[pronounced tah-hee]
tw: mass homicide, blood, gore, abuse
"And then I was nothing."
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• 𝚈𝙴𝙰𝚁 𝙳𝙲𝙲𝙲𝚇𝚇𝚇𝚅𝙸𝙸 •YOUR LIFE, to begin with, was simple. Peaceful, even.
It was quite a standard farm life, hands rarely vacant of any tool that you required to turn over soil or spread hay across a field.
Your days consisted of a certain routine you followed to a T. The village you lived in was filled to the brim with your family. Cousins playing, aunts and uncles conversing, your parents and brother working alongside you, readying soil for the next seasons produce haul.
The sun warmed your skin, a thin layer of sweat glossed across your forehead. Laughter echoed over the plains, calls of livestock ringing through your ears. Birds flying freely above your heads, this was the life you grew accustomed to.
Your family adored you. At first, it was only a mystery as to why you were treated somewhat differently from the other kids a little older than you. But it didn't take long for you to find out you were the only firstborn in the entire village. Even at a young age, you found it rather concerning that you were the only firstborn present in the family.
Why? That was a mystery to no one but you and the other children. But you paid no mind, the attention was nice. You were spoilt and you were happy. That was all that played on your mind; a child who wanted nothing more than to be loved.
Though, in the background, your younger brother lurked. For some reason, he had some type of grudge to hold against you, what you did was something you and your family were oblivious to. Reconciling with him was out of the question, you'd tried countless times before and had given up since.
As the years went on, his hatred toward you only grew, and it eventually became mutual. You had decided it'd be best if you avoided him at all costs, continuing with your daily doings, eating with little conversation that concerned him, even just standing in the same room as him for longer than necessary.
It wasn't everyday you had a sibling you couldn't converse with. You would say it ached, but it didn't. It was a common occurrence, your requited ignorance with your brother. This was what you were used to by now, until winter solstice.
The night was unbearably cold. You had just finished putting the sheep away in the barn for the night, pulling your jacket further over your shoulders in an attempt to keep the warmth from escaping. As you breathed, clouds formed in front of your face, disappearing just as fast as they came.
Though, as you walked through the streets of your village lit by the dying light of day, something felt odd. No light came through the windows of your neighbours homes, no sign of life at all. You eyed each building in question but decided to push aside your need to check on your family. It was far too cold, so perhaps your family had all gone to bed by now.
It wasn't uncommon for your family to retreat to their rooms and the warmth of their beds during the winter, so naturally you didn't think too much about it. You turned a corner, and then another, your eyes directing themselves to your own home that was lit like a beacon. The door was wide open, the light from the inside illuminating part of the street and rising up over your figure as you inched forward.
You were now more confused than anything, your mother hated the cold so why the door remained open in the middle of winter was beyond you. Your eyebrows furrowed, cautiously approaching your home before a blood curdling cry came from inside followed by multiple low hums.
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