Maeve

ChapterSix: An Outsider

"Mama!"

The screams were coming from the mouth of a young girl who was four summers old. She opened her mouth to scream again.

"Mama, Willie kicked me! He needs to apologize."

Alison laughed before responding.

"Why would William kick you? What did you do Maeve?"

"Nothing! I pr-promise. He kicked me because I stopped him from killing a frog."

"William." Alison knew she wouldn't have to raise her voice in order for her children to hear her. There was no yelling needed. Moments later, William appeared in the forest.

"Did you kick your sister?"

"N-no."

Alison raised an eyebrow and peered down at her son. He had a nervous expression, which told Alison that his words were less than truthful.

"You know how I feel about lying, William. Always speak the truth, my son."

"Yes mother," the young boy replied, casting a look to the ground.

"So, did you kick Maeve?"

Reluctantly, the boy responded.

"Y-yes."

"Why did you do it?"

"Because - because she's an outsider! No one really likes her; she's just too naive and friendly to everyone. And everything."

"So you thought she deserved to be punished because she didn't want to watch a frog die? And you thought you should be the to do the punishing?"

"HE IS MY FRIEND!" Maeve screamed, verging on hysteria.

"Frogs can't be your friends. They are animals, and they don't speak," William was getting angry at Maeve. She was even more naive than he thought.

"Yes, th-they do! He begged me to save him."

"Frogs can't speak."

"Yes, they can!" Maeve was insistent. Why couldn't Will just listen to her?

"Stop this nonsense at once!"

Alison had finally had enough of listening to her children bicker at each other, especially when it was over something as silly as a talking frog.

"William, will you come with me to chop some firewood?"

"Yes, mother."

Alison took her son's hand in her own and they began the trek into the woods. They walked past ponds and cliffs; rocks and too many trees to count. Alison had always loved this place. It was the oldest part of the forest. You could smell it in the air.

"Maeve has always been different," she started. There was a good reason as to why she had pulled her son to the woods. He needed to hear a few facts about his sister.

"What do you mean?"

"She's always been able to think only the best of everyone. Her imagination is something extraordinary. We both know that animals can't speak, and yet her imagination is telling her that they can, and that they do it to her. I can't bear the thought of crushing an imagination such as hers. She's only five years old."

"Someone should just tell her the truth already. If you can't do it, I can be the one."

"Oh, my dearest William. You are like your father in every way. But, no. You cannot tell her. She'll realize the truth on her own, when she's old enough."