The Machine
~Chapter One~
Summer, the year 3000.
How is fate determined from one person to another? Are you chosen for your role in life? Or is it just as we call it...fate?
I didn't know what to think as I watched the years slip by and my daughter and son grow up. They were twins, a bad sign, a sign that evil had touched them even before they were born.
At least no one could tell they were twins unless told beforehand. My little girl, Ann, was as dark as a raven, delicate as a moon flower, and as fierce as summer hurricane. My son, Erron, however was pale, freckled and had thick, straight red hair. He was wry and tall for his age-forever into mischief like a child of the fey.
My revere was cut short when Ann tugged on my arm, I looked down into her intense eyes, the only feature she shared with her brother.
"Ma, are you alright? You're as pale as the bread dough."
Smiling, I stroked her thick, dark hair, "it's the change in weather is all, I'm a bit out of sorts."
She nodded, accepting this. I handed her a basket full of bread and she took it, slipping on her boots. Outside, Erron leaned against the horse they would ride double and yawned. Ann hopped up with grace in front, and Erron scrambled up behind her, balancing the basket between them. The horse sighed, and picked up a n easy trot. They were headed to visit their grandmother who lived about three miles away. She loved when they came, so I sent them often.
I trembled and fought, but the tears slid down my face defiantly. Sinking to the floor I shuddered, wondering how long their happy life could last before I would be forced to tell them the truth.
The machines were everywhere. In every house, and every workplace. At Grandmother's we found she had four now.
The two fashioned like large metal spiders, clicking and whirring as they picked crumbs and dirt off of the floor, their electric green eyes glowing. Another sat in the sink, rounded and porous, reminding me of a toad when it burped bubbles and water onto the dirty plates and cups. It's little arms came out with tiny brushes to scrub away the messes.
The last was Grandmother's caretaker. It was vaguely humanoid, but it scared me to the high heavens. Hundreds of gears spun at it's joint's and when it looked at me I got the feeling it knew what I was thinking about-and it didn't like it.
I hated the machines, they made my skin prickle and my head throb, though I have no idea why. Ann on the other hand doesn't seem to have any problem with them. But it's hard to tell her opinion on anything really, which is weird coming from her twin, you'd think after being stuck with her for nine years that I would understand her better...but I don't.
She turned to look at me, her eyes sparkling. Okay, it's bad enough that's she's a mystery to me, but it's down right annoying that she's got me completely figured out.
Her lips twitched as she stuffed a piece of bread into her mouth as if to say "ha!" and turned back to Grandmother, who was telling us we must do more to help our poor mother who is forever in a fragile state of mind. Everyone blames our mother's health on us but Grandmother, she doesn't think twins are a curse, but a gift rather, one to be treasured and proud of.
I have a bad feeling Ann and I are going to find out weather that is true or not.