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0.69% Garden Of Poison / Chapter 2: Calm before the rising storm

Chapter 2: Calm before the rising storm

In one of the peaceful villages named Hawkshead, on one of the early afternoons, two young girls sat on the back stairs of their humble home. They were sisters who were thicker than blood. The elder sister Marianne was thirteen years old, sitting on the upper stair, brushing her younger sister Anastasia's hair, who was three years younger than her.

The younger one sang, "Two feet hopping front and back, twirling and running, ah ah ahhh…" She took a deep breath, while the elder one ran the comb and braided her sister's wavy brown hair, which was similar to hers. "Little buds waiting to bl-ummm," she hummed softly.

"Bloom, Anna," Marianne corrected her sister, which had Anastasia furrow her eyebrows.

"That is what I said," Anastasia replied as if not knowing the difference because it sounded the same to her.

Tying the ends of her sister's hair with a blue ribbon, Marianne placed her hands on Anastasia's shoulders and said, "Your hair is all done."

Anastasia turned excited. Raising her hand, she touched her braided hair and said excitedly, "It's all pretty!"

Marianne smiled, shaking her head because her sister hadn't even looked at the braid in the mirror or in the glass window to know if her hair was made well. She said,

"Turn around so that I can place the flowers," picking the tiny purple flower they had plucked from the forest together, Marianne pushed one of them on the side of Anastasia's hair. The younger girl picked the rest of the flowers and placed them into her elder sister's hair. "I already have the flowers, Anna."

"Not enough! You should have more, Mary! You will look like a fairy, you will see," Anastasia used her small hands to place the flowers with utmost concentration so they wouldn't come off when they would later play in the fields.

"Mary! Anna! Go see where your father is," came their mother's voice from inside the house before she stepped near the back door wearing an old apron around her waist. Both the girls jumped on their feet and were quick to run, missing their mother's next words, "Wear your shoes!" She sighed.

"Such lively girls. They are going to be a handful once they grow up, Margaret," said the neighbour, watching the two young girls disappear from sight.

"They are," Margaret Flores agreed with a smile, while rubbing her enlarged belly as she and her family were expecting one more child.

The two young girls ran towards the forest with their bare feet stepping on the muddy, grassy land, while not bothering about the sticks and stones their tender feet stepped on. They raced, laughing in fits of giggles, until they saw their father coming from the opposite side. An axe was tied to the side of his waist, while he carried logs of wood on his shoulder.

"Papa!" The girls screamed in excitement upon seeing him.

"Careful there!" Hugh Flores warned his daughters because this side of the ground was hindered by the roots of the old trees that had pushed themselves out of the soil. But his warning came a second late, as his youngest daughter's foot got stuck between the ground and the root, causing her to fall flat on the forest ground. "Oh, dear!" He was quick to drop the logs of wood from his shoulder to come and help his youngest.

But before he could help, Anastasia was quick to sit up, as she was used to tripping, falling, and getting up. Marianne stretched her hand and helped her sister to stand. Their father kneeled and dusted his youngest daughter's dress, which was now smeared in mud.

"I am okay, papa," Anastasia said to her father, even though she winced when she touched her forehead.

Mr. Flores unrolled the shirt of his sleeve and pressed it against his daughter's forehead because the handkerchief he had carried from home was covered in sweat. Pursing his lips, he asked, "What did I tell you girls about being careful in the forest?"

"Forgive us, papa," Marianne apologised. Concerned, she asked her sister, "Are you alright?"

"I am, I am!" Anastasia nodded before wincing again as her father's sleeve rubbed against her forehead.

Mr. Flores stared into his youngest's big light brown eyes, who innocently stared back at him, and he said, "Don't you both look lovely with those flowers in your hair? Stay here." Saying this, he went back to pick up the logs of wood he had dropped earlier, carrying it back on his shoulder.

In the meantime, Marianne noticed her sister touching her hair at their father's compliment, only to make the flower fall from her hair. Soon their father reached where they stood, offering his hand to Anastasia to hold and saying, "Let us hold each other's hands so that no one falls."

On their way, Anastasia pointed to her father, "Papa, look. Marianne looks like a fairy."

"You both do, my dear," Mr. Flores included her so that his daughters would grow up knowing they were both dear to him and his wife.

Marianne had acquired his wife's pale skin and green eyes, while Anastasia had acquired his olive skin. As good as the people of the village of Hawkshead were, there were times some of them remarked about the difference between his two daughters' appearances. Where in their eyes, one was considered favourable, and the other not so much.

He heard his eldest daughter tell his youngest, "When we reach home, we are going to add some flowers in your hair. You will be a better fairy."

"With wings?" Anastasia beamed in eagerness.

Suddenly Mr. Flores and the girls heard the tower bell being rung continuously. The sound of the bell echoed all across the village, a warning that was being sent out, and Mr. Flores grabbed his daughter's hand and said,

"Something must have happened. Come quick," his footsteps fastened, and so did the girls, as they noticed worry starting to mar their father's face.

When they entered the village, Mr. Flores noticed the commotion as their village was being invaded by men who sat on horses and had a rugged look of appearance. Some of the brutes had scars, while some wore bandanas tied around their heads. These men weren't just intruders, but they were pirates!

The villagers were shouting, while some cried for help as one of the young girls was snatched away from their parents and being pushed into a carriage cart that looked nothing less than a cage.

"Capture the young girls and women! Put them all in the cage!" The leader of the pirates ordered his man gruffly and jumped down from his horse. His beard around his chin was braided.

Mr. Flores quickly dropped the logs of wood, and he caught both his daughter's hands before pulling them towards their home. He made sure no one saw them so that they wouldn't be caught. Screams and shouts echoed in the village, along with the tower bell that continued to ding to alert the people of Hawkshead.

"What's going on, Hugh?!" Mrs. Flores inquired on seeing her husband. He locked the doors when he and their daughters stepped inside the house.

Both the young girls held startled and stunned looks, not knowing what was happening. They stuck to each other closely.

"The pirates have attacked the village! We need to hide the girls! There's no time!" Mr. Flores hurriedly said to his wife, wanting to protect his family. But before Mrs. Flores took a step, the main door of their house was kicked open, and three pirate men appeared at the door. One of them was the pirate leader.


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