Heavy is the Head that Wears the Crown

A New Life

6 years later...

Amity noticed the little things.

She noticed how her hair was different. Though it was brown like her fathers, it had more of a red orange hue to it rather than his chestnut color. Or how her eyes were just a shade too different to be the same as her brother and sister. Or how her skin was just a tad bit paler than the rest of her family. Not to mention her hair was just so darn thick that she had to get an undercut just to get it under control.

To the others, those flaws were either overlooked or went unnoticed. They were either too invested in themselves or just didn't care enough.

But Amity did. She cared so much.

Maybe it were these flaws that made her parents hold her from a distance. The reason they kept her at arm's length compared to her siblings. Her parents adored Ed and Em... why was she any different? Wasn't she their daughter too?

It hurt. It hurt a lot. It hurt to see Ed and Em get praised and affectionate smiles while she was scolded for doing the same. It hurt to be constantly one place below them. It just hurt.

She pretended not to hear the rumours. She pretended she didn't hear the way people asked her parents whether she was adopted or not. She pretended not to care when her "friends" asked her questions.

"Are you adopted?" Skara asked at their play date.

"No? Why?"

Skara had shrugged and said "You just don't look like them." She said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world. That night, she had crawled into her bed and cried.

Amity looked out of her window and gazed at the sun. She smiled. She liked the sun. It was warm, bright and sunny. The complete opposite of her home. It made her smile and it kept the dark away. The sun was probably the prettiest thing Amity had seen.

Just because she loved the sun did not mean she hated the night.

The night was weird. It was filled with weirdly familiar dreams. Almost like she had seen them before. In her dreams, she was a princess, and she was loved by a pale and raven haired woman. When she told her mother of them, she scolded her.

"What? Am I not a good enough mother for you? Control your thoughts Amity! You are a Blight! Act like one!" her mother had said. Amity never spoke of the dreams again.

The thing about dreams is that you have very little control over them. So it wasn't like she could order the dreams to stop (and trust me she's tried that). Yet, she couldn't help but feel happy that they stayed.

She wondered if other children had such vivid dreams like her. When she had asked Ed am Em, they simply shrugged. "Sometimes I have dreams about when I was 3 or 4. Except you aren't there. That's why they're so boring." They then proceeded to torment her about her mittens. And let's just say that it was one of the only nicknames of theirs that actually stayed.

That night, she dreamt of the weird lady again.

"Amity dearest, what are you doing?" she asked her. Tilting her head to the side to emphasize her point. She was dressed in fine lavender silk. She had her hair down, which was so long they reached past her knees. The gown she wore had puffy sleeves that she could just press her face into. The skirt reached the floor and wasn't particularly fluffy, but still had some sort of volume to it. Which was covered in gold threaded embroidery and Amity wanted to trace them with her fingers.

Amity giggled and dove into the sea of sunflowers. Starting a game of hide and seek with the woman. She followed the sun, just as the sunflowers did.