Chasing Stars

Chapter 1

Green. Green eyes. Green as the new forest in spring. Green as an emerald. Green as the grass. They sparkled like the stars above. His eyes, a mysterious forest. The green dark and deep, with crystal shards like stars. But whose were they? And would I ever encounter eyes as green as them?

The presence of these forested eyes had become a guest of mine, beyond the age of 8. Outlandish, it almost seemed - Alienated: not a colour of such rawness, had stumbled before me afore. It bestowed upon me many a dreams, captivating my heart into a craving of their own peace every moon granted night. But not only were they a piece of handsomeness, they were my only distraction, my only tranquilliser from the gruesome reality I inhibited: a past, an exhausting past haunting me into an open hole of protection. A burned past. A fire so grim, so grotesque, 'twill never hesitate to burn you internally by the mention of it. Even if you spoke of it to the people who were present at the mystical event. It would consume first your crawling skin, then slowly, your insignificant strength, and lastly your cursed heart.

More, I cannot remember about my childhood. Every simple, every important piece of my far fetched memory, had been wiped away from me, absconding myself with non, but the emptiness of a blackened chapter, I was privileged to adopt as my childhood.

And until this very day of today, I had gathered little to no clues to reason the cause of the bewitched carnage of a fire that ceased our ancient village into an obliteration of nothing. Nothing could ever return to its being, neither the foreign village, nor its survivors, who, mind you, lost more than just life and purpose that afternoon.

"Rosaleen, Ayleen!" Father's hoarse voice pierced through the walls of our house.

"Wake up!" He exclaimed once more.

Father and I never really got along with each other - in fact our bond was far from the usual 'daddy's little girl' sort. We were two polar opposites: We would always have arguments every now and then due to how diverse yet indifferent we were. We both had quite the stubborn, extroverted personality, but 'twas the misogyny and sexism which differentiated us. I needn't say more about him apart from that, do I? You get the picture. And, oh right, just before I forget, adding to his arrogance, there was also a hint of greed in his soup. The sort that preferred everything be done for him whilst his feet slept on the table. And whom exactly were his loyal subjects? My sister and I, which leads me onto how far he has pushed me astray. Every third year, the castle exchange their older maids with fresher ones who are more able, and yet to be wed. The unmarried so their minds would not be elsewhere, in terms of the worries a woman would have as a wife, a mother and a daughter.

Father being eager, offered his only two daughters to an imprisonment for 3 years, where the only occasions we will be freed are on religious ceremonies. So arguably fortunate for us, we may stay with our families for most of the Christmas month.

And that was the beginning of a new chapter in my life.

"Ayleen! Get up right now!" Shouted father.

My right eye unsealed, the left covered with the embrace of my comforting pillow. I rubbed sleep out of my eyes, as i fixed my gaze on Rosaleen, who had so readily put on her boring, grey and white uniform.

With her arched back to me, she put her coal black hair in a fishtail braid, her voice strictly speaking of importance:

"Would you rather have father coming down to our room and have a go at you? Get up Ayleen, hurry"

"I would not mind, for I have gotten used to it" I replied, as her reflection in the mirror animated her round face with her cheekbones lifting, as a grin deliberately formed across her lips.