Avery's father was furious. She tried to convince him that it wouldn't happen again, but he wanted no part in it.
By suppertime, the whole family knew what she had done earlier that day. She could feel their judgmental gaze beating down on her like intense rays of sun. Avery felt embarrassed and ashamed.
That evening, silence took the place of conversation, crackling from the fire took the place of contentment, and foreignness took it's place in Avery's heart.
Not much was said that night, and not much needed to be said.
Avery felt like a disappointment. A disappointment to her parents, a disappointment to her family, and most of all, a disappointment to herself.
The next morning as Avery went outside to do her tedious chores, she noticed a wooden fence between her section of the field and the forest.
"Now," her father said with arms crossed, "Let that be a reminder to never go into the forest. Is that clear?"
Avery gave a barely visible nod, which was her tendency to do when she was upset.
The whole afternoon, Avery worked in the fields, halfheartedly. She didn't know how things would ever go back to normal. Not that she liked things as they used to be, but anything was better than what she felt now.
She had this desire...
She wanted to feel something other than shame. She hated feeling raw and bare.
She wanted something to keep from feeling exposed. Something that could cover up the truth.
Something like a lie.
YOU ARE READING
Senseless
FantasyIn another world of another time, there were two neighboring homesteads. These households were not exactly neighbors, but the closest they'd ever had to it. For you see, they lived a fair distance from civilization as a result of their differences...
