As a little girl I suppose i always did hold a glimmer wonder in my eyes as well as madness despite my pain.
I skipped merrily up the cobblestone path towards the edge of town where my "home" and family resided. Oliver had ran ahead of me performing a series of little spins and cartwheels on the way.
We weren't normal as the other townsfolk were in the enchanted forest, they called us the mad offspring of a drunken fool and a lost beauty. The drunken fool was our father, true to his name and crueler than rumors, an the beauty be our mother. I never understood why she stayed with father and when i asked she responded that she loved him and couldn't bear to be without him. Ollie and I however, loathed him for hurting us all so.
"Pay attention half pint fore your thoughts swallow ye whole" crowed Ollie from ahead.
I snapped out of my trance, "Reckon father danced with gale this mornin?" (Danced with gale was code for is father befuddled by ale.)
Ollie's toothy grin was replaced by a sarcastic skepticism, "hmm...'magine he's perfected each step 'fore we left this mornin." How he was always so cheery begets me but I share a slightly duller smile and jog to catch up.
The forest round the village was so beautiful compared to the trees round our cottage with shattered bottles round them.
Mama's flowers were gone and covered by the thick white blanket that nature feared, including our own breath shakily peeking out in puffs in the chance the cold had melted off to rest. I sighed and my breath peeked out after hiding for what seemed most of the walk home as I stared off and Oliver rambled. The realization struck me cross the face in the midst of the thick line of snow-covered pine trees. We neared the bridge cross the creek and after that came the path home. We both slowed our pace as we neared it looking to each other for strength before crossing the rickety oak wood bridge. The ice beneath us seemed to rumble
I didn't even attempt a smile at my elder brother that time, instead or bore a grim expression colliding with fear.
He matched my expression for a moment's notice but buried it with his hopeful eyes. A snowflake landed on his nose and another on the brim of his cap.
"Littler John needs us sister"with the water beneath as it too supported us as we continued.
As we walked I slipped on a patch of ice over a puddle and Oliver seemed to notice this from the corner of his eye.
"Almost there little sister-" he shouted and spun to face me, only to be met by my rage.
I couldn't hold my tongue. My breath once more peeked out.
"Then let's take him and run Ollie!" I shouted at him.
The forest seemed to halt all except the nearby birds.
Silence. Was he considering it? More silence... I stared at my crazy older brother with hope. He and I knew we had to get out, but the only thing stopping us was mama and little John.
"If mama doesn't want to come," I continued. "We'll just take Johnny and we'll all be safe!"
Yellow,gray,orange,red, his eyes changed color as if switched by every twitch of his fist I noted hanging near his hip.
Hope, fear, curiosity, anger, I knew every shade and hue of my brother's emotions and though light this time and red never ended well.
"We cannot leave mother, have you lost your mind.. your brain.. your noggin.. your wits.. your.. your.." he rattled.
"Oliver!" I cried placing my fragile hands on each side, fingers near the now green eyes.
Green, the color of Ollie's madness I noted. Years of abuse will cause scarred valleys for the madness to gush through even to an 11 year old boy. I often pondered how it never gushed in my 7 year old mind but I knew it flowed in valleys just as deep. He had fits like this often when the valley boils over past his lids and his mind squirms and loses it's train.
He regained his composure still wearing his everyday green pools and held me and apologized furiously. Both of his feared for our futures me, him, Johnny and mama were all held tight by a drunken fool. We truly did try to love him as well as get him to love us in return by doing as asked but it was never enough... The fear we felt amidst that snowy path was nothing compared to what lie ahead, just a small flinch honestly as father belted from the cottage. With my hands still cupping his face i flinched and withdrew them only to grab his hand and squeeze as we cautiously walked towards our father.
"Get in this house now you worthless little shits!"
The cottage was quaint despite it's residents inside with a door frame surrounded by carved flowers that mother made last year. I remember watching her above me a warm smile gracing her face as she sliced through the wood with grace even when she struggled. It was springtime so her flowers were in full bloom, lilies, tulips, azaleas, begonias, a mix or vibrant colors looked as beautiful as they smelled. That day according to Ollie was a day to celebrate.. my merry little unbirthday he said...
In reality, a frightened and bloody ,yet beautiful, mother stood behind a towering and slurred man with a bottle of whiskey in hand and his other harshly gripping his worn leather belt we knew all too well...
The first thing I saw was a red flash and then i felt it like a kick in the gut. Oh wait it was.. I hazily watch the boot re position between my eyes. I prepared myself for the blow.. nothing.. more nothing. Just nothing.