. I have my shoes on. I have a bag. I even have a snack.
“What do we do when we leave the house?”
Don’t leave without Mama or Papa.
Put on shoes.
Wear sunscreen and a hat.
Have a jacket if it’s cold or raining.
And…
“Keys!” I yell.
Mama laughs and points at the door.
“Go on then.”
I run back inside and grab the keys from the bowl.
It’s tricky, and I have to concentrate very hard, but the key slides in, and with both hands I turn until a click sounds.