S1 E2: Memories Pt. 2

Silver Heart (Age 4: December 14, 2003) 

The log house shook from the force of the point-blank gunshot; or maybe it was just my imagination, and I was the one that was shaking. Feeling warmth in my lower half, I looked down in confusion. I found fear trickling down my thin legs onto the shag carpet as my skin lost its light amber color, becoming snow-white. I was like a wet painting, whose colors were melting off in a strong stream of water.

I was so scared that my body reacted and lost its color forever. 

“Useless Creature,” the man spat as he cleaned his gun with a dingy white handkerchief from his pocket.  

“If I can’t have the kid, I’ll settle for his weakness,” he muttered to himself, tossing the used hankie towards my mother's dead body. It fell ever so slowly before covering her dull, lifeless eyes.

I didn't know what he meant by my weakness… To this day, I still don't know what he meant…

He started tearing through the nearby bookshelf, discarding my mother's prized possessions as if they were meaningless trash. I had to be patient if I was going to escape successfully. I had to ignore the rage at my mother's murderer if I was going to get out of here alive. 

After his fruitless efforts, he looked at his clothes with disgust and left the room. I don’t know why he never bothered to check the closet before leaving the room, but I was grateful. It must have been as hidden as mother led me to believe or something magical protected me. Amme always told me to believe in magic, even if that seemed a bit silly and childish for a woman her age.

I stood in the darkness listening to breaking furniture and shattering plates. My heart raced with anxiety as I tried to find the right opportunity to run. But a part of me rebelled at the thought of leaving without saying goodbye. I desperately wanted to hold my mother's hand one last time… 

Quietly creeping out of the tiny closet, I prayed that I wouldn't be seen. The small room took ages to cross, and my shaking limbs granted no favors. I eventually found her limp hand and held it to my face as my tears continued to flow. While I lamented over my mother’s death, a faint flash of light from under the bed caught my eye. Gently placing my mother’s hand on the ground, I investigated the light further. With an outstretched arm under the bed, I searched for the source of light, but I was careful to keep a close eye on the bedroom door; I would do my best to obey my mother’s last command. I wouldn't let myself be seen by that man.  

I felt something warm and smooth beneath my curious fingers. Pulling it out of the darkness, I found myself staring at my mother's charm bracelet, a simple silver-colored chain that carried the secrets of older generations hidden in those odd charms. It was ancient and that was putting it lightly. This heirloom bore images of the full moon, a majestic oak tree, a snarling wolf, a cracked crown, a clenched fist, a wolf's paw being stabbed by a jagged sword, and two skulls stuck to each other screaming in agony and horror.  

It must have fallen off when she was attacked. I clutched it tightly, knowing this was the last thing I would ever have from my mother. Though my wrists were much smaller than hers, I made the bracelet fit and gave one last kiss to my mother’s bloody cheek. The taste of iron and salty tears coated my lips as reality sank in. I wanted to tell her I loved her. I wanted to say goodbye, but my voice was frozen, and my lungs barely held enough air for me to breathe. I hoped the gods would hear my cries, and tell her everything I was too weak to say.  

She would go to heaven, right? Maybe be reborn in a better life? The unknown sins she had mentioned would be forgiven, right? … Right? 

I slowly made my way out of the crime-filled bedroom, trying not to focus on the blood staining the carpet and drying on my lips. Peeking around the splintered door frame, I verified that the man was no longer there. I saw a shadow in the bathroom down the hall and could hear cabinets slamming and various toiletries being scattered about, clinking against the old tiles.

In the quick glimpse I managed to catch, I noticed he had changed his clothes and the fireplace in front of me had gained more fuel from the discarded fabric. It seems even villains could quick-change as fast as the heroes from my bedtime stories.

My eyes flickered in the opposite direction toward the front door. I was lucky the exit was in the opposite direction of his crazed destruction, but I wasn't tall enough to reach the highest locks and even from my hiding spot I could tell he had secured the door... Maybe he knew I was here and was trying to trap me... Why? I had no idea. Lucky for me, I was small, and we did have a dogie door for a large breed. My legs were still shaking too badly to walk, let alone run. So I crawled through the destroyed items, careful not to crawl over the broken pictures or pottery that could hurt me and cause noise, and through my dog's blood.

I was sad about my dog's death, my first ever pet that I had begged for weeks to get, but I felt empty when I looked at his lifeless body. Stroking his sticky, wet fur, I tried to feel something, anything for him. I loved him, but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't feel anything. I could only think of my mother and even those sharp feelings were fading. Everything was becoming calm inside me… Numb. Tears still ran down my face, reflecting on things I could no longer feel as thoughts of survival crept into my mind.  

I had to get out of there. I knew I'd be next if I didn't leave. 

Not wanting to alert the man of my exit, I crawled out the doggy door onto our frosted wooden porch and gazed at the unmarked, black van before me. This man could catch me if I left on the main road to town… I took off towards the thick woods, grabbing a branch to help sweep away my footsteps, and silently prayed there were no hungry beasts waiting in the night.

I didn't stop running; I didn't dare look back. 

The full moon illuminated my icy path… I rarely looked at the moon on mother's insistence. It always made me feel strange. Mother would have to pet my head to make it go away, or she would let me wear her bracelet for a brief time, but the moon was so beautiful that it was hard not to gaze at it. I even had magical dreams about it changing my mother and I… At least I could wear her bracelet all the time now… 

The deeper in the woods I went, the clearer my surroundings became. I could see every branch, every leaf, and hear every sound. The cold didn't even bother me and felt cleansing to my eager lungs. If anything, I felt at home in the rugged countryside and alive in the beauty of the night.  

I survived by some odd instinct I didn't know I had… It felt animal-like.  

All I could think about was following my mother’s last wishes.

To find what was missing.

To grow strong.

And to get lost in a sea of people.