"You will be able to talk again only if you have an extreme wave of cheer as big as the shock you've gotten," that was what doctors told me, which was hard to find at our district. It was even called Rain, I called it 'My Desperate Place' ; I could see nothing of it but a permanent prison.
I was obsessed with sounds and voices. I meditated a lot and read about conversation etiquette; to be ready ,if someday, I got my voice back. Well, I'm grateful I didn't get deaf too.
I still find myself special. At least, I've still gotten my grandma's beautiful memories and I look like Queen Ginger Ruby. I've gotten outer beauty and hopefully inner peace.
I was going straight ahead to our backyard, it was not actually a yard ; only consisted of dead trees, a swing for my two sisters, the twin Julia and Joana, Grandma Emma's grave and the three goats, Holy, Lisa and Fiona, which we took milk from and mum made cheese with; to sell to the neighbourhood.
I've sat on the swing and remembered what grandma told me one day about the royal family, hearing her voice with my heart.
It was named Ruby after the inherited crimson red ruby in the family. They all had the same hair colour. Crimson red hair was only for the royal family, yet, unexpectedly for me too.
None of my folks was close to a redhead, nor any of our relatives. Grandma always believed that it had something unique, she told me once : "I know you're going to be the brightest princess of all times." But my parents never cared and thought it had no importance.
After all, its a lucky accident that makes me feel special.
To be continued...
Sara Khalil Doleh
YOU ARE READING
Crimson Ruby
General FictionSharing with my readers the first chapters of my already published first novel, Crimson Ruby. It was classically written in a French royal secret fantasy, by the 15-year-old me. If it is literarily catchy to you, stay tuned for my other novels as we...
