The Locket

Chapter One, Strange Men.

I have very distant memories of where I first lived. Not that it matters, I don't think it does. But they keep me awake at night. It is almost like they grab ahold of me and hold on tightly. It's a place of many trees, flowers, and animals. It is so lively. It was so lively. If I think hard enough, I can take myself back there, to that day, to that moment, to the very second my world was like that.

It was absolutely nothing like where I am now. I don't know. Where I live now is nothing like the place I dream of. It is a place of many dead trees, old souls who used to be. There aren't flowers, there are hardly weeds. The streets are lined with rocks and old skulls of the animals who used to roam the town they once called home. The town of Arwen. 
It is the sort of thing you think of when you have nightmares. No one is here, anymore. There is merely a small bundle of stores, like a butcher, a church, a small place to trade, a very seldom used inn, and everyone who is too poor to leave. Oh. And an orphanage. To name a few.

I came here when I was ten years old. It is hard to believe it's been eight years, since we came here. I'm not an orphan, not anything close to one. My parents run the orphanage. At the time of the war, from what I remember, we had to move here. It was much more affordable. We got this big run-down house and moved into it. We got chickens, pigs, cows, everything we need to live off of the land. Unfortunately, shortly after that, our neighbor's house caught fire. They had two girls and a boy. We took them in. And since then, any child who has needed a place to be, whether it be temporary, or indefinitely, we have taken them in.

It is a beautiful day today. The sun is shining, the frost on the ground is starting to melt. And there is the most appealing bite in the air. I absolutely adore days like this. Winter is the one time of year that this barren place feels like it has a purpose. A reason to be. Because frankly, what isn't barren in winter? But it's not winter, here. It is actually March, it's mid-springtime. Or it is supposed to be. We don't see Spring, here. We never do, really.
I love looking at the frost-bitten ground, the way the grass has a layer of ice on it. It looks as if each blade of grass was wearing some sort of lace coat. Or would it be a hat? A lace blanket, we will call it. A lace blanket. Isn't that the most beautiful picture? Winter is my favorite. I love the soups. I love the fact we can stay inside and read. I love absolutely everything about it. The snow. Something about the view from my window just gives the most comforting atmosphere.

"Florie!!"

I silently peeked my head out of my bedroom door, glancing around the halls. "Yes?!"

"Florie!!" She repeated. 
"Yes, Mother?!"

"Florence!!" She repeated. 
Instead of answering a third time, I swiftly made my way down the staircase, into the kitchen, "Yes?"

"Florie, sweetie, what are you doing? I've been calling you, and-" 
"I'm sorry, I was stitching up Rose's dress." I said, "I answered you.." 
"Oh, did you? I'm sorry, the kids are talking, and-"

"What can I help you with?" 
"I need you to pick up the roast, from the butcher, I was wondering if you could please take the girls and go get that. And Isaac."

"I can, yes." I said, "that would be lots of fun, yeah."

Mom smiled and nodded her head, "Thank you." She walked over to the counter, grabbing a small bag of change, "Here you are. I counted it out, this is all we need."

"Thank you." I said, "I'll find the kids, then." 
Mom nodded her head, smiling, "Yes, wonderful. Rose and Isabel are in the other room, Isaac's. Doing something. I don't know what exactly he is doing."

I nodded my head, walking over to the main room. Normally, the room is sunny. There is a big table in the middle of the room for drawing and schoolwork. A piano in the corner of the room. A chessboard in front of the window. But today it seems sort of gloomy. Not sort of. It is gloomy. The long windows show a blanket of gray clouds covering the sky. We better go soon. Because it is either rain or snow, and neither one I would like to walk home in.