Calluna

Chapter One

The Flower

It's easy to forget I exist when no one can see me.

            Since the day I came into this world sixteen years ago, I have not been able to look someone in the eye. I have not been able to look up and see a smile, a frown, a grimace, or a grin across anyone's face. The look of excitement or joy or anger is unclear in my mind. Only from Father have I seen what a human face looks like up close. Only from Father in the safe, closed, window shut, door locked cottage we live in.

            He's always said that this way is best, for both of us. He says the hood I wear is for my own safety. Ever since the horrid day my mother died, I have been hidden from the world. Father says it's not my fault she died, but it's hard to believe him when he punishes me by keeping me hidden.

            He must have loved her so much more than he loves me. She was able to show her eyes to the world.

            I duck from the cottage quietly and run down the hill, holding my hood tightly to ensure it doesn't flap open and reveal my eyes. That's what my father always said to keep covered, just my eyes. My golden red hair and pale chin sometimes force their way out of the hood, but as Father says, it's always better to be safe and keep those features hidden than risk everything becoming exposed.

            I run quickly behind the crumbling buildings of Pago—the small village I've lived in my entire life—making sure the least amount of people notice me. The girl in the hood. The freak.

            Keeping my eyes low, I try to remember the path of buildings without having to raise my head. It has been nearly two months since I've been in the busy streets of the Pago. These past two months I've been occupied with the harsh heat of the harvest on my father's farm. Father said I needed to stay at the cottage to work on the harvest, keeping me away from village, but I know he was only penalizing me because of the incident the last time I was in the village.

            It was a crowded day, which I couldn't help. My father had been with me, but he had gone into the artisan's shop alone, which left me outside to bear the wind and the stares. I was moving over slightly to allow a man and his horse to get through the street with a large load of limber, when I tripped over a small rock. My hood had fallen back, only for a moment, but long enough for my panicked gaze to rise to the man who was riding his horse. I'd looked him right in his brown eyes, which means he saw mine, too.

            It was only a moment, a small moment, but Father was furious I let it happen and that possibly someone knew about my eyes. Now, he's become stricter with me to always keep my hood drawn tight and never to step foot back in the village. Today, my father doesn't know I'm here.

            Seeing the specific large rock on the path, I turn right then left at the beginning of grass until I find the cracked cobblestone staircase. I climb the steps one by one and knock on the oak door. I flinch as it opens, and a hand takes my arm to guide me in.

            "Little Heather! Why, I haven't seen you in half a year! What a treat."

            The village physician, a woman by the name of Beth, has always referred to me as 'Little Heather.' Heather was my mother's name.

            I've always thought it weird Beth calls me that when she doesn't know if I even look anything like my mother. I suppose she calls me that to be friendly, but sometimes I think she does only because she's forgotten my name.

            Not that it matters. I'm make such rare appearances in the village, I would forget me too. I'm merely a ghost with a hood. My mother was better in all ways. She should have been the one who survived sixteen years ago.