Martyred Soul

Chapter 3

Throughout the next two days, memories and faces from my childhood flash through my mind.

            My mom cooking in the kitchen.                          

            My father kissing us goodbye before he leaves for work.

            Laney and I betting with cookies.

            Hertense handing me flowers that she picked on the way home from the market.

            My father teaching Caleb and me how to bow hunt.

            My mom singing us to sleep.

            Me brushing through Hertense’s hair.

            Laney daring me to eat a fish raw.

            Caleb wrapping his arms around me while I cry.

            There were nights when my father was late getting home from the mines where he worked. I always feared the worst and wouldn’t be able to stop myself from crying with worry and panic; many people died in the mines that my father worked in. Those nights—when I caved in—Caleb would sneak into my room, crawl into my bed, and hold me close, whispering nonsensical thing to me until I calmed down and fell asleep.

            Those memoirs of Caleb and me always resurface whenever I’m about to come back to reality.

            But then I remind myself that those are the arms of the hated Prince—not my beloved brother—that are circled around me. I curse his name and wonder why he’s still there before returning back to my own dream world.

            I have to admit to myself that I do actually prefer my dream world. I’m happy to relive those memories, even the one when I broke my leg, because Caleb was there to carry me home.

            But my loving of my dream world stops as it pulls a memory—one that I keep close at hand yet locked away—to the surface.

            It was seven years ago.

            I was twelve. Caleb was fourteen. Laney ten. Hertense eight.

            My mother was preparing what she would teach a neighbor girl, Macey, to cook because it was only her and her father at their house. Macey was my age so I would often hang out with her in the kitchen whenever she joined my mother.

            However, my mother sent me to the market to pick up more fresh vegetables for the soup she was preparing.

            On my way out the door, Hertense begged me to let her come too. I promised to take her the next time I went and gave her peck on the forehead.