Vengeance.

My hand stung as a blister formed, blast that darn makeshift broom. My feet trudged through the mud trying to get back to the house from the barn. My hands, though sore, were covered with dirt and grime from the broom and the animals. I barely had the door open before I felt the hard slap of my mothers hand across my face. She was standing there, her face red with anger as she looked at me with the utter disappointment I have learned to live with. Her hands now rested on her hips as my eyes started to water from the smarting sensation in my cheek.

“Where da hay have you done gone Dailyn? You was ‘sposed ta cleen up the peeg peen! Den ya was ‘sposed to warsh ya sesta’s clodes! You fiddy rag! Geet!” My mother’s bloated fleshy arms pulled me through the doorway and her foot connected with my back, sending me sprawling to the floor. Before I could react her hand grasped my hair and pulled, threatening to rip each strand from my head. The pain that surged through my scalp pulled me to my feet. I struggled to get away from her, but before I could do much my ribs exploded with pain as she slammed the pot in her hand into my side. I gasped trying to breathe past the pain.

My sister smirked from the corner in her new dress, enjoying the beating I was receiving. My mother released my hair and I staggered backwards. She stood there with her plump arms resting on her wide hips, glaring at me as if to scare me into moving. The pain in my chest was overwhelming. My sister stepped forward and wrapped her plump arms around our mother, her blonde hair crowding her face, which was smirking cruelly at me. Our mother’s face softened and hugged the girl back.

Suddenly I felt sick, turning slowly, as to not cause more pain I went off to my room. My door closed without making a sound and I pulled the small diary out from underneath my makeshift mattress. I reached under and grabbed my small knife. Despite the pain I was already in I pressed the blade into the tip of my finger. The small wound burned as I pressed below the cut, draining the blood into a small cup. The smell of rusty copper filled the room. I winced as I reached for the feather, the movement agitating the bruise forming over my ribs. I could swear she broke something. I stuck my bloody finger in my mouth, using my tongue to close the wound and stop the bleeding. With my other hand I dipped the end of the feather into the cup and began to write.

“That’s it, I’ve had it. All she does is cry and moan and fuss over my sister, her daughter. Like I’m not even there. She gets everything, and what do I get… nothing, simply nothing.

Everything was fine until Meme… until I was left alone. Then my world went upside down. I am sick and tired of hearing my mother scream about me and having me live my life around my sister. I mean she’s not even that pretty and yet she gets everything. Then when my Grandmother, my rock, left because… When she left… My world crashed to pieces. She was the only person that could tame my mother and keep her off my back was her. Then he took her away from me. This is it, this is the last straw. I am leaving tonight. My mom won’t care, she never has. I’m leaving and I will find him, I will. Watch me. I’ll find him and he will regret messing with my family!”

By the time I had finished writing the room had become dark. I stared up at the ceiling wondering what I should do. My mind ran over several ideas, none holding much promise any way. Oh! But wait. My feet swung off the side of my mattress and my eyes scanned the dark room. I looked at the door to make sure it was fully closed and I stood. The plan formed in my head as I reached for my burlap pack. Without making any noise I filled it with all my clothes, which sadly would not be fit for the coming season. But I’ll handle it.

I threw my boots next to the bag on the bed and crept towards the door. My breath held as my fingers curled around the handle, praying it wouldn’t squeak. The door opened with ease and a whoosh of air exited my lungs. Outrageous snoring penetrated my ears from both of the rooms, my sister’s and my parent’s.

Once again I held my breath as I crept to the kitchen grabbing what bread and cheese I could hold. As I turned around to head back to my room I noticed my father’s thick wool jacket on the table. A slow smirk spread across my face and snatched it and hurried back to my room. My eyes scanned the room one last time as I stuffed the food in the bag. The moonlight started to creep into the room which aided me. My eyes caught a glimpse of my bow and quiver that I had nearly forgotten. I picked up the bag and weapon in one hand, moving over to the window.

Taking one last glance at the room I picked up my journal and boots. I shoved the journal in my bag I opened the window. Silently I placed my bag and weapon on the ground and maneuvered under the glass and sat on the window sill so I could pull on my boots.

I lowered myself to the ground and turned to close the window. It landed with a thud and my breath caught in my throat. My body crumpled to the ground and watched my parent’s window with fear. A few moments passed and all I heard was the steady snoring. My body melted in relief and I leaned against the old house. Careful not to make noise I picked up my belongings and situated them comfortably.

I shivered as a cold breeze made its way through the wool jacket. I pulled the edges, making the jacket tight around my slim frame and started off quickly, anxious to put as much distance between me and the house as humanly possible.

Once I entered the ever familiar forest I slowed, my arms wrapped around me as remorse flooded me. My chest tightened as I thought about what I was doing. I turned and looked back at the house, now just a faded speck between the trees. I didn’t want to leave. This place is my home, the forest my comfort. I turned back again determined to continue on my journey, my eyes caught the tree my grandmother and I would sit at as she told me stories. I stopped and placed my bag and weapon next to it. The second my hand touched the bark a memory flooded my mind.

“Meme? I’ll always be able to count on you right?” I asked as I crawled up onto my grandmother’s lap..

“My little girl” she smiled at me and smoothed my hair with her gentle hand. “No matter what happens you can always know that I am watching out for you and taking care of you.” I watched as her face changed into an expression I couldn’t recognize. She put her gentle hands around my tiny waist and turned me so she could look me in the eye. “But listen my little precious one. If there was ever a time you couldn’t find me I want you to promise me something. Only in an emergency should you do this.” She put her hand on my cheeks gently and smiled sadly.

“I want you to come to this tree, and find the knot in the trunk.” She turned and pointed. “It’s right below the third lowest branch in the tree.” She looked back at me with the same sad smile. My face was twisted in a pout not quite understanding what she was talking about. “Everything in there will help you, no matter what the emergency” I pouted still and put my head on her chest, letting my eyes close.

“I love you Meme.” My voice came out in a whisper as I fell asleep...

My breath attacked my lungs hard, as if I had been holding it. Quickly my eyes scanned the tree and located the knot that I had seen in my memory. I chuckled as I ran my hand over the knot. Tears burned at my eyes and I leaned against the tree. “Thanks Meme… I miss you.” The sound of my voice seemed almost alien to me as I fought back the tears.

The tree began to shift under my hand and I recoiled from it. The place where my hand had been began to fall away in pieces. I stood there in disbelief; the tree was falling apart right in front of me! The bark finally stopped falling away and it revealed a small opening.

My back straightened and in a flash my bow was in my hand and ready to fire. My eyes expertly scanned the forest for intruders. Once again I felt foolish. There was no one there. I released the string but kept the bow and arrow in my hand. My breath entered my stiff lungs and left just as slowly, relaxing my muscles once again.

I looked at the hole and carefully reached in. When my fingers connected with fabric I jumped back. “What?” I asked myself and reached in again, pulling out a small burlap sack, no bigger than my palm. I pulled at the string and the sack opened revealing a handful of gold coins. “Oh, my gosh, where did this come from!” I exclaimed happily. Quickly I lifted the bag to my shoulder and stuff the sack in it. I reached back in the hole and found three more of the same.

Once again I reached in to see if there were any left. Disappointed I found nothing, but something hard hit my fingers. Blinking I wrapped my fingers around it and pulled it out. It was a small dagger! The sheath was made from gold and it had been studded with several emeralds. I was shocked; Meme had this and never said a thing. Some how she must have known.

Sadness washed over me as that thought crossed my mind. She must have known, other wise she would have never left this here. I put the dagger with the four little sacks and stepped back. As I did a loud cracking noised echoed through the forest, my body tensed and looked around, my hand gripping my bow tightly. As my eyes passed over the tree I was surprised once again. The hole had covered itself back up, revealing only the knot.

I let myself sit down against the tree and look at the dagger. It glimmered in the moonlight. I blinked as I noticed something I hadn’t before. It had straps on it. Small ones. I rolled up my sleeve carefully and tightened the straps around my arm. I smiled as I hid the dagger under the sleeve of my shirt and my coat.

“Thanks Meme, I don’t know how you knew, but thanks.” I stood once again and replaced my gear and started off towards the city with a bittersweet sigh.