“Mae! Get back here.” I playfully shout at my sister. Her excited giggles reach my ears and I smile wider. “I’m gonna get you!” She just runs faster, if that’s even possible. My legs are getting tired and I start to slow. “Okay, Okay, I give up!” I shout to the retreating figure, For being so small she sure can run fast.
Mae comes running back to me with a wide grin, not even having broken a sweat. I shake my head and scoop her up, spinning us around. The sweet sound of her laughter fills my ears and lightens my soul. She truly is the light of my life. Flopping onto the frozen ground she lays in my arms and sighs contentedly. I close my eyes enjoying the peaceful moment.
“Blakely, Mae, supper’s ready!” Mae’s head pops up at our mother’s statement and she jumps up running in the direction of our family’s house. Shaking my head, I smile at my 10-year-old sister’s excitement. I also get up but instead of running home I leisurely walk home enjoying the cool air. Snowflakes start to drift down around me, and the breeze picks up a bit. Increasing my pace, I look across the field to Dulcina’s cabin, just catching her father hurrying in and closing the door harshly.
I pause and continue to look at their cabin, fighting the urge to go over and bringing her with me home. Forcing myself to continue home my thoughts continue to drift to Dulcina and her father.
I hum as the stew heats up on the wood stove. The door slams open and the frigid air creeps inside. Her father stomps inside, his foul mood still lingering. He moved past her not giving her a glance and into his small bedroom at the back of their small cabin. I quit humming not wanting to anger him. Sighing quietly, I look back into the pot and take it off of the stove. Moving over to the counter I grab a ladle and dip it into the pot. I look towards Father’s room debating going over to tell him that supper is ready, but I decide not to.
I look outside to the small snowflakes drifting down calmly, not in a hurry I move toward the door and slip outside after donning my cape. My feet are heavy in the snow and jack frost kisses my face. The snowflakes are peaceful to watch as I tread to my aged willow. I close my eyes and enjoy the serene aura. Breathing deeply and lifting my head I started to sing the song of the ancients. It was a song my grandmother taught me before she passed. It is a song of love and heartbreak, of life and death, of mourning and moving on. Some of the villagers believed it was a song of the devil and punished anyone who was heard singing it.
I was cut off suddenly when my arm was grabbed roughly. I cried out and tried to pull away.
“How dare you let that song come out of your mouth!” My father stands in front of me with a furious expression. “I should bring you to the elders and let them deal with you.” I know this is not an empty threat and if he ever caught me doing it again that he would follow through.
“I’m sorry, it will not happen again sir.” My voice quavers at the end but I keep my emotions at bay.
“It better not.” His voice is calm. Too calm. He shoves me inside the cabin and locks the door. He stalks toward me and I back away. My breathing quickens, and I start to tremble. Sometimes knowing what is going to happen is worse than being ignorant.