It is a world full of… well, everything mythical.

I am Andrea and I am the last of my kind. At least that’s what people say and that’s what I hear in the whispers around town. I was taken from my family when I was only ten years old. That day is one that will live with me for eternity.

I remember I was playing with my siblings in our living room while mama was in the kitchen preparing dinner. I remember the sound of her sweet tinkling voice when she called out to us that our papa was back. My older siblings rushed up the wooden stairs to their rooms, they’d just returned home from their travel and wanted to surprise papa. My little sister, Isabelle, and I ran to door and counted slowly to a hundred as we waited for papa to come in. I don’t know how mama always knew when papa was close to home but she always did and as a ritual I would wait at the door and count to one hundred before he came in. I did that alone until Isabelle had come along and together we always waited and counted just as we did now. Whenever we neared ninety mama would always join us and at ninety-eight we’d wear our best smiles to welcome papa.

“Hundred!” my papa’s voice would boom over ours as he opened the door and then bend to pick up a jumpy Isabelle, ruffle the hair on my head and pull mama in for a hug. I liked to watch how mama would smile at papa, her smile so deep her eyes of honey brown shone and twinkled, filled with mysteries of a love so pure. I had always thought then that someday I would love someone like my papa and my eyes will shine so like mama’s when I smile.

Papa dropped Issabelle as she ran with her tiny feet to join mama who was on her way back to the kitchen. Never taking my eyes off pa, I watched him take off his coat and hang it on the coat hanger by the door and together, we walked hand in hand to join mama and Issabelle in the kitchen. My ma was already dishing out dinner when we joined them and papa was quick to join her. Mama was dishing the fourth meal when pa paused, looked up to the ceiling and called out with a loud booming voice, “where are those rascal children of my loins? I know you’re home already, there’s no surprising me.”

It was Kathie that came in the kitchen first with a smug look on her face as she turned to look at my twin older brothers, Joe and John, who followed behind her. They were much older than myself and Issabelle and they often teased us that we were the ‘extras’ and ‘spares’ should anything happen to them. I never understood what they meant by that, I just always thought that they were being mean. They were dressed rugged like they’d gone mountain climbing, leather clad from head to foot and Kathie was sporting some bruises and cuts on her exposed arms. They looked like warriors on their day off without all the weapons apart from their fighting knives stored in secret parts of their bodies. I know because Joe had showed me one the knives he kept in his boots. I envied them sometimes, they got to leave our home and go on travels with papa, but when I wanted to come with, papa would say in a gentle voice, “you’re not strong enough to go on these strenuous travels, but soon you will be.” I never understood what he meant, but he was my papa and he loves, so I believed him.

We all took our seat on the backless chairs arranged around the island of the kitchen. Papa was sat at the head of the island square, mama on his left and myself on his right, Issabelle was beside mom and Kathie was beside Isabelle. On my right side Joe and John were seated and arguing about something in hushed tones. Everybody was saying something to somebody and laughing, even little Issabelle was laughing and pointing her little spoon at Joe. I was stuffing my face with food and enjoyed everything, I liked when we were all together and loud and loving each other. So when everywhere got quiet apart from Isabelle’s eating, I looked up from my food. Papa had his mean face on. This one I had never seen before as he looked around the table at us, even Issabelle stopped eating, she must have sensed the tension in the air.

Papa looked at mama for a while then she nodded, just as Kathie, Joe and John stood to leave the kitchen. Papa had said something with his eyes that mama understood, they talked without talking. Mama carried Issabelle and walked around pa to my side and I followed without question. We took hurried steps out of the kitchen but I couldn’t leave without looking at papa one more time. The tiny hairs on my skin rose and the back of my neck prickled so I knew then that I had to go back to him. I ran back into the kitchen and into my papa’s large body and I hugged him tight for what felt like years but it was mere seconds. “I love you papa, I love you papa, I love you…” that was all I could say. Papa smiled, he told me he loved me too and placed his palm on my chest. It burned where he touched for a second it was so fleeting, I thought I imagined it, then I ran out to mama. She put us in our favorite hiding place when we played the game of hiding and finding.

“Don’t make any sounds little ones, no matter what. You will survive this. I love you Belle and I love you Andrea, with all of my being,” she said as she hugged and kissed our heads for maybe the last. Then she closed us in and went away.

To be continued…

P.S: Thank you for reading. Please share your comments, what do you think about this story? 🖤🖤