Halves

I. Persephone

"Kore?"

I sigh. Mother sounds bothered.

"Kore!"

I don't want a scolding. I just want to stay right where I am, on the branch of the pomegranate tree. The sturdy trunk cradles my spine just right and the leaves are whispering their secrets in my ears. My fingertips and lips are sticky with scarlet juice, and I am more than content to spend the remainder of the afternoon here.

"Kore, where are you?!!"

"In the tree," I finally mutter, swinging my legs over the side of the rough branch. I hear fabric rip as my chiton catches on the bark, but I don't care. A rebellious part of me almost wants to see her get upset by it, though I quickly banish the ungrateful thought. She is my mother. I shouldn't be disrespectful.

Mother appears beneath me, staring upwards with her hands on her hips. Her eyes are hard as petrified wood, and her brows set low. I still have a difficult time believing this is the woman who brought me into the world. Everything about her is colored warm and earthy, from her chestnut hair to her caramel complexion. She looks nothing like me.

"Kore. You should come down now. The sun will be setting soon."

I stare right back. "I KNOW the sun is setting soon. Why can't I stay up here?"

"You know it wouldn't be safe for you, my Darling." She's not budging. "Come down now."

I let myself slide down with a dramatic groan, feeling a spike of satisfaction as I hear my chiton tear some more. There are leaves in my hair and dirt on my face. The predictable doctoring of my appearance begins almost before my feet hit the earth.

"What's happened to you?!" Mother starts trying to scrub a smudge off my cheek with her thumb.

"I was living." I wrench myself away. "You know, actually enjoying this beautiful weather and reacquainting myself with the land. Like you said I should."

She looks affronted. "You don't have to do it in such a...messy way, my Kore."

"That's not my name."

"It is what I have always called you." Mother begins to card through my tangled hair, plucking out leaves and tossing them aside.

I clutch at them as they flutter away, but they are gone too fast. "Please don't braid my hair."

"And why shouldn't I?" She's doing it anyway, regardless of my request. It would almost be better if she hadn't heard me at all. Why does she have to ignore me like this?

I pull further out of her reach, heedless of the strands that are tugged out with my movement. "If you won't let me wear my hair up like you, at least allow me to wear it down? Braids make me feel like a child!"

Her face is serene, though the annoyance is still there, bubbling just under the surface like a hidden spring. "Because you are a child."

Why do I even try? I love her, but she is completely blind. "Mother! My name is Persephone, and I am a woman! Not a little girl anymore."

Mother heaves a sigh of her own, her proud shoulders slumping. "I am just trying to protect you and keep you innocent, my Sweet. Do not fault me for that."

It's not an apology. I am still irritated. But I wrap my arms around her anyway, realizing it's pointless to argue with her longer.

She returns my embrace with stifling power, and the trapped feeling that has been tightening my chest a little more with each year that goes by becomes momentarily overwhelming. I can barely breathe.