"Help.... Please!" a desperate voice cried out from the cracks of a castle. "I'm coming, please just hold on!" I yelled while running towards the flames. As if teleported, I found myself standing before a child that looked to be twelve years old. The child was lying lifelessly on the hot floor and made no sound. I felt tears creeping down my cheeks as I crouched down and lifted the child in my arms. It was a beautiful boy with hair as dark as the night sky. Was I too late to save him? This was the question that coursed through my frantic mind as I told myself to run and get this child to safety. I ran as fast as my short legs could manage and made my way out of the flaming building.
I laid the boy on the grass and cried out to him "Wake up! Please! You are safe now!". The child did not respond, so I took his wrist palm-side up and placed two fingers on his vein. It was almost non-existent but there was a small rhythm that pulsed against my fingers. The lone fact that the boy was still alive made me cry tears of joy as I brought him close to me, wrapping him in a warm hug. I was just in time to save him, but something felt strange. I suddenly felt something warm trickling down my right hand.
I looked down and caught sight of my wrist. "AAHHHHHHHH!!!" a shrill scream came from me as I saw that my wrist was ripped open. Blood was streaming down my hand, but I chose to look back at the boy who was inches away from my face. His eyes were fully open now, peering into mine as if he was looking for something or someone. Had my scream frightened him? I was no longer concerned with the blood on my wrist. At this moment, the young boy that was before me mattered more. I stroked his hair with my left hand and hid my right hand behind his back. "I am sorry. Did I scare you little one?" I spoke with a worry plaguing my thoughts. The bright look in the boy's sapphire-colored eyes dispelled my concerns.
His eyes were sparkling as if he had just gotten a new toy. The boy's lips then curled into a small smile as he eased back from my hold. I watched him intently as he took my right hand in his and stared at my wrist with concern. I was about to yank it back to avoid startling him, but as if he could predict my next move, he looked up and whispered "Don't". I did not bother to move my hand and observed the boy as he shifted to his knees, still holding my hand. He looked into my eyes with reassurance as he moved his lips down and began to drink the blood that streamed from my wrist. "What are you doing child?!" I shouted in shock. "SHHH.... It is alright Phoenix dear", a soft voice assured me, engulfing my body in a tight hug. "It was just a dream" the voice spoke again. I immediately opened my eyes and burst into tears. "Mama, it was him again, that child. Why do I keep seeing him?" I spoke, trembling with an overload of emotions. "You never knew any boy like that dear. I cannot think of an explanation for these dreams you keep having" Mama spoke with a slight tremble in her voice.
My life began in a small English village called Arundel. My family was of poorer status than others thanks to my parents' relationship. My mother, Hemming, was a dark-skinned beauty who worked in a brothel as a maid. My father, Alaric, was a pale-skinned man that fished for mullets to put food on the table. My three older sisters and I were the product of their forbidden relationship. My sisters were kind, hardworking, and beautiful. They possessed such noble qualities which were lacking even among the wealthy, pampered crowd. Nevertheless, most of the other villagers were always less than kind to our family. None of our good qualities mattered to them because our mother is dark-skinned, and we were not sons. Daughters were only valued and held in high regard amongst the wealthy crowd.
It did not help much at all that we were half-breeds on top of being female. Even if a family had nothing but the dirt on their feet and the clothes on their backs, having a son signified strength and dignity. Even bearing a retarded son was to be regarded as a higher honor than bearing daughters. After all, women were seen as worthless creatures, only existing to satisfy the needs and wants of men. The only women that were highly respected were those of the nobility. The names of my sisters are Kathleen, Lydia and Diana.
Our Mama was always busy cleaning the brothel in order to make as much money as she could. It had always become messy within minutes of cleaning due to the rowdy male customers that seemed to prance through the wooden doors every minute of the day. She rarely had time for us, but we understood her situation. After all, the money was used to support our poor family.
She still tried to spend time with us whenever she could and that was good enough for us. At least she was not like our father, who seemed to have given up on life completely. The only commendable thing he did was to fish and sell the mullets. However, he only did it because he enjoyed fishing. He also knew that if he had not provided at least a coin for his family, he would have been seen as a simpleton, since men were expected to provide for their families. However, most of the money he made was wasted on his countless escapades. That often left us receiving only three or four coins from him.
Our father was once a kind man, but just as the seasons change, so do people. He became embarrassed by the sight of us. His genes were not strong enough to bless our mother with a son. In actuality, the only reason there are four of us is that he desperately wanted to get a son, so he kept trying. Even though my sisters and I are young, some parts of us knew that he had regretted courting our mother. Now he barely wished to look at her. He would come home late at night smelling as if he had bathed in liquor with lipstick smeared on his shirt.
I had heard stories about their past from Papa. He claimed that he fell in love with Mama because she was kinder and more beautiful than any of the other girls in the village. She was a hard-working, virtuous woman, and it did not go unnoticed by others, especially him. He knew it would be seen as absolute blasphemy if he had gotten married to her, but he did not care.
He was young, madly in love and no one could do anything to change his mind. His family had disowned him after he married her, so they decided to build a life on their own. They settled down on the western side of the village, which was more developed. It possessed larger houses all around and the beautiful Arundel castle in the topmost part of the village. The river Arun ran closer to the eastern side of the village, but it did not take much traveling to reach it. The only downside was that the majority of the villagers were pale-skinned.
They chose this area because they knew that they could both find work here. They started their lives as a married couple and were blessed with my eldest sister, who they named Elleen. Then a year later, Mama gave birth to Lydia and Diana followed two years later. After giving birth to me three years later, Mama found out that she could no longer have children, so she kept it from Papa until I turned two. When he found out, he felt consumed with anger. Since he could not have a son, he chose to stay away from us as much as possible as we were a reminder that he had failed as a man.
He regretted not listening to his family back then now more than ever. That left the eldest, Elleen with the responsibility of looking after us. She never minded it though; she had always been happy to take care of us because she loved us with all her heart. Elleen was seen as beautiful both inside and out to everyone that came across her. Even those that were filled with hatred for our family secretly admired her.
Elleen boasted light blonde hair like Papa's, that trailed down to her backside in luscious curls. With amber eyes and bronze skin, she resembled a ray of sunshine rising in the dark. Lydia and Diana both inherited mother's dark curly hair, though theirs were longer and softer in texture than hers. They even got her light brown eyes but possessed pale skin like that of Papa's. I looked the most abnormal, with light brown skin that resembled caramel and dark brown eyes. My hair a fiery shade of red that fell to my waist in flowy curls. Out of all of us siblings, Lydia and Diana were the ones that looked most similar to the other villagers, but they were still seen as pariahs.
There was nothing we could do to fit in with the other villagers. At times when we would go to the market, people would scowl at us and make snide comments, but we chose to ignore it. Every day this discrimination was my reality and at nights I only had one dream. The dream of a young boy in danger and I was the only one that could save him. This dream plagued me every night for as long as I could remember, but I had no idea why.