My first memory is of my mother. Screaming at me, at the top of her lungs.
“Monster!” My mother had screeched, her eyes bugging out as she pointed at me. “Leave us be!”
My father held her tight even as she struggled against him. She was hitting him, pounding her fists against his chest. He grabbed hold of her small hands, trying to subdue her. It seemed like forever, but finally, she melted against him, bawling as she sunk to the floor.
I was curled in on myself, my face stinging from the force of her blows. When my father finally calmed my mother down, he reached for me. I stayed frozen, but he waited patiently, until I unfurled myself and fell into my father’s arms, big blobs of tears rolling down my face.
“I’m a monster,” I whispered, through my tears.
My father gave me a surprised look. “What do you mean?” He pushed my sweaty hair back from my face, and then raised a finger, motioning me to wait. He got up, walking towards a cupboard where he picked up a hand mirror. When he sat back beside me, he raised the mirror to face me. I turned away, not wanting to see but he held me gently, prodding me to look back at my reflection.
I glanced at my reflection, warily. I wanted to pull away, but my father kept me in place.
Silver eyes.
“Do you see, Alaya?”
I did not want to see.
“You have the prettiest eyes out of all the little girls in town.”
I lifted my hands to the touch the raised grooves that marred the sides of my face.
“And the most interesting features! I’d say, my daughter is the most beautiful girl in the whole Kingdom.”
I smiled at my reflection, hesitantly. But then, from the corner of the house, my mother screamed, “That thing is not my child!!”
She kept screaming, but I did not stay to hear more. I pushed the mirror out of my father’s hands, hearing it crash into pieces on the floor. I twisted out of my father’s arms, and I was up and running. Running as far as I could, as far as my little legs could take me. If I could run away from myself, I would.
Throughout my life, I cultivated quite a list of enemies. But at that very moment, at six years of age, the only person on that list was myself.
YOU ARE READING
The Sanctuary
FantasyA girl with a haunted past. Her kind is forbidden, so she lives underground with her people, awaiting her revenge. But falling for an enemy soldier wasn't part of the plan. Lines begin to blur; good vs. evil, enemy vs. foe. All this, as a war begins...
