Lullaby

The Old Farm

We sit under the tree. I'm held in her arms. Singing my favourite lullaby, she tells me to go to sleep.

She says everything will be alright, but I didn't even know anything was wrong.

A warm, gentle hand strokes my hair and I find myself struggling to stay awake. I don't want to close my eyes, because I know that if I do I would drift off into a peaceful sleep, and I feel like if I do that something bad will happen to us. So I just stare hard at the narrow river to the right of us and take in as much detail as my brain can comprehend.

At this time of day, I would usually feel very safe, if only we were in our house. Unfortunately, we're at our old farm in the middle of a vast paddock that runs for miles in every direction from us. It's the middle of the night, and the humid summer air makes it a bit hard to breathe.

We sit under a single weeping willow tree that surely would have no life in it if it weren't for the stream flowing next to it, and around one-hundred metres behind us begins a dense pine forest.

It's a shame, really. I know mum's trying hard to hide something from me, but I just can't seem to be fooled. I've stayed so close to her throughout my whole life that I can tell what she's thinking without her even hinting anything. I can tell the difference between her thinking about the book she just read, or a new friend she had made. Since I've never really had anyone else in my life, I've learnt how to read her every expression. She means the world to me.

I hate seeing her this way, so insecure, so... scared. She reminds me of a traumatised child locked away in her room, straining her ears for the sound of footsteps coming towards, what she says is, 'the only happy place in the house'. I've only seen her act this way once before, and that was about two years ago when my older brother got taken away by a few guards. It was the day he turned 15. I vaguely remember him, but the night when he was taken away, I remember that all too well.

There were three guards knocking on the door and when mum didn't answer for the fourth time, they broke it down. Mum was hiding with us in the closet, holding us both; one of us in each arm. She whispered to us to keep quiet, but that was all the guards needed to give away our hiding place. The door ripped open and as fast as you could say 'no', Jaidyn was taken out of her arms and was being carried to a car waiting outside our house. Mum screamed and tried to hold on to Jaidyn for dear life, but those three guards were too strong. Blank-faced, they left our home with my heart-broken brother. Mum was left screaming and sobbing on the floor. I've never heard someone in such distress in my life.

Mum made it seem like the long trip to our old farm was just for enjoyment, and I would be fooled if it weren't for the shake in her usually angelic voice, and the worry in her ice-blue eyes.

The location alone should be a warning sign. We never come here, that's why I can tell something's wrong. This is where mum, dad, Jaidyn and I used to come before dad was shot and before Jaidyn was taken away. We came here as a family.