And so she watched, wide eyed and slightly stunned. Upon entering the memory, she instantly recognized the cheerful whistling of her younger self strolling into the old barn.
She wore a frilly taffeta dress and her hair was neatly braided. Eight year old Addilyn moved without a second of hesitation or doubt. She was an example of raw innocence in its purest form.
Sucking in a shaky breath, she watched herself tend to the small calf lying amongst the straw.
"One day you'll be as big and strong as your mom. Now won't you Lily?" The little girl cooed softly at the calf as she fondly stroked its head. Suddenly a pair of familiar of Oxford clad feet came crashing into the barn.
"What's wrong Thomas?" A bewildered Addilyn asked.
"I don' know. But it's bad. Come on! Mama said you gotta come with me." The freckled boy cried urgently. He dragged his sister by the arm out of the barn and into the house.
Still confused, she followed Thomas down into the musty wine cellar. They sat for what seemed like forever in utter silence, until finally, the door opened again and in came her mother and father.
The light provided by the single candle was faint, but both children could see the worry both parents were attempting to hide.
In her father's hand was a tightly gripped a shotgun, locked and loaded. All at once there were footsteps pounding against the wooden floorboards above their heads.
The intruders searched with terrifying persistence. Whatever they wanted, they weren't going to leave without it.
Present day Addilyn knew it was coming. She knew exactly what was going to happen. And yet, she could feel her racing heart pause in fear when it happened.
The little girl huddled in the wine cellar suddenly realized her most beloved toy had been left upstairs.
In a moment of irrational decisions, she stood up. In the process her lovely taffeta dress got snagged on a nail, which inevitably pulled her backwards, producing a loud thump.
Everyone sat paralyzed in fear as the footsteps on the floor above them stopped.
The next few moments went by in a flash.
The cellar door was opened and in came a band of strangers. Father aimed his gun, but it was too late.
Gunshot. Thud. Gunshot. Thud. Gunshot. Thud.
A stream of tears began flowing from little Addilyn's eyes as she looked upon the lifeless faces of her family.
The murderers stared at her, and then they laughed with a malice that would forever haunt her memories.
And then they left. Addilyn remained unscathed, shaking her family in futile attempts to bring them back. She was all alone.
~
Addilyn sat in a huddled heap crying as the memory dissolved. There was a subtle shift in the atmosphere as she was dragged back to 1985, where her lesson with Brea had begun.
She still felt as alone and devoid of warmth as she had in that New York alleyway.
It was an endless ache that constantly griped her heart. It still hurt just as much as it had seven years ago.
Forcing herself up into a standing position, she wiped the tears off her face with the back of her hand.
She needed to go find Blaise.
YOU ARE READING
Through the Painting
Fantasía"Her eyes widen as she looks up. In front of her is a painting. It is a bold array of colors that shift and ebb like the ocean. None of the passerby around her seem aware of it. Carefully, Addilyn steps off the edge of the street and into the painti...
