That morning, Tristeza woke up earlier than usual. She could feel the cool air sneaking through the small wooden window gaps in her room, bringing with it the fresh scent of wet earth. It was a special day. Tristeza and her father were going to the city to sell their harvest. The village where they lived was in a quiet valley, surrounded by towering mountains and dense forests. It was a small village, home to only a few dozen families who lived peacefully by farming and raising livestock.
Tristeza jumped out of her bed and hurried to put on a simple dress that her mother had sewn for her. She was very excited today. Not only because they were going to the city—somewhere she rarely visited—but also because she wanted to buy a gift for her beloved older sister. Tristeza stepped out of her room and found her mother busy in the kitchen, preparing breakfast.
The kitchen was filled with the aromatic smell of warm corn porridge steaming from a large pot over the fire. Elisa was skillfully pouring the porridge into bowls and placing them on the simple wooden table that was the heart of their family life. Isabella was already seated at the table, her eyes still sleepy, but her lips smiled at the sight of her enthusiastic sister.
"Tristeza, don't forget to bring snacks for the journey. You know the trip to the city isn't short," Elisa said softly but firmly while preparing sandwiches and neatly wrapping them in cloth. She then lovingly stroked Tristeza's cheek. "And take care of yourself. The roads can be dangerous sometimes."
Tristeza nodded while grabbing a piece of bread and quickly starting to eat. She then turned to Isabella, who was sitting at the end of the table. "I'm going to buy you a doll from the city!" she exclaimed with shining eyes.
Isabella smiled slightly while shaking her head. "A doll? You don't need to buy me anything, Tristeza. I just want you to come back safely," she replied, her tone full of concern.
Meanwhile, Marcelo was busy outside, checking the horse-drawn carriage that would take them to the city with some of their neighbors who were also going. Their old brown horse swished its tail as if it understood that today would be a long journey. Marcelo walked into the house, washing his hands in a basin of water by the door.
"Come on, Tristeza, it's time to go," he said, affectionately ruffling Tristeza's hair. "We need to sell all the harvest before the sun sets."
Elisa approached with a bundle of packed snacks. She looked at her husband with worry, although a gentle smile still graced her face. "Be careful on the road," she said quietly.
Marcelo looked at Elisa and smiled reassuringly. "Don't worry, dear. We'll be back before nightfall," he assured her and then kissed her forehead.
After that, Marcelo and Tristeza climbed into the carriage, ready to start their journey. Tristeza waved enthusiastically to Isabella and Elisa standing in front of the house, returning their waves with smiles.
"We'll be back quickly!" Tristeza shouted as the carriage slowly moved away from the village. The carriage rolled gently along the rocky road, leaving tracks in the dew-soaked earth.
---
The journey to the city was always something Tristeza looked forward to. She loved seeing the sights along the way—the green trees swaying in the gentle breeze and the cheerful chirping of birds. The road they traveled wound through lush forests, and occasionally they passed small villages that also thrived on farming.
In the middle of the journey, Tristeza sat beside her father and watched the road with excitement. "Dad, what are we going to buy in the city this time? I want to see dolls at the market. And I also want to buy something for Sister Isabella," she said eagerly.
Marcelo smiled faintly, his gaze fixed on the road ahead. "We'll see, sweetie. Our harvest is pretty good this time, so maybe we can buy something more than usual," he replied, patting Tristeza on the shoulder.
Hearing this, Tristeza's heart soared. She imagined Isabella would be very happy to receive a new doll, and maybe she could also buy something nice for her mother.
However, unbeknownst to them, something terrible was happening in their small village. Behind the beauty and calmness of that morning, danger had quietly arrived. A group of ruthless and merciless bandits had invaded their village. With incredible speed and cruelty, they broke in, killing anyone who dared to resist and raiding anything they could find.
Elisa was busy washing clothes in the backyard when she heard screams from the edge of the village. At first, she thought it was just neighbors arguing, something that occasionally happened. But the screams grew louder and more frantic, followed by the sounds of clashing metal and anguished cries.
Elisa's face turned tense, her maternal instincts kicking in. She dropped the bucket of clothes and ran to the front of the house. "Isabella!" she yelled, her eyes searching for her daughter, who usually played in the backyard.
Isabella ran toward her with a confused look on her face. "Mom, what's happening? Why is everyone screaming?"
Elisa didn't answer. She quickly pulled Isabella inside the house, her heart pounding. She knew danger was approaching. With trembling hands, she closed and locked the door and looked for a place to hide her daughter. Inside the house, Elisa spotted a large basket usually used for storing harvests.
"Isabella, quick, hide in here," whispered Elisa, opening the basket and urging her daughter to crawl inside. Isabella looked at her mother anxiously but obeyed without asking many questions. "Don't come out until I call you, okay?" Elisa added, her voice quivering with fear.
But before Elisa could close the basket properly, their front door was flung open violently. Elisa gasped, her eyes widening as a group of armed men barged into their home forcefully. Their faces were fierce, their bodies muscular, wielding swords and axes still stained with blood.
One of them, a tall man with a scarred face, stepped forward. "Search for anything to take, don't let anyone live!" he shouted to the others.
Elisa tried to fight back. She screamed, pleading for mercy. But her pleas were ignored. The bandit dragged her to the center of the room, throwing her to the ground. Elisa's eyes were filled with terror, but she didn't stop begging, although she knew it was futile.
"Please… let me go. I have nothing for you," Elisa cried out, her voice breaking.
The man just laughed coldly, his tone filled with delight. And without warning, the bandits ripped Elisa's clothes off and took turns assaulting her. Elisa struggled, but what could she do against the brutality of the bandits? She was stripped and raped by them one after another. Elisa tried to stay silent so her screams wouldn't reach her child, but the cruel attackers assaulted her with unimaginable brutality. Elisa's screams filled the house, but no one could come to her aid. Inside the basket, Isabella covered her mouth with her hands, tears streaming down her cheeks. She held her breath, terrified that her cries would be heard.
Several minutes passed, which felt like an eternity, and finally, the house fell silent. Elisa lay motionless on the floor, her body covered in blood. They had killed Elisa after having their way with her. The bandits left, leaving devastation in their wake.
Isabella continued to hide in the basket for what felt like a very long time, too afraid to come out. She remained hidden for hours, each second feeling like forever as she listened to the receding sounds of the attackers—clanging metal, splintering wood, and occasionally, distant screams. When the sounds finally faded, an unsettling silence enveloped the village like a thick fog. She finally dared to lift the cover of the basket, only to be met with the terrifying sight of her mother lying lifeless on the floor. Isabella sobbed soundlessly, shaking her mother's body in hopes of a miracle.
---
Their home was in disarray. The table was overturned, chairs were scattered, and the walls were marred with sword slashes that reflected the attackers' rage. And in the middle of the room, her mother, Elisa, lay motionless on the floor. A face once full of life was now pale and lifeless. Blood soaked Elisa's torn dress and pooled around her, creating a horrific puddle.
Isabella gasped sharply. "Mom?" her voice was barely audible, trembling with fear. "Mom, wake up…"
She crawled out of the basket and rushed to her mother's side, her small hands trembling as she tried to touch her mother's body. Elisa's skin felt cold. Isabella quietly sobbed as she gently shook her mother's body, hoping this was all just a nightmare. But Elisa did not move; her open eyes stared blankly at the ceiling, devoid of life.
"Mom, please… please wake up," Isabella begged, her voice cracking with tears.
But there was no answer. Her mother was gone.
Isabella's world shattered in an instant. Everything she knew—the warmth of her family, the safety of their small village—was ripped from her in the blink of an eye. She cried until there were no tears left, her small body curling up beside her mother's, holding on to the remains of the one who had protected and loved her wholeheartedly.
---
Elsewhere, far from the tragedy that had befallen their village, Tristeza and Marcelo were on their way back from the city. The day had gone well; they had successfully sold most of their harvest and even bought a small wooden doll for Isabella, as promised by Tristeza. The doll was simple, but its neatly painted face and little clothes made Tristeza smile, imagining how happy Isabella would be to receive it.
"I can't wait to give it to Sister," said Tristeza, her eyes sparkling with excitement as she carefully held the doll in her lap.
Marcelo chuckled softly as he guided his horse along the narrow rocky road. "Isabella will be very happy," he said, glancing at his daughter. "You always know how to make your sister smile."
Tristeza beamed, but suddenly, a strange feeling crept over her. She sensed the air around them changing, becoming cooler and darker. She looked around, but nothing seemed out of the ordinary. The lush forest scenery surrounding them remained calm, the birds still chirping, and the sky began to change color to orange as dusk approached.
"Dad?" Tristeza's voice trembled slightly with fear.
Marcelo turned to her, "What is it, sweetheart?" he asked, though a hint of worry crept into his heart as well.
Tristeza bit her lip, finding it difficult to express the strange sensation that had suddenly enveloped her. "I don't know… I just feel odd, Dad," she whispered softly, her gaze fixed on the road ahead.
Marcelo paused for a moment, looking more cautiously at the surrounding forest. He tried to calm both himself and his daughter. "Maybe you're just tired; it's been a long journey. We're almost home, don't worry," he said soothingly, though he couldn't shake the growing unease within him.
As they neared the village, the silence began to feel unsettling. Usually, they could hear the sounds of life from afar—dogs barking, roosters crowing, the sounds of people talking and laughing. But this time, there were no sounds at all. Just a deafening silence.
Marcelo halted the horse at the top of a little hill overlooking their village. The sight before him made him gasp.
Smoke rose from several houses, and most of the village looked destroyed. Carts and furniture littered the streets, as if they had been forcefully tossed aside. There were no signs of life—no people walking the streets, no livestock roaming.
"No… this can't be," Marcelo murmured, his eyes wide with disbelief.
Tristeza fell silent, her eyes glued to the village that was once filled with warmth. "Dad... what happened?" her voice barely audible, choked by sudden fear.
Without replying, Marcelo urged his horse down the hill toward the village, panic taking over him. Tristeza clung tightly to the carriage, unable to tear her gaze away from the destruction before them.
As they arrived in the village, the scene became clearer. Burnt houses, bodies sprawled across the streets, some familiar faces—neighbors and friends—now lifeless. Tristeza covered her mouth, nausea rising suddenly within her.
"Dad!" Tristeza screamed as tears began to fill her eyes.
Marcelo immediately jumped down from the carriage and ran toward their home, with Tristeza following closely behind. Their once warm and safe house was now in shambles. The front door was shattered, and inside lay the very sight they had dreaded the most.
Marcelo froze at the threshold, his body tense. "Elisa!" he cried, his voice cracking with panic and sorrow. He ran toward his wife who lay motionless on the floor. Tristeza covered her mouth, her eyes widening at the sight of her mother.
"Mom!" Tristeza ran, but her steps slowed as she took in her mother's body. A body that was once filled with warmth and love now lay lifeless in her own pool of blood.
Marcelo fell to his knees beside his wife, his hands trembling as he touched Elisa's cold face. Tears streamed down his cheeks, his voice breaking as he whispered, "Elisa… no… please…"
Tristeza couldn't say anything. The world around her felt like it was collapsing. She dropped to her knees beside her father, staring at her mother's lifeless face. The crushing reality slowly seeped in— they had lost everything.
A faint voice sounded from the corner of the room. Tristeza looked up and saw the basket shaking. "Sister?" she called, filled with faint hope.
Isabella, pale and trembling, crawled out from the basket where she had hidden. Her eyes were red and swollen from crying. Without a word, she rushed toward Tristeza and hugged her tightly, weeping on her shoulder.