Schizoid

Chapter 3

My eyes open, and I stare at a threadbare, wooden ceiling. The blankets around me are wool and scratching my skin. I sit upright, then remember that my name is Ellisa Reed, I live in a family of five, soon to be six. I am a peasant girl, and I'm about to be late to school.

My bed is by the splintering wall, my mother is feeding my younger brother Kio and my older sister Ingrid, I don't remember these people, but I do. It's very confusing. I step out of my large bed, clearly shared with my siblings, and I find I am wearing simple brown trousers and an equally brown, sleeved shirt. My skin is tinted pink from long days in the sun, and my hands calloused from practicing fighting with a sword, pretending to battle Armand, the neighbor boy with dark skin and short hair, that twists towards his scalp.

I stalk across the small, single room, hut almost. The floor is wood, scattered with dirt, pebbles, food, and other things no one wants on their floor. The mirror from the beginning still stands on the wall directly right from the door.

I put on my many layers of skirts mechanically, not quite understanding the process myself, but I ended up getting dressed anyway. My mothered offered me some grits, which I denied, and grabbed my school satchel and my sword and sheath.

By the door hangs my red hood. I smile, remembering when I swiped it for my moth-ridden grey cloak. My first act as a thief. Armand teased me, saying I looked like the character from the tale his mother would tell us. He would pull at my hair and sing abound him being a big, bad wolf. Now that I've grown into my hood, I've also grown into my bow, so the teasing has lessened, but will never cease. I never want them to cease.

I step out into the cold air, pulling the hood over my head. Armand is waiting to the right of the door, holding the cinnamon sweet rolls I've loved since his mother began serving them at the tavern. He grinned his toothy grin, towering over me, though he hasn't been through his growth spurt yet, he is a head taller.

He reaches to pull my hair, but I duck and run down the dirt path from our familiar cluster of shacks, running from the familiar boy, with the familiar grin, to our familiar classes, to my familiar friends. I feel more at home then I can remember. My hood is yanked of my head and two arms the color of dandelion coffee wrap around me. I trip trying to escape, but he holds me still. I sigh and lean against him.

"Elle where were you? You missed Maidy Bryfar falling on her ass, and cursing the class!" He chuckles at the memory, and I smile. Maidy Bryfar is a stiff, pinched-faced Nord who always seems rushed. As I swipe a roll from him I tease,

"I was ill, by the Nines, can't you get through a day without me?"

He pinches my arm replying,

" I can, but Ah-Ra can't, he kept muttering about visiting you."

I smirk, and pull from his grasp.

We continue through the districts, and the houses grow larger, the roads paved, until we reach our schoolhouse/training area. War has been a common factor to our futures, so we have been trained to be soldiers, and the strongest of us will be. My blade skill is weak, and due to my small figure, and light weight, I'm awful at hand to hand. But I've found my calling in scouting and archery.

My goal to out shoot my teacher is distant but possible. As we enter the room of everyone from bawling children to studious elders. Ah-Ra shouts and waves us over to a group of friendly faces, Methaldra, Suzika, Misone, and Richo. Armand joins Misone and Richo, punching each other and being loud.

Methaldra asks how I am, Suzika is quiet.

"Are you ok?" I mumble when passing her. She shakes her head to gesture she is not.

"What's wrong?"

Methaldra pipes up, her face solemn, "Her father was arrested, but released."

I stop, feeling frozen, "What did he give in exchange?