The Beauty of Death

Week 3 + First chapter

    "Run!" Those were the words the signaled that my world was ending, but I didn't know that yet. When those words were first uttered I thought it was another drill, I though this was just another day and that this was our weekly drill where I would go and hide, waiting for the all clear signal that my parents would give me when it was safe to come out again. 

    My name is Amaya Morana Fellderman, only daughter and child of Arnold and Renae Fellderman. We are witches. Years ago there was a horrible horrible war that spun the world out of control. Goblins, Vampires, werewolves, and humans all fought against each other trying to be the most powerful. What every single one of them had in common was that they had witches fighting for them. Witch covens had chosen sides, trying to help the side that they believed rightfully belonged in the place of power. But what this had done was draw a deep divide between the covens. Our society was no longer one of peace, we were not only fighting a war for others, we were fighting our own internal war as well. After years of war, countless lives lost, a motion of peace had been put forward. What we thought meant peace only meant the downfall of witches and everything that we held dear.  Every witch, or magically inclined, family was required to give up their first born child to be given to the Peace Keepers , an organization that would oversee the placement of witches in various households across the globe. This was part of the motion. The witches had been what gave the sides power during the war and in order to keep things even witches were not allowed to fraternize with anyone other than other witches. However, people still wanted to be able to fight should something happen, and that's why first born witches were to be given.  The child would be collected at an unknown time, usually after they had had time to mature and knowledge of their specialized skills would be more apparent, and even starting to develop. Most families accepted this fate, accepted that their first born would be taken from them, never to see them again. my parents had accepted it as well, until the day I had my accident.

     I was 12 and had decided that the beautiful tree sitting on the edge of the woods was calling my name. That was the day that I would climb it, and be on top of the world. The climb had ended tragically, with me toppling out of it and landing straight on my head, snapping my neck and killing me instantly. My mom had been the one to find me, laying in a broken heap at the trunk of the tree. My dad said the sound that came from her lips was one he never wanted to hear again. Said he swore it would make even the goblin king cry if he had heard it. They had immediately called the coven doctors who had come, declared me dead, written the death certificate, and then left my parents to handle the rest. Witches didn't send bodies to a morgue or perform a biopsy, unless the cause of death was severely questioned and/or suspicious.  They would leave the burial, funeral, or any other tradition that was to be followed in the hands of the deceased's family. My parents had carried me to the garden, one of my favorite places to be, while they started to make plans, only to have me walk through the door 5 minutes later. My mother had fainted and my father had tackled me and tied me to a chair. After hours of questioning, and inspection, my parents finally accepted that it was me.  My mother was elated. According to everyone I was dead. They no longer had a little girl. This meant they could keep me, there would be no collection agents coming to take me, they would get to stay together as a family. From that day onward my father spent any free time making a safe house in the side of the mountain that was across the river, more like a cave with creature comforts to be honest. but it was to keep me safe. They became paranoid of everything and everyone. Friends were cut out of their lives, family never came to visit and we never went on trips together either. My world became a bubble, but it was a nice bubble and I didn't mind the restrictions one bit. 

    "Run!" again I heard that word as my father came bursting through the door. The look on his face kicked us into high gear. This was not a drill, a drill would not have caused the look of pure panic and dread on my fathers face. I grabbed my one pair of shoes by the front door then bolted out the back. The less items I had in the house the easier it was to cover my existence. I knew my parents would be eliminating any evidence I was there as my feet gripped the soft grass and I crossed the bridge. I ducked below a fallen tree and made my way to the small metal door in the side of the mountain that would conceal me until safe. I never took the same route, or at least tried to avoid it as much as possible. This ensured there was no clear path for someone to take if anyone tried to follow or find me. I opened the door and shut it quietly behind me. We made sure the hinges and handle were well oiled so as not to make any unnecessary noise. Now all I could do was wait for my parents to come and get me. I curled up on the small cot, with a book in my hands. It was one I had read a million times about a warrior princess who meets the most feared enemy on the battle grounds and he takes her hostage. It was a book that I could read again and again and again. 

    The hours had ticked by, I think they did at least. I had forgotten to look at the clock that sat on one of the small shelves among the canned foods when I had first arrived so my sense of time had started well after I had first shut the door.  But it did seem as though this was taking longer than anticipated. Granted, we had never actually had a non-drill case where I actually needed to hide from real people coming onto the property. Maybe they were there for a social visit, some friends from town that just missed my mom and dad since they had cut everyone out of their lives. Some of their closer friends still made attempts here and there, usually around the holidays, to try and rekindle their friendship. It always ended the same, no rekindled relationship. Sometimes I really hated that because of me they had to live this way, but they always reminded me that this was their choice and they would rather live like this, in our own solitude, than have friends but lose me.

    I couldn't even gather the courage to look outside to see what was happening. So I decided to read one more chapter before calling it a night. It was colder in here at night so curling up in my blanket before the sun went completely down and getting heat going before the cold really set in would help me stay warm and get to sleep. Hopefully I wouldn't have to spend the night here and my parents would soon come and give the signal that it was safe to come out. 

2 hours later...

    I woke to a faint scratching at the door, the sound of sniffing and growling. Maybe a coyote? Wolf? Fox? I couldn't make out what king of animal it was from the sounds it was making. After a few minutes things went quiet, followed by approaching footsteps. My parents must have finally come to get me, it must be safe. I stood anxiously on the other side of the door waiting for the signal. When the Morse Code for "S-A-F-E"  [short short short pause short long pause short short long short pause short] was tapped out on the other side of the door I quickly unlocked it and swung the door open.  

    "Took you guys...." This was not my father. The man standing before me grinned maliciously, the creature at his side sitting proudly next to him. It was an ugly thing, looked like a cross of a dog with mange and a naked mole rat. They were called Skrivers, a breed of goblin dogs that the enforcers found very useful when tracking.

    "You'll be coming with us, Amaya." his gravelly voice sent fear shivering up my spine. a woman walked towards me and putting her hand up in my direction she made a motion much like grabbing a fly out of the air. That's the last thing I remember before my world went dark.