Safe Harbor

| 24 |

"Have you heard?"

"I can't believe it..."

"Who would have thought?"

The whispers pierce the air around us, as they have for the last month or so, now.

"Traitors, the bloody lot of them."

"They don't deserve to be here."

"They're against us."

If I hear another one, I have a feeling I'll erupt, so I do my best to walk past the chattering kids, towards the dining area for breakfast.

It's then I spot them.

The whispering gets louder, once they're in sight; in range. It picks up to muttering, then to low voices; never loud enough for anyone besides their target to hear, conveniently.

It picks up.

"Go away, we don't want your lot here," one of the boys calls.

"Yeah, you're on the bad side," a girl, who can't be older than seven, also calls, her voice carrying.

My eyes narrow. I'll stand for a lot of things, but I won't stand by and watch others abuse the people I call friends.

I stride over to Bianca and Nico, who are accompanied by the other most hated kids on the island right now; Alessandra and Antonio.

"Hello, everyone," I say, greeting them with a genuine smile. "Might I accompany you to breakfast?"

Bianca looks at me, the fire in her eyes from before lessening. "Of course, Alexander. Thank you."

I can feel the others' gazes piercing holes into my back, but I ignore them, walking with them to the logs where we gather our portions and sit and eat, mostly in silence.

None of them speak, but I know what they're thinking. I look at their defeated, tired faces, and it makes me sad and angry at the same time.

"This is not your fault."

"We know," Nico replies curtly, brushing his bangs, which have come to fall across his forehead, into his eyes, out of the way. "But that does not stop them from blaming us."

"Just ignore them," I advise. "They don't know what they're talking about."

"It's easier said than done, Alex," Antonio, a boy of 15, counters. "None of my mates will speak with me anymore! Not even the lads in my own tree house!"

"Same here. When I walk around, no one will meet my eyes anymore, either. Even the ones that don't hate us do their best to avoid us," Alessandra, his twin, continues. "I feel even more an outcast than I did at school," she whispers, her eyes distraught.

"You all share absolutely no responsibility for Italy joining the war," I reply softly. "On the side of the Axis powers."

"I do," Bianca replies, her voice even more soft.

"Bianca--"

"My father is the advisor to the King!" She cries, her eyes angry. "Or at least, I thought he was." She shakes her head in disgust. "I always warned him against that saboteur, Mussolini. And I was right. He's taken over, made himself dictator over our people. I should have been more adamant, I should have made him see--"

"Bianca, stop," I say firmly, shaking my head. "No one deserves to be punished for the actions of others." I look around at the four of them, taking in their morose expressions. "Least of all, the four of you. Just ignore them, they'll come to understand, soon."