Whispers of Liberty

Chapter One ~ Renata and the fuzzy pink creature

My name is Renata  Viento. I’m going 17 in the spring when the freesias poke out from the ground.

My family gave me the birthdate April 29th after we waited for just that to happen. After the incident I couldn’t remember much and my birthdate was one of the many things I never got back. I guess it never stood out to me or I just didn’t celebrate it. Anyhoo… the first year after…well… the incident, Papa, Creed and I waited for the freesias to bloom on the west lawn and on the day they did, we said that will be my ‘birthdate’. At eleven it seemed like a good plan but I guess now it sounds pretty dumb.

Creed is my sort of brother by the way; I don’t think I mentioned it before. I stated ‘sort of’ because we’re not related.  Papa and Mama Cat aren’t my real parents either, just to clarify…if it wasn’t kinda of obvious by now anyway. Papa’s name is Caleb and his wife is named Caterina- I address her as ‘Mama Cat’ mostly because I have a mother. Well, I had a mother…she’s dead…I think.  I didn’t really know my father so I just call Caleb, Papa.

I used to go to Moody-Creek high school, Home of the ‘Swamp Monsters’ and the mascot is a real crowd pleaser. That was sarcasm by the way and you might want to get used to it because I use it A LOT.  But on a serious note, the school sucked: the kids were odd, the teachers lacked life, the cafeteria food was nausea-inducing and I can go on and on. Eventually my parents finally agreed to take me out of that hell-hole basically around the time when they found out I was teaching the teachers after getting enough credits to graduate two years early. So now I’m between home and my dad’s job learning the ropes of managing a multimillion dollar company. Mama Cat also has ‘equipped me with the tools to run a household that will carry me throughout my life’ –her words, not mine. By that she means, I now can cook a five-course meal (Italian cuisine of course with a bit of comfort food thrown in there for Papa), do laundry for a 20-member household, plant a herb garden using recycled materials and well…dirt, manage my hair enough to put it into a tight chignon and the list- trust me on this one- goes on.

Creed was my best friend but because he was sent to this super elite boarding school at age 13 it kinda put a strain on that relationship. Plus, I am a girl…and Creed isn’t too good at understanding girl stuff, he’s kinda like Papa that way.  Creed is two years older than me and if you did the math (I’m sure you didn’t) you would realise he left one year after I blessed this family with my presence.  It was a busy year.  I had a lot to cope with and figure out. I didn’t talk for the first three weeks I was here. If you had woken up in a large bed with a large group of strangers staring at you and asking you for answers to questions you know you should know but can’t remember you would too.  Thankfully a lot of the basic things came back to me overtime; my name, age, Mama and odd information about plants and nature  that you wouldn’t know unless you are an old lady that is REALLY obsessed with tree bark.

That leads me to the next topic: fitting in. Well…I never could- I still don’t. All my family are beautiful individuals that are so talented and unique. They all have smooth olive-skin with hair as dark as a raven’s wing. The men in my family are tall and strong and super handsome.  The women are gorgeous. And then there’s me;  I’m  average height and fairly attractive I guess but I don’t hold a candle to my counterparts.  My eyes are weird too. I know it’s random but it’s true. They change colour according to my moods. When I’m sad they go  murky grey,  green when I’m super happy, hazel when I’m chilled, icy blue when I’m scared and dark brown when I’m annoyed.  It may sound cool hearing it but I’m sure if someone walked up to you and their eyes went all rainbow-swirl you’d be freaked out.

My sort-of-sister, Gianna is my best friend. She’s a 4’ 7’’ ball of joy and she’s the energizer bunny of the family. Gianna and I always had a bond. We met during my 5th day after the incident after Mama Cat had given me some carrot sticks for a snack and left the kitchen to answer the phone in Papa’s study. I was sitting in the tallest chair I had ever seen in my life and was focused more on not falling and splitting my head in two than eating. Plus…I hate carrots. The ceiling was high up in the air and I was farther from the ground than I wanted to be…