CH 8. Gwen (2)

After those two men left, mother returned to the father's side and asked worriedly, "Dear, do you think the village chief will make trouble for us?" Father thought for a moment and replied, "I don't think so. Even though he is not exactly a good person, he knows how to act depending on the situation, and I'm really in no condition to fight. Well, at worst, my pay will get a cut, that's all," Father replied with a chuckle. "Let's hope it's just that, as for some reason I don't like the look of those two men," Mother said.

After that, we resumed our daily routine, but there was already a hint of snow falling, signaling the start of winter. Mother started looking for some herbs that could aid father's recovery, so by the time we returned home, the sun had already started to set. Brother and I helped carry the herbs we found, and as we made our way home, we noticed a crowd in front of our house. We rushed toward the scene to find out what was going on, and when we reached there, someone in the crowd shouted upon seeing us, "Look! The family of the thief is also here!"

At that moment, everyone turned their heads toward us, and a well-dressed middle-aged man emerged from the crowd and commanded, "Catch them!" A few strong-looking men surrounded us and brought us toward the center of the crowd, where our injured father lay on the floor. We rushed toward father and mother, fearing the village chief, and asked, "Village chief, what's going on?"

"Heh, to think I would be kind enough to give your family a place and a job, but you repay me by stealing our fur that we work so hard to get?" the village chief spoke angrily.

"W-what fur? We don't dare to do anything like stealing," Mother tried to explain their innocence, but everyone seemed to not listen and kept shouting "thieves" and "ungrateful monsters."

"Who exactly is the monster here?" I thought, hugging my brother while looking at everyone.

Then suddenly, one of the men spoke, "Chief, let me go check his house. Maybe these filthy thieves hid it somewhere." The person who spoke seemed to be one of the people who showed up that morning. The village chief allowed it, and that person rushed toward our home. After a few moments, he came back out with a couple of furs in his hand.

"Chief! I saw a few of these being hidden underneath a small hole behind their house," he reported.

The village chief frowned as he looked at the amount of fur that was found, realizing it was barely anything compared to what he had lost. He turned toward our frightened family and commanded angrily, "Take everything in the house! As for the man, break both of his arms so he never thinks of stealing again." A few men dragged my father and held their staffs, swinging them down onto both of his arms.

"ACHHHHH!" Father screamed in pain as his bones broke. Mother cried as she tried to hold the hand of the man hurting father, but she received a kick in the stomach and flew back. My brother tried to help, but a group of adult men pushed him to the floor.

' Why does everyone seem to hate us so much? Just because of our appearance? We never wanted to be born like this,' I thought, crying at the sight and starting to hate this unfairness.

After they finished the punishment, the villagers started to disperse. I struggled to get up and helped my father, mother, and brother. It seemed my father had lost consciousness, while my mother had suffered damage to her stomach, and my brother had bruises on his face. I assisted them back into our small house and couldn't help but lament our situation as I looked back outside. The snow began to descend, resembling a curtain that veiled the world, hiding its twistness.