It was a a hot summer day in the middle of January, and the clocks were striking twelve when my father asked me to ride into town and get him some meat for his sandwich. This was strange because my father had died four months ago. I looked right at him and said "Father, you're dead. You have no need to eat." My father looked at me, grumbled, and walked away.
You may be wondering 'Well how did he look? What do you mean he refuses to accept that fact?' Well, the truth is that i've always had a knack for seeing those who have passed on. When I was little, I was simply terrified by the whole thing, but as I grew I got more usd to it.
My name is Oddessa Theressa Bouquetman the Third, but everyone calls me Odd. I have unruly strawberry-blonde hair, and a faceful of freckles which my brother Clove describes as "Simply spotteriffic." Clove is always making up words like that.
Clove is a year older than me. Father always said when I was born, I came out kicking and screaming, but when Clove was born, he looked right at father and winked.
I think about these things as I walk outside and into the large expanse of hill on which our house is perched. At the bottom of the hill, sitting on the fence that separates out world from the large forest in which Fae are supposed to live, sits Clove. I lay down and roooll down the hill, jumping up at the bottom and looking at my now-only-feet-away brother. His back is turned to me, and he facing the forest...on the wrong side of the fence.
"Clove!" He looks over his shoulder at me and grins, his cheerful face shining brighter than the sun itself. "Hey Odd!" "Clove, what are you doing on that side of the fence?!" I walk over and put a hand on his shoulder. He giggles under my touch. "Looking at the forest." "You're not allowed over the fence, Clove." I remind him for the umpteenth time. "Awww..." He sounds like a scolded child as he swings his body off the fence to face me. "C'mon. We need to get back. They'll be here soon." I remind him. Clove looks longingly one last time at the forest, then nods. "Alright....Race you!" He says, all disappointment flitting away with the new thought of a game. I grin, and take off, calling behind me "Deal!"
YOU ARE READING
Searching for the stolen one (ON HOLD)
FantasyOddessa Theressa Bouquetman the Third-called Odd by all who know her- lives an pretty strange life. Her father refuses to accept the fact that he's dead, and her brother is a bit off his rocker. She's always wanted to get away from her little villag...
