Wake up.
Wake up.
Gabby, wake up.
Wake up.
I jolted awake with a start, chin whipping back and forth instinctively as I sought out the source of the voice. Nothing. The bunkroom was quiet, every cot quiet and still as the rest of the children continued to sleep. As I continued to search, though, I noticed the window, brightened by dawn. With a jolt, I promptly pushed myself up and slung my legs over the side of my cot. I'd overslept.
I padded down the stairs in my socks to the furnace room, a threadbare blanket tucked around my shoulders as I shivered in the autumn morning chill. The firewood was stacked beside the furnace, and I was forced to abandon my makeshift cloak for safety as I hauled open the cast-iron door and lugged up a heavy log to shove inside. Once the furnace was fueled, I took a large step back and slammed the door shut, turning on my heel to head to the kitchen and start breakfast.
Standing directly in front of me was a man.
His clothes were dirty and bloodstained, his teeth sharpened and yellowed like an animal's. His hair was unkempt, and his eyes were blank, shimmering an eerie white in the dim, furnace-lit room. He sneered at me, eyes narrowing into hungry slits.
I swiped at him, my hand passing harmlessly through his head as if there was nothing there. "Get out of my way, I'm busy."
"Tch." The man scoffed as I stepped around him, falling into step behind me as I retrieved my blanket and wrapped it around my shoulders again. "You're so ornery when you get up late."
My name is Gabriella Belladonna, and I can see ghosts.
The white-eyed man, Herobrine, followed me down the hall as I made my way to the kitchen, settling himself on a countertop and watching as I carefully lit the gas stove and began to heat up a pot of water. He couldn't do much to me- I'd learned that a long time ago. Other than cause the electrical system to short out and scare me silly while I was trying to clean, he was harmless.
"Oatmeal again?" Herobrine grumbled as I began to measure out the dried oats.
"Hush, you don't have to eat it," I scolded him. Herobrine merely bared his teeth at me and looked away. As the water heated, I lugged out a sack of potatoes and began to take them out, one by one, to wash them and cut them into slices. My uninvited audience stayed where he was, watching quietly with one leg swinging freely where he sat on an uninhabited bit of countertop.
It had been almost ten years since I first started seeing the spirits. At the age of five, the fact that I could see people that nobody else could wasn't really that alarming. Especially since the first ghosts that I had seen had been very friendly to me. Yes, I wasn't able to touch them like a normal person would, but to my five-year-old brain that wasn't really an issue. It wasn't until, at the age of seven, the Madam took little Gabby to a priest for an exorcism that I realized that it might be freaking everybody else out.
From then on I stayed quiet about my undead visitors, except when alone and out of sight. There were six of them in all, who had gradually found their way to me over the years and had stuck around ever since. Some of them said it was because they were bored, others told me that they were lonely. I could understand that. It must be hard having no company in the world other than the dead.
I carefully hoisted up the pot of water, pouring half of it into another container before replacing the pot on the stove and scraping in the potato slices. I could hear the first sounds from the floor above me, the earliest risers starting to stir in their beds. Evelyn, Henry, and Jean were always the first ones up. Jean always liked to help me with breakfast, while the other two just liked to sit and watch the sunrise.
"What were you up so late for last night?" Herobrine muttered. I cast him a glance over my shoulder, mixing the hot water in with the oats.
"I was finishing today's reading lesson materials. You could've asked Bane."
"Bane's not here," Herobrine grumbled. I raised a brow.
"When did she leave?"
"Last night." Herobrine leaned back, his weight-bearing hand resting in the air next to the countertop. "Crept out around midnight." He let the silence stretch out for a long moment, and I set aside the bowl thoughtfully. The ghosts usually didn't go far, if they did at all. It was Jade who I expected to be the most of a wanderer.
"Gabby?" The voice made me turn, and I found Jean standing in the doorway, rubbing her eye with a small fist. "Who're you talking to?"
"Myself, sweetie," I told her, giving her a reassuring smile and beckoning her over. "You wanna help me watch the potatoes?"
I put Jean to work watching the potatoes, and while those softened I sliced up apples and collected them in a bowl. Having fruit was an unexpected luxury for us, but a kind farmer had dropped off a bushel that had fallen from the trees before their time. This place, Madam Agatha had told us, had been struggling even before the war, and afterwards we survived mainly on the kindness of strangers. A teacher passing through town with books and paper to spare, the milkman with a cart full of milk, or a farmer with a bushel of apples.
Jean squeaked as the boiling water spat at her, and I hurried over to turn down the gas. Jean was only ten, and rather small for her age compared to some of the better-fed 10-year-olds that I had encountered. Still, she had been helping me around the kitchen for two years now, and I trusted her not to do something foolish.
"I think it's done," I announced, reaching in with a fork to prod at the biggest slice. "Hop down for me." Obediently, Jean jumped down from the stool she had been stood upon, allowing me to haul up the pot and strain it over the sink. "Go get everyone up," I instructed as I looked out the kitchen window. The sun was fully visible now, illuminating the early risers as they rushed to and fro in the town square.
It was not until breakfast had been served and eaten that Madam Agatha herself appeared. The Madam had suffered a bad fall several months prior, and still hobbled when she walked, meaning that I had taken over a large portion of the physical work around the home. I didn't mind. All the better to keep an eye on the little ones with.
"Good morning, dear," Madam greeted me as she passed by. I gave her a smile, going to find the plate I had set aside for her.
"Morning, Madam."
"Very warm day out, for November," she commented. I nodded as I brought her her breakfast.
"Yeah, it is."
"I should like to see the children get some exercise today." Madam sank down carefully on the kitchen bench, sighing when she was allowed to relieve the pressure on her leg. I set down the plate in front of her.
"I'll have Evelyn take them out to the field."
"Thank you, Gabby dear."
While Madam ate, and the kids worked on their reading and writing, Jean and I cleaned up from breakfast. The sky was clear and blue outside, promising sun for the rest of the day. Herobrine had, at this point, slipped away, apparently bored without being able to bother me, so as soon as morning lessons were over Evelyn and I rounded up the younger ones and took them outside to play.
Once upon a time, Madam had told us, there used to be a playground outside the home, but it had been stripped for its materials during the takeover and we were left with only a bare patch of dirt in its place. So, when the weather was appropriate for going outside, Evelyn and I would take the younger ones out to a field that was resting between crops and let them run around to their hearts content. The older ones knew to stay close, so most of my attention was on the little ones.
There were only three of them that were under the age of five, Franklin, Emmie, and Benjamin. Benny was the youngest, only just over two, and he had a habit of tearing off across the grass and wildflowers as fast as his little legs would take him. Today it was my turn to watch him, and I followed him faithfully around the field, redirecting him if he got too close to the roads and picking him up when he crashed to his knees in the grass.
It was directly after one of these falls that I saw the strangers in the distance.
I had Benny on my knee, brushing the grass off his pants, when the movement caught my eye. There were at least a dozen horses coming up the main road, hauling two enclosed wagons behind them. It wasn't like we never got company here, even larger groups like this, but… something about these men gave me a very uneasy feeling, which only grew stronger as they seemed to be approaching the children's home.
"Evie," I called, not looking up from the horsemen as I straightened and set Benny on my hip. "It's time to go inside."
Madam Agatha stood stock-still in shock in the doorway, her chins wobbling for a moment as she struggled to come up with a response. "Take them?" She echoed at last. "All of them?"
"No, ma'am." The man at the door was dressed in a decorated uniform, gray and blue with several badges pinned to his jacket. "Not all. Only those ten years old or older."
"But where?" Madam protested. "What on earth do you want them for?"
"There's no reason for alarm, ma'am," the soldier told her, his face betraying nothing where he stood just outside. "This is a part of His Majesty's relief program. The children will be well cared for." I stood silently at the back of the front room, my arm around Jean where she leaned into my side.
Evelyn and I had only just gotten the children safely inside when there was a knock at the door, and when I answered it I was greeted by the horsemen- two uniformed men with guns at their sides and grave looks on their faces. It was no wonder that Madam was alarmed when I fetched her, having been ordered by the men to bring them the woman in charge. Now I stood with the more curious of the children, making sure they didn't run out into danger.
"Begging your pardon, sir, but we're quite alright here," Madam told them. "We get by well enough."
"You'll get by a little easier without so many mouths to feed, won't you?" The man pointed out. "Rest assured, His Majesty has only the best interests for your orphans in mind." His voice grated on my ears, and my arm tightened around Jean's shoulders. If he was trying to be comforting, he was doing a terrible job of it.
"Sir," Madam went on, pleading now. "I have a bad leg. I need the older ones to help me take care of the little ones." The man exchanged a glance with his companion.
"His Majesty's order was clear," the second man said. "We are to bring back with us every child ten years old or above."
"But-"
"We will not be taking no for an answer, ma'am," the man interrupted loudly. "Have the children pack their bags. We will be leaving by nightfall tonight."
obligatory "no im not ditching my other fics I just wanted to do this one right now ehe"
it's spooky month. Enjoy the spooks!