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The Other Realm
On a quiet little farm in the middle of no where there stood a cornfield. Just beyond this cornfield there was a quaint, red farmhouse. In this farmhouse a baby cried. Its soft, innocent whimper brought tears to the young mother’s eyes. As the salty, silver tears streaked down her face, a man called out to her from the kitchen.
“Scarlette, tea’s ready!” said the man. His voice was coarse, but soothing against her ears. She struggled to wipe the tears on her free arm while clutching the baby in the other. She set the infant down in her cradle and slowly trotted into the kitchen.
The instant he saw her red, tear-stained cheeks he rushed over to comfort her. She laid her head on his shoulder as he whispered unknown words into her ear. She wasn’t really paying much attention to what he was saying; the sound of his voice was enough to calm her down.
“Here, sit,” he said as they pulled away from their tight embrace. She sat down in the familiar stained oak chair as he went to fetch the tea. She noticed the drag in his feet as he walked. Neither of them had slept well the past few weeks.
He sauntered back to the table and slid her cup across to her. Silence encompassed them for a long while until at last, the man spoke.
“She must be hidden,” he declared. “She isn’t safe with us and you know it. She must be taken to a safer place.”
The young mother could do nothing but nod as her eyes welled up with tears once more. Her husband reached across the table and grabbed her hand. They sat in silence for several long moments, pondering what to do. The woman called Scarlette was afraid. It was beyond any level of terror she had ever felt. She knew what must be done to protect her child, but dreaded it all the same.
“She shall stay with my mother,” he abruptly announced. This sudden bread of silence briefly stunned the mother, making her jump slightly in her seat. “She’ll be safest there.”
“No,” stated the woman. “I refuse to put your mother in danger. She’s been through enough already.”
“It is what I wish to do and I am certain she will agree to it.”
“No one else needs to get hurt because of us! Don’t you see what is happening Mason?! We are using our loved ones as shields and barriers to protect us! The only thing that comes out of that is pain. We need a new plan; one that involves less risk. I cannot carry this burden any longer.” She looked at him with stern eyes; however there was a trickle of doubt in them as if she didn’t quite believe in her own words.
“Scarlette, think abut this rationally,” he said. “She will be completely safe while we are….away.” He struggled with these last few words as though there was something preventing him from saying them.
A soft whimper could be heard from the living room where their baby girl was waiting to be fed breakfast. By now it was just breaking dawn. The sun was only beginning to take its position in the cloudless, pink and orange sky.
They both rose from their chairs and wandered into the living room towards the cradle. The looked down upon their petite baby girl and found that smiles were slowly edging onto their faces.
“You are beautiful Amarella,” cooed the young mother to her baby. “You are my perfect little flower.” At the sound of her mother’s voice, the infant looked up and smiled at the two of them.
“She has the most incredible eyes I have ever seen,” remarked her father who goes by Mason. “They look nearly purple.” They let these last few words soak in through the silence that followed.
“Alright; we’ll do it,” murmured the woman. “She shall live with your mother until all this boils over. Then we will be a proper family.”
So that was that.
The golden afternoon sun shone through fifteen year old Amarella Fenwick’s city view bedroom window. She often spent the vast majority of her free time here. She felt it was a good place to think and relax after a long day of school. Today, she sat in the window sill, straining to remember the last time she saw them.
It must have been when I was just a baby, she thought. Otherwise I’m sure I would have remembered it.
“Amarella, could you come here for a moment please?” called her Grandmother.
“Coming Sylvia!” replied Amarella with a touch of annoyance in her tone. She rose reluctantly from her comforting place by the window and trudged down the steps to find her grandmother Sylvia standing by the couch in the living room, arms crossed.
“Would you like to explain to me what this is exactly?” she asked sternly, pointing to a purple stain on the floor that matched the color of Amarella’s eves.
“Grape juice,” mumbled the teenager.
“Excuse me? Please do not mumble dear; I haven’t the faintest idea what you just said,” demanded the grandmother.
“Grape juice,” stated Amarella more clearly.
“Do you care to explain to me just why it is on the carpet?”
“I spilled it.”
“Well yes, that much I could figure out for myself. What I mean to ask is why you neglected to clean it up after you realized you had spilled it?”
“I forgot. I’m sorry. I’ll go get the carpet cleaner and clean it up now,” answered Amarella. She was looking down at her feet as she said this, trying to hide her blushing, embarrassed cheeks.
“Da** right you will. Oh, and vacuum the rest of the living room for me would you please darling?”
“Of course, Grandmother.”
Amarella didn’t quite understand her grandmother. She was immensely strict, but in a way that showed she cared. Instead of asking politely, she would often demand things in her raspy, tough-as-nails voice.
Along with the Hercules-strong side of her grandmother, there was also a bit softer side. In the case that Amarella couldn’t sleep, she often went to the kitchen for a cookie and a glass of milk. On her way she would pass her grandmother’s room and would occasionally come across her empty sobs echoing throughout the hall, grieving over what Amarella assumed was the loss of her only daughter.
She contemplated these sides of her grandmother as she rummaged underneath the kitchen sink for the carpet cleaner. She found the familiar red spray bottle with difficulty, and made her way to the hallway closet to find the ancient towel that was much too frequently used to clean the carpet.
While she vigorously scrubbed the carpet, pleading with all her might that the stain would disappear, Amarella decided that tonight would be the night. She would cook a delicious dinner and ensure that her grandmother’s favorite TV program was on immediately after. She had wondered and wondered for so long, contemplating every possible scenario in her head. She just knew that there as more to the story than what she had been told in the past.