It's Always the Rain (Discontinued)

Chapter One: Outcast of Village Dahtomi

She had never wronged in her life. Never once. She had no fear of a punishment. My mother is not a bad person. Not in the slightest. She was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. My mother is wonderful. In fact, she was well respected by the people of Dahtomi, loved and admired. She sings to the babies and heals the great warriors wounds. She is strong spirited and a fast thinker, cool under pressure. But, by no means is she prefect, she is not prefect. Not by far. Just one thought, just one action changed the village's view of her forever. Not for what happened, but, more or less the outcome.
  The bells rang. I woke with a start. I rise from my colorful mat, sleep stained to my eyes. I yawn and stretch, trying to become alive to the world once more. The bells. Oh, the bells. Why today? I glance around our small hut, seeing the usual home items. I rub away the sleep and yawn once more. My large ears flutter to the soft sound of footsteps. My nerves calm upon seeing my mother come in with a brown jar. I watch her go to the window as the bell chime again. Her long, silky, inky black hair wave from her waist as if to say a small "hi". Well, jambo to you as well. Her favorite dress of white cotton, a crop that grows well here, clothing her thin body. "It is time, mwanangu! Get ready!" Has she forgotten? Anyway, her beautiful golden eyes fly to mine. Hers filled with shining glee, mine with clouded fear. What today is to me is not important right now. I don't need to think about. No, today is the day. Today, Lord why today, all the thirteen year old boys go with the strongest man in the village to start the training that will last until we are eighteen. We shall learn to hunt and fish, as well as fighting and battle motivates to protect our future families and our homes. I am scared. I am not like the other boys of Dahtomi. You see, my father is no man of the village, but a rouge that forced himself upon my sweet mother when she went to fetch some water from the river. She had made the mistake of going off on her own. The rouge that is my father was killed on sight by some hunters coming back from a hunt and found him on my mother. She carried the child of a rouge. Me. That was treason. I am not full blooded. My hair and eye show this clearly. Rouge are known for their eyes since they mate with their brothers and sisters, blue eyes. Their hair like the happy clouds in the sky. While my left eye shows that I am the son of a villager, my right is the purest of blue, showing I am the son of a rouge. My village is known for long, beautiful, black hair, mine is white. I am also small like a rouge. Haft the size of other boys. I am the laughing stock and so is my mother. Nayfina Quinn, my mother is a noble soul, she does not deceive this kind of treatment, I, on the other hand, do, since I am cause. But, aside that, as frightened as I am, I listen to mother wishes and get up for a breakfast of milk, fresh from the heifers. Mm. "Zero, fear is your face, mwanangu. Do tell me your worry" Mother spoke as she poured the milk from her jar into a small bowl for me. Even my name means nothing at all. I shake as I reach for the bowl. "Nothing Mother. I am fine. Hakuna Waiswasi. Really!" My voice shook like my body. I spoke so quietly, like I always do, just a whisper, almost to low to hear. But, I know mother is used to this, used to me being different. Her plump lips fall to a frown, she knows I am lying to her, but questions me no more. I smile at her, trying to make her grin as well, Mother is much to beautiful to frown. The bells ring once more, meaning that I must take my leave now. I drank my breakfast so quickly that I know I will have hiccups later and bow in respect of her. As I turn to leave though, to become part of the growing group of boys outside, including bullies, Mother snatches my hand, pulling me close to her chest, her arms in casing me but not hurting me as I know mother is strong enough to do so. "I love you so much, Zero. Please stay safe and out of trouble for mommy. Show them what you can do, not what think you can do. Be careful. Please." I listen closely to her plea, Mother's voice has always been a dead give away that she was close to tears, how she sounds all chocked up and all. I gladly hug her back, not really ready to leave the shelter of home either, even if I will return tonight, last tonight. I take in her familiar scent, fruits and wheat, God I don't want to go! But, alas, "I will, Mother, I will. I love you more" She shakes her head, smiling with tears flooded. The bells ring. I am scared