I was a normal little girl once, with bouncing black pigtails and wide innocent green eyes, the same color as my mother's; something I was very proud of, and would tell everyone about. I remember the way my mother would smile and giggle when I would say my eyes made me just like her. Even my father would smile then, and tell me that my kind heart was what made me just like her.
I remember the nights when my mother would read me stories of princess and far off lands, but even better, I remember my father's stories. About four brothers who after a disagreement with their father lead to the banishment of one, the others soon went their own way after. Of how their family was never the same after that.
The oldest who stayed at home like he was meant to, doing everything his father asked of him even when it made him unhappy, the second to youngest following after hanging on his every word. I never much liked the idea of being tied down by that kind of duty though as I got older, I grew to understand why someone would stay somewhere that filled them with such unhappiness. Too much like your mother, my father would tell me.
The second oldest who was made to leave the only home he had ever known, created black eyed children. These so called children, my father warned me of, telling me that if I was to ever come across one I was to stay away from it. It would not be until later that I would learn why. This man's story made me sad, it seemed like all he had wanted was for his father to love him, and for it he was pushed away. By both his brothers and his father.
The last and youngest of the brothers ran away from home to get away from all of the fighting. Becoming something like a God, making mischief everywhere he went. But he also punished those who had done my father spoke of him last, he spoke with the most respect for him. Always unlucky in love, often second choice, if chosen at all. Using good humor to cover all of his hurt. That sounded very much like what I would later learn life was like.
And so that is how I grew up, listening to stories about a saddened God, imprisoned King, a loyal General, and a Follower...
But those were the days before the accident. The days before my world fell apart before my eyes.
I was eight years old sitting in the backseat of my mother's car. We sang along to the songs on the radio as we waited for the light to turn green. I remember those last few moments of happiness in a way I don't think I will ever remember anything else. I remember the way my mother's hair shined in the sunlight as if it was on fire and the way she smelled like peaches and cookie dough. We looked up at each other and I saw her sparkling eyes dance with happiness as she smiled at me. And then nothing, at least until I woke later as I was being pulled from my mother's car.
I blinked the fuzziness from my eyes and mind and called out for my mother. As I took in the wreckage that was all around me. The smell of burning metal and blood staining my young mind.
"Mama! Where is my Mama?" I begged the fireman who held me in his arms trying to look me over.
Thinking back on it now he must have been rather young if not very new to the job. I say this because he looked at me sadly and told me that my mother was gone. Dead. Never coming back… Though I was little, I knew how dying worked. My father had told me, upsetting my mother greatly since she wanted me to grow up as much a child as I could. That is, before I had to learn that there very well could be monsters living under my bed. This was the greatest mistake the man could have ever made, being the one to tell me this kind of news.
That was the day I stopped being just a normal little girl, not because my mother died. No, because in that moment, the power I never knew I had, swept out of my small body in my despair and wrapped a cold hand around all of the men who had come to help me and took from them their last breath.
That would later be how my father found me, drawn in by both the feel of my power and the number of reapers that had been drawn to one place. He found me holding on to the hand of my dead mother staring at her though haunted eyes. My father, however, was not the first to find me.
Following the wave of power that left my small body, and as I called out for someone to help me, a man appeared before me. He had brown curly hair and sad but kind brown eyes, that held an apology I would not understand, until I learned of my own creation.
"It's alright, sweet one." His voice was soft and comforting in a way that made me want to throw myself into his arms, but fear of hurting this man like I did the others held me where I was.
Likely reading the fear and hesitation in my eyes, his own turned even more sad. Sighing, he bent at the knees to be better able to speak to me and opened his arms.
"Come here, little one. You can't hurt me."
I threw myself into his arms and I cried and cried, holding tightly to him as if he may disappear. But all he did was hold me and whisper softly, trying to bring some kind of comfort for my younger self.
" Persephone, my dear…" But I interrupted him.
"You know my name?" I asked him confusion coloring my voice.
"Of course I know your name, Persephone Gwyneth James, whose favorite color is sky blue and who likes to sneak cookies when her mommy is not looking. How could I not know you?" He smiled and poked my tummy making me smile.
"But how?"
"Because, I'm Chuck." He told me, smiling and winking at me as if at eight I was meant to have any idea what that meant.
"Now Persephone, I have to go. But you won't be alone for long your daddy is coming and he'll take you home, I just wanted to make sure that you were ok…" What I didn't know then was that when he looked up over my head he met the fearful glare of a Demon.
"I want my Daddy." I sniffled looking up at him tears once more coming to the surface.
"I know and he's coming, won't be long now. But before I go, I need to tell you something, this…" He gestured to the carnage around us, "Was not your fault. None of it. You may not understand that now, but it's not."
He put his hand under my chin as I looked down, because this was my fault I did this. I took the life of all these men because I was sad that my mommy was gone. Chuck sighed as he looked at me, opening his mouth to say something, then changing his mind.
"Look, sweet girl… Things are going to be hard from here on out, but I need you to remember something for me, can you do that for me?" He asked me and I nodded my head wanting to make this man proud of me.
"You, are stronger than you know, and no one ever has the power to choose your path for you. You will always be who you are, not what anyone else says."
Chuck smiled at me and kissed my forehead before disappearing, leaving me with nothing but the lifeless, and the knowledge that I was alone once more.
