AMARA

# **AMARA** ## **Chapter One: The Child Beneath the Red Moon** The night Amara was born, the moon turned red. It hung above the village of Umuora like a burning eye, covering the thatched roofs, tall trees, and narrow paths in an eerie crimson light. The dogs howled. The birds fled from the trees. And deep inside the f*******n forest, something let out a terrible cry. The villagers came out of their houses, frightened and confused. “What is happening?” “Look at the moon!” “Go back inside!” “Something is wrong!” Mothers pulled their children close. Fathers hurried to shut their doors. Nobody understood the meaning of the strange night. Nobody except Eze Nwafor, the village priest. The moment he looked at the red moon, fear filled his eyes. “No,” he whispered. His hand tightened around his walking stick. “Not this night.” Then a baby's cry came from a small house at the edge of the village. Everyone heard it. Eze Nwafor turned toward the sound. His face became pale. “The child has come,” he whispered. --- Inside the small hut, Adaeze lay exhausted on a woven mat. Her newborn daughter rested in the arms of Ngozi, a young woman who had helped with the delivery. Ngozi was barely in her twenties, but she had assisted many women in the village during childbirth. She carefully wrapped the baby in a clean white cloth. The baby was unusually quiet. Her eyes were open. She stared toward the doorway. Ngozi looked at her curiously. “This child isn't crying anymore.” Adaeze smiled weakly. “Give her to me.” Ngozi placed the baby into her mother's arms. Adaeze looked down at her daughter. “My baby.” Obinna, her husband, stepped closer. “Is she alright?” Ngozi nodded. “She is healthy.” Then she noticed something. A strange golden mark rested above the baby's heart. It was shaped like a small circle surrounded by thin rays. Ngozi's smile disappeared. “What is that?” Obinna leaned closer. “I don't know.” Adaeze touched the mark. Immediately, the wind outside stopped. The trees became completely still. The dogs stopped barking. Even the insects went silent. Then every lamp in the village went out. Darkness swallowed Umuora. --- Screams filled the village. “The spirits!” “Protect the children!” “Stay inside!” Inside the hut, Adaeze held her baby tightly. Obinna rushed toward the door. Before he could step outside, he saw Eze Nwafor standing in the darkness. The priest was staring at the newborn. “Let me see the child,” he said. Obinna stepped in front of his wife. “Why?” Eze Nwafor didn't answer. His eyes remained fixed on the baby. Adaeze pulled her daughter closer. “You are not taking my child.” “I did not say I would take her.” “Then why are you here?” The priest looked toward the red moon. Then he looked back at the baby. His voice dropped to a whisper. “The prophecy.” Obinna frowned. “What prophecy?” The priest looked at him for a long moment. Then he turned away. “Forget I said anything.” And he walked into the darkness. --- By morning, the entire village knew. A child had been born beneath the red moon. And the villagers were afraid. Very afraid. Nobody came to congratulate Adaeze. Nobody brought gifts. Nobody came to admire the baby. Instead, people whispered outside their houses. “That child is cursed.” “She was born under the blood moon.” “She will bring destruction.” “Keep your children away from that house.” “Do not let her come near your family.” Adaeze heard every word. Obinna heard them too. But neither of them knew what to say. They named the child **Amara**. And from the moment she was born, the village decided what she was. Cursed. --- As Amara grew, the rejection only became worse. She was a quiet child. She did not understand why people avoided her. Whenever she walked through the village, conversations stopped. Women who had been laughing together would suddenly become silent when they saw her. Some would pull their children behind them. Others would turn their faces away. If Amara greeted someone, they rarely answered. Sometimes she would smile and say, “Good morning, Mama.” The woman would look at her with fear and walk away. Amara never understood. She was only a child. She wanted friends. She wanted someone to play with. But no child in Umuora was allowed to play with her. Parents made sure of it. “Do not go near Amara.” “Stay away from that girl.” “She is not like you.” “If I see you playing with her, you will be punished.” Even Ngozi, the young woman who had helped bring Amara into the world, kept her own child away from her. One afternoon, Amara saw Ngozi's daughter playing with other children. Amara stood at a distance, watching them laugh. She slowly walked closer. “Can I play too?” The children stopped. One little boy looked toward his mother. The mother immediately called him away. “Come here!” Another child grabbed his toy. “Don't give it to her.” Amara stood there silently. She looked at Ngozi's daughter. “Can I play with you?” The little girl opened her mouth to answer. But Ngozi quickly pulled her daughter behind her. “No.” Amara's face fell. “Why?” Ngozi avoided her eyes. “Go home, Amara.” “But I just want to play.” “Go home.” Amara lowered her head. She walked away alone. Behind her, the children continued playing. Their laughter followed her down the path. --- As Amara grew older, strange things began happening around her. When she was three years old, she sat beside her mother while Adaeze sorted vegetables. Suddenly, Amara looked toward the forest. “Mama.” Adaeze glanced at her. “What is it?” “There is a woman crying.” Adaeze frowned. “What woman?” “She is in the forest.” Adaeze immediately became tense. “Don't talk about that place.” “But she is crying.” “There is nobody there.” Amara looked toward the trees. “She says her name is Nneka.” Adaeze dropped the vegetable in her hand. Her face changed. “Nneka?” Amara nodded. “Yes.” Nneka was Adaeze's older sister. She had disappeared in the f*******n forest many years ago. Adaeze grabbed Amara's shoulders. “Who told you that name?” “The woman.” “What woman?” Amara pointed behind her mother. “She is standing there.” Adaeze slowly turned. Nobody was there. Then she heard a whisper. “Adaeze...” Adaeze screamed. She grabbed Amara and rushed inside. From that day forward, she became even more frightened of her daughter. --- Amara's strange behavior gave the villagers another reason to hate her. When she told people about things they could not see, they called her a liar. When she spoke about voices she heard, they called her possessed. When she predicted things that later happened, people became more afraid. And when anything went wrong in the village, Amara was blamed. If someone's goat disappeared— “It is Amara.” If a child became sick— “She brought it.” If the crops failed— “That cursed girl has angered the spirits.” Amara began to understand that nobody wanted her. She stopped trying to make friends. She stopped greeting people. She stopped asking children to play with her. She learned to walk with her eyes lowered so she wouldn't have to see the disgust on people's faces. But she still wondered one thing. **Why was everyone afraid of her?** --- On the night Amara turned seven, she discovered the answer was connected to something much bigger. That night, she woke suddenly. Her room was dark. Someone was standing beside her bed. A woman. She was tall, beautiful, and dressed in a long white cloth. Her hair fell down her back. Amara stared at her. “Who are you?” The woman smiled. “You will know soon.” Suddenly, the room disappeared. Amara found herself standing in the middle of Umuora. But the village was burning. Houses were on fire. People were running. Children were crying. The river had turned black. The trees were dying. Then Amara saw a dark figure standing in the center of the village. It had no face. Only two glowing eyes. The figure turned toward her. “You cannot save them.” Amara stepped backward. “Who are you?” The figure laughed. “They already hate you.” Amara shook her head. “I didn't do anything.” “They will blame you.” “No.” “They will fear you.” Amara covered her ears. “Stop!” The figure moved closer. “And when the darkness comes...” The ground shook beneath her feet. “...you will have to decide whether to save the people who rejected you.” Amara screamed. --- She woke up crying. Adaeze rushed into the room. “Amara!” The little girl threw herself into her mother's arms. “Mama!” “What happened?” “I saw the village.” “What did you see?” Amara looked toward the window. The moon was red. Just like the night she was born. Her little voice trembled. “The village was burning.” Adaeze froze. “What?” “I saw fire everywhere.” Amara began crying again. “They were all running.” Adaeze held her tightly. For the first time, she did not know whether to be afraid of her daughter . Because somewhere deep inside the f*******n forest, something ancient had awakened. Something that had been waiting for seven years. Something that knew exactly who Amara was. And it was coming for Umuora. The village had rejected the child who might save them. But they did not know it yet.