Last Second Of Magic (Wendinia version)

Chapter 1 : Red-Bloody Red

The flames from the kitchen roamed through the room, swallowing everything on its way, including the precious things my mother had left me and my twin sister. The Flame is red and the world is as dark as ash. Everywhere in my mind is full of screaming and cries, and the pain is trying to tear me apart, the painfulness is a dark blue, mysterious, unusual and cold.

It was our father who first smelt the burning smoke, then spotted the flames from our window, and shoved me and Feronia into the basement. The basement is dark and black, with cobwebs everywhere. Even though Feronia looks calm, I know that she's worried about our Father, a kind man who was brave and courageous, only the bright orange is good enough to represent him.

We stayed there, waiting for the wooden door to slam open by our father. Finally it did, but it was not Father, it was Step-Mother. She stared at us angrily, like those mixture of red and black. I smirked, now she's going to blame everything on us, even though, really, she started the fire by not paying attention to the oven. Me and Step-Mother just glared at each other, while Feronia, my dear sister, glared at the wooden door. I can tell she's nervous, those dark aqua colour in her eyes will only show when she's nervous.

The waiting time is a dark green, peaceful but a bit nervous, After something like a decade, the basement door slammed open, the exciting moments are those brown orange. I let out a little screech as our Father appeared at the door and collapsed. My jaws dropped and Feronia Frowned slightly, but I realized that, I had also realized that our Step-Mother didn't show any expression, nothing at all, I sometimes wonder if she actually loves Father.

We quickly lift him up and locked the door. Father is mumbling a few words, something like how much he love us and stuff. We laid him flat on an old mattress that use to belong to our Mother. He soon closed his eyes and started snoozing. I bit my lips so I didn't cry, I can see Feronia feeling the same, it's one of those sad, pale blue colour with those flames of anger burning inside.

Me and Feronia took a few steps back as our Step-Mother, took a few steps forward to Father. We are both glaring at her every action. She looked all over Father's body and found a few bottles of stuff, food, water and a small pack of jewels. I recognized the jewels as soon as Step-Mother tip the little bag over. They are our Mother's dowry! I lowered my my neck into my orange scarf which dragged all the way to the back of my knees, and I closed my fist as the knuckles started to crack under the white gloves. I was just about to ask step-mother to give us the bag when we heard a loud thud from the door. We all turned.

Feronia and i blocked the entrance with whatever we can find down here and crossed our fingers while waiting for our fate to save us. The room is quiet, like those dark grey silence.

We waited and waited, when we guessed the fire had passed, we stepped out of the shelter to see what almost broke me and my twin.

Where there was once a house, the only remainder is broken bricks and wood piled up on the ground. When we showed people the cottage, they would gasp and shower us with praises. Now, I highly doubt they'll do the same. Almost all of the furniture are now ashes, those dark coloured sadness and the blue disappointment ran over me and my sister.

The best part about the house was the flower garden. Our mother adored roses when she was still alive. She bought seeds from the village and planted them in the gardens, and the neighbours will very regularly praise her for her love towards the plants.

Every spring and fall they would bloom and the garden was magnificent in shades of white, red, blue and many other colors. That's probably the only place in our house where I can't think of a colour to represent the whole situation. The blue ones are sad, the red ones are confident, white ones are pure and kind, I just can't think of a colour to represent them all, I might get too emotional and there might be pain striking my brain if I did.

Back when we were still young, Feronia and I used to pick them and sell them at the local market down the street to support our livings. Every now and then, we used to sneak away a few coins and spend them on toys and snacks.

After our mother's death, only Feron and I kept the flowers alive. Our stepmother wanted to get rid of them but our father was on our side. We still sell them at the markets and our stepmother would take most of the money to spend on 'groceries', as if she thought that we are little kids that don't know that she had spend most of them on her parties with friends in the town. We used our money, which is barely any, to buy weapons from the shop in the village. That's how Feron's bow, arrow and knife, and my two swords existed.

Now what's left of the once beautiful garden is only broken bricks and dirt. I collapsed on to the ground and buried my face in my knees as I saw the green lucky clover I had planted was now teared into pieces and mixed with ashes. "Wendinia......" Feron called my name softly as she gently patted my shoulder.

We stood there, for I don't remember how long, looking at the pile of ruins that we once called home. The sun is setting now and the bright, warm colours mixed with red, orange, yellow, pink, purple and others filled the air. But all I felt is emptiness, those metallic blue mixed with dark teal. I sighed, "Where are we gonna go next?" I questioned myself.

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ShallowSnodrop