(Updates every Saturday)
I never wanted to be part of a prophecy, shackled to fate, yet here I am, standing next to the king. I feel out of place, I miss my home, but I know there is only one way out of here, and that is forward.
~~~~~
Moi...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Stroking my hair, Lela whispers how much she loves me, letting me know that, although there had just been a huge fight in the house, everyone was family, and so we would always stick together, no matter what.
"I love you, Le," I whisper, half-asleep.
Kissing my head, she chuckles, continuing her soft speech, her hand slowly moving across my hair.
Timothy, Richard and I had been playing in the barn, as we usually did when we had free time, when we heard the twins, Dyane and Gina, playing their flutes. Since they didn't usually play, we decided to go and watch them, climbing the apple tree in front of the house and sitting on its strong branches, our sisters playing in front of us.
Everything was fine, until Riri decided he wanted to get down from the tree, and so he tried to climb down on his own. Trying to help him, I reached out, my hand holding onto his as Gina stood underneath, her arms outstretched upwards just in case.
"I'm slipping!" Richard shouted, panicked.
Stretching my arms even more, I try to grab his hand.
Crying out, I fell forwards, my arms outstretched as I stared at Dyane, who stared back at me in horror as I fell towards the ground. Gina, who was standing right underneath us, jumped between me and the grass, breaking my fall.
Shaking myself off, my legs wobbly from the scare, I climbed off my older sister, my arm outstretched towards her, "Thank you... Are you okay?" I asked, worriedly.
Groaning, she grabbed my hand, "I'm fine, Mo," once standing, she looked towards the flute case she had strapped against her waist, "Not sure my flute is though... Daddy's going to be so angry...".
Phillips, who was now holding onto Riri, reassured her, "We are all going to go home, and let dad know together. It's nobody's fault," he finished, staring at me with a nod.
Feeling guilty, I helped Richard down from the tree, saying sorry repeatedly, my cheeks red from shame due to my clumsiness as we walked towards our house.
"Don't worry Mo, it's not your fault," Gina whispered, grabbing my hand as we entered the stone building.
But I knew better. It was my fault she was now covered in bruises and dirt, and it was also my fault that her flute had broken. But instead of disagreeing, I just nodded, keeping my eyes glued to the ground, taking note of how worn the stone was, the smoothness in the center of the walkway contrasting with the rocky looking edges.
~~~~~
Staring out of the window, I feel guilty for the situation my family is living in right now.
After the development at Pyre Night, where all of the townsfolk had seen me glow for the first time, the event spread like wildfire. Everyone from nearby who believes in the prophecy of the late Queen is bringing me presents and asking for blessings.
At the beginning, I felt happy, special, but after a few days, the idea of having people follow me with gifts I didn't want and asking for blessings wasn't as fun as I had thought it would be. Then it became worse when men who wanted to father the chosen one started pestering me to be intimate with them.
"Moira! Come and help in the kitchen!" Gina called, her voice bouncing off the walls.
Standing up, "Coming!" I shout back, rushing down the stairs.
Entering the kitchen, I go straight to the pile of potatoes on the floor, grabbing a knife from the drawer next to the sink on my way there. Once I've sat on the stool, my hands move of their own accord, peeling the potatoes with precision.
"So, how have you been feeling?" Mummy asks, cutting the carrots alongside me.
Coughing, I croak, "Better,".
I wasn't really ill, but I didn't want to work outside the house, because that meant having people follow me around, chanting 'Mother of our Future' or offering to carry me around as I do my chores. The first time I heard them I accepted, but after being told off by Daddy, I didn't say anything to them again.
Clicking her tongue, Mummy puts down what she's doing and stands in front of me, "What's wrong?".
Shaking my head, I keep my eyes focused on the potatoes I'm peeling, letting my hair float around me, covering my face. Ever since my skin started to glow, my hair also began to hover in the air, but since I had been wearing a plait at the bonfire, we hadn't noticed until the next morning.
"Come on acorn, tell me,"
Gina and Dayne start talking, moving away from the kitchen as they argue what is sweeter; an apple or a pear.
Putting down the knife in my hand, I place it on the table, "It's just... I don't want people to be outside," I tell her, tears brimming my eyes, "I want it to be the same as before,".
"Oh, my poor, poor baby..." She whispers, pulling me into a hug, "It's just something new, but it's not bad. It's different, which is good!"
Holding tightly to her, I press my face against her shoulder, tears now streaming freely down my cheeks, "But you and Daddy don't like it... And so I don't like it," I explain, my voice muffled.
Mummy tries to pull away, but holding tighter, I hold onto my hands behind her back so she can't move away. Giving up, she whispers, stroking my hair, "We aren't used to it either, but it's not your fault! And people will stop coming soon, I promise,".
Shaking my head, I disagree.
"If I hadn't started glowing everything would be fine. It's my fault," I say sadly.
"Oh, no, my sweet acorn, that's not how it works," She whispers, her voice hurt as she kisses the crown of my head, rocking me from side to side until I stop shaking.
