Kiros Writing Contest

Entry

I awoke to the sound of voices. My parents voices. Shouting.  Again.

I crept stealthily down the narrow, steel staircase until I could hear the argument more clearly. Keeping my back pressed firmly against the banister, so as not to be seen. I shivered in my nightgown as the cool metal made contact with my skin. Tucking a loose strand of my dark hair behind my ear, I listened in.

"...the same every time, and I'm sick of it!" I recognised Father's angered tone.

"I know, and I'm sorry, it's not exactly a picnic for me either, but what do you want me to do?!" Mother responded.

"Something! I'm sick of uprooting my life every five minutes because you want to go on some soul search for a missing girl in a dress!" Father ran his hands through his hair and lowered his tone to a more serious note, "I've followed you enough times, Ayra, but not anymore. You need to choose. It's me, or them."

"How can I choose between my husband and my family? My own race? What kind of a question is that?" Mother was struggling to speak between choked sobs.

"I don't know, but it's one I need an answer to. Tomorrow, you either leave with them, or you stay here, with me. I'm done running all over the Galaxy with you, Ayra. I'm done." Silent tears were streaming down Father's face now and I couldn't take it.

I raced back up the stairs and closed the door to my room, breathing heavily. I glanced around at all the boxes. So many boxes.  All packed, ready to go.

I began to feel tears pricking my eyes as I thought about what Father had said and I struggled to keep them at bay. Big girls don't cry, I scolded myself. Besides, this happened every time we moved. Mother and Father would fight, but it would all turn out okay.

"Everything will be okay. Everything will be okay." I murmured under my breath over and over, rocking back and forth.

But this time, I was wrong.

***

Mother shook me gently,
"Come on darling, time to get up. It's the big move today, remember sweetheart?" I nodded blearily and rubbed my eyes, sitting up.

"I hate moving day." I grumbled, "so many boxes." Mother nodded gravely,

"I know Kernyn honey, I know."

As I padded slowly down the stairs, the touch of the ice cold metal brought the events of the previous night back to the surface of my memory.

"Mommy, where's Papa?" I asked as we entered the kitchen.

"Out." She said shortly, harshly almost. She caught herself and looked ashamed. "Now hon, what would you like for breakfast?" She beamed, back to her usual, calming tone. Slightly shocked by this sudden outburst, I simply shrugged.

Mother turned her back to me and after not long she placed a plate of colourful berries in front of me. I didn't recognise them, but Mother always gave me nice food, so I didn't complain.

"Finished!" I grinned proudly, last nights events and Mother snapping at me temporarily out of my mind.

"Good girl, Kernyn. Now go on upstairs and get ready. We leave in twenty minutes."

I bounded up the stairs.

Once in my room, I slipped off my nightgown and looked at my chair where my usual outfit had been lain out. I slipped the long white dress over my head, the silky material felt soothing against my skin. I reached for my coloured sash and tied it around my waist like Mother had shown me last week.

I wondered where we would go this time
***

I screamed. I kicked. I yelled. I sobbed. I resisted with all my strength. I was not going on that ship. No way. Not without Father.

Mother was crying too. Salty streaks were visible against her pale complexion as she dragged me closer and closer towards the ship. Further and further away from my Father.

I could see him, not clearly enough to see if he too was crying, but clearly enough to see his weak, dismal wave as we boarded the aircraft.

Lost in my thoughts about father, I glanced down to notice my feet on smooth metal. I shrieked at the top of my lungs, reaching my short, chubby arms out towards the already closing door.

Psssshhh.

The door closed with a final click.

I went limp.

No use fighting now.

It was over.

I cried silently into my mothers arms. The others were beginning to look, but not looks of judgement. Looks of sympathy. I didn't want sympathy.

Big girls don't cry, I told myself once more. I wrestled my way out of mothers embrace and wiped my eyes. I stomped over to an empty seat and sat myself down, strapping on my seatbelt.

I made a two promises to myself right then and there.

I promised never to let myself cry in front of others, not to show them any weakness. I was strong.  And, I swore that if we ever found that princess, I would have my revenge. She had taken my father, taken my family. She would pay.