Guard and Scythe

Haunting Memories

I dedicate this chapter to one of my most awesomical besties. (We forgot the rock ;D )

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Momma dressed me in warm clothes, throwing my long flannel dress right over my nightgown. It was early in the morning; even the sun hadn't awakened yet. Through the walls of our little house, which Momma always had called a shack, I could hear leaves and branches brushing gently across the outer wooden walls.

"Momma, what are you doing?" I asked sleepily rubbing my eyes with my fists. Momma almost never dressed me any longer. I was five years old now, and Momma said I was a big girl now and had to dress myself.

"Hush my little Trisnae, we need to be more silent than mice," she said giving my tummy a little tickle. Momma smiled, but her eyes were full of worry. She ran her fingers through my long black curls lovingly, holding me with her eyes with reverence and love.

"Why is Momma sad?" I asked her running my fingers over the little V that formed between her eyes.

Momma pulled me into a gentle embrace, squeezing all her love into the hug for me. "Not now Trisnae, just let Momma get you ready."

I nodded earnestly. I did not want to make Momma sad. Papa already made Momma sad too.

"Is Papa getting ready too?" I ask Momma. Her hands stuttered over the buttons of my long brown coat. Her eyes brimmed with tears.

"No Trisnae. Papa isn't coming," she said. I was too afraid to ask her why.

Momma finished getting me dressed and pulled me out of bed. She took my hand and rushed downstairs on our tippy toes, softer than mice; just like Momma had said to.

I clung to Momma's skirts as she went through the kitchen throwing various foods and items into a giant bag.

"Momma, we forgot to make the beds!" I whisper to her turning to go back upstairs again. Momma hated it when I left my bed messy.

Momma grabbed my wrist in a panic. "No! Leave the beds! It's fine Trisnae, for today."

I turn back around slowly. My tummy felt like little frogs were jumping around in it, like they do by the ponds behind the yard. But it was winter now, and all the frogs were sleeping.

"Momma, I'm scared," I saw, my face twisting up to prevent the fat teardrops from falling down my cheeks.

Momma shushed me gently, pulling me close to her again. "It's alright my little Trisnae. There's nothing for you to be afraid of," she said assuringly and I felt comfoted to here her promise.

"Are you scared of Papa?" I ask her, while she holds me. Momma stiffens, drawing in a sharp breath. I don't dare look up at her expression.

"Yes Trisnae, he does. That's why you and I are leaving," she says letting go of me and finishes up her packing. I ask her if I can bring my tea cup but Momma says "No."

Momma slings the sack over her shoulder and takes my hand. We slips out the door silently and onto the gravel roads.

We walked away; Momma didn't even look back. But I did. I took a look back at our little house, sitting next to the gravel road, shaded by a canopy of trees and Momma's fairy garden that circled the house. The litle red and white house seemed so empty now, even though Papa would still be sleeping in his bed.

Momma kept pulling me to walk faster. I almost had to run to keep up with her long strides.

That's when we heard a roar from the little red and white house. The roar had scared away the last of nighttime as the sun began to rise into the sky.