The Followers Of The Prophecy

The Letter

I haven’t fully fallen asleep since I was twelve because if I did, no force in this world could wake me up. Alarm clocks were a waste of pebblets. But that was just my excuse. Deep down, I feared a shadow that lived in my ever so punctual dreams. Built like my father: tall and fat. His arm was always elevated, ready to discipline at any second. Though too dark to see, I felt like I could see his expressions. If he had eyes, they’d be void of real emotion. If he had ears, they’d be red in anger. If he had a mouth, he’d say: “I wish I could kill myself, but I’m stuck with you.” It never failed to remind me of his harsh abuse. The way I would pay if something didn’t go right for him. The way my two older siblings were supposed to stay and protect me and the other four children, but couldn’t handle it and ran away. The responsibility of being a mother to four younger siblings, and taking every hit for them was a taxing job. I taxed my mind and my will to live, until that fateful day that I turned seventeen. The same day, my fifth younger sibling, a sister, was born, and I ran away and never came back. It was my turn to escape. But now, it is all but a fragment of my mind, a cluster of memories that will never allow me to sleep at night. 

That first night of war, the night when the messenger came from Yellowseed, it was impossible to sleep even if I tried. 

Explosions.

Royal guards against the rebels of the king.

Beeping of machines.

Swing of swords.

The rebels of the king against the followers of the king.

Gunshots.

Screams. 

Lack of knowledge. 

My clock,

Tick, tock, tick, tock, tick, tick, tick, tickticktickticktick…

And then it was tomorrow. I didn’t even consider going to Morgan's room and waking her up for school, and I didn’t expect her to pop up in my room either; yet, there was still a knock on my door. On my front door. I tiredly carried myself downstairs, still in my black nightgown, and looked through the living room window. I couldn’t believe my eyes. It was a close friend from college.

“Venus?!” I exclaimed, swinging the door open and giving her a tight hug. In that hug, I felt the vibration again. The Amelia Aura. My heart skipped a beat, but I ignored it. 

“Happy birthday! Twenty-four already,” she said back, “I was gonna stop by a week ago and spend your birthday with you, but the carriage system stopped working. This whole thing has been going on for a while in other states. So then I started travelling on Lego, my mount, even if he's just to show off. They kidnapped him in Cirrane. I'm not even surprised though, that beast is expensive. Then I snuck in wagons and mail carriages until I got here, like, a couple hours ago. I was at Yirania’s house baking a cake for you.”

She shoved a cake in my face, and I chuckled in delight, remembering Yirania, another college friend. After introducing her to my house, she asked about Morgan. I opened her bedroom door and showed Venus how Morgan slept. Blanket on the floor, a hairball of knots on her head, and her saliva washing the pillow. 

“And she’ll sleep until noon”, I told her. 

“She's grown so much!” Venus said. 

I excused myself for a minute, brushed my teeth, and changed. Then I sat at the dining room table with her. Venus towered over me because she was a tree being, quite literally a tree, standing at about eight feet in height. A canopy on her head, skin made of bark, and roots instead of feet. Bright pastel eyes, and no sign of a mouth. And her looks were as pristine as always. I admired her pale yellow eyes and her hard to move expressions as she told me everything that has happened since college.