I was seven years old, I was small with black hair, fair skin and wide eyes, and I was terrified.
I was clinging to my aunts thin black clad frame tears hot and fresh falling onto my face and rubbing against my aunts wool skirt turning my cheeks an unattractive blotchy red. But I didn’t care. I’ll I cared about was finding my parents, finding them and killing who ever took them. It’s a terrible thing to have your parents stolen from you when your seven years old, and I sincerely hope it never happens to you. The last day I saw them was a Sunday, my favorite day of the week. It was the day we always did things as a family. Maybe we would go to the beach and build sand castle and play in the waves until our clothes were so full of sand and sea salt that we had to go home and take a shower. Or maybe we would go out to the ice cream parlor and I would get a chocolate ice cream with rainbow sprinkles and my dad would get a pistachio ice cream and I would wiggle my tongue and take a lick of it, stick my tounge out at the salty-sweet taste of it and fall back in to licking my own ice cream we would eat ice cream until my little stomach could hold no more and my face and hands were covered in brown sticky ice cream. And through all of this my mom would be clicking away with her handy dandy camera, documenting my every move, every lick of an ice cream, every laugh. But not this day. No, I could tell something very strange was up, some thing I hadn’t known about before. I was about to get whisked up in to a world that I would later regret ever finding, a world that I had belonged to since I was born, a world I should have grown up in but didn’t. My mom was running around the house a crazed look on her face, a look that meant she was terrified, so terrified that she wouldn’t speak to me when I asked her what was wrong. She fumbled with the door knobs, dropped all the papers she was carrying began to cry. I didn’t know what to do, should I comfort her? Should I stand her and watch her run like a mouse stuck in a hamster wheel? Before I could decide what to do my father entered the room. He was my safe house; he was stable and strong, in my mind the most honored man in the world. He was tall and handsome but right now his face was contorted in fear in a way I have never seen it before or would never see again, scared or happy. He began to talk to my mother in a language I didn’t know, quickly and silvery it slid over the air. He picked my mother up a shoved all her papers in to the large trash bag he was carrying along with the photo books that sat on the shelf behind him. I stood in the middle of my house, scared, confused and hurt that I was being ignored in such a crisis. It was then that my parents came over to me and began to talk to me. First my mother hugged me and kissed my cheeks, her wet cheekbones clanking against mine. Then father came up to me and held my shoulders,
“Honey, we are going to play a game. We are going to play hide and seek, remember how to play? You hide and then when we are ready we will come looking for you. But until we come looking for you, you shouldn’t come out of you’re hiding place; it would ruin the fun of the game. Is that okay, Honey?” I nodded, still confused by my Parents frantic behavior,
“Remember; hide well, some where no one will ever find you so that it can be a fun game! And remember don’t come out until we tell you that you can come out or until you see that we find you! We will always love you.” They hugged me and closed there eyes. When I was little hide and seek was my favorite game and I was unnaturally good at it, it was like no one could ever find me if I didn’t want to be found. At the time I didn’t realize this wasn’t just a game of hide and seek and it was the last time I would see my parents.
I hid beneath the sink, one of my favorite hiding places because it had many comforting sounds; the sounds of the dishwashers warm life, the sound of the water dripping in to the sink and you could here the clumping sounds out side if any one walked by. I sat my long strong legs hugged to my chest waiting patiently. Suddenly the door to the outside world blew open and a weird smell, of pine trees and lightning storms flew into the room. It was the smell of magic. Fear like an evil serpent twined around my stomach making it impossible for me to move. Even if I could move wouldn’t. I didn’t want to be found, it was a game, remember? But I knew in my heart that this was no game and some one who my parents feared deeply just opened the door to our house.
“We want her Lukiss, and we want her now” commanded a deep, angelic voice that I couldn’t recognize,
“No, Never, she’s not here. She’s with the clan, we gave he to the clan to be trained” Said my father, fear rippling tangibly in his strong voice,
“You lie!” hissed the strange voice, malice in his words. There was a loud, pained, terrified sream of agony then…
“Tell the truth! And tell it now!” Shouted the Strange voice, his words pointed at my father, mean and evil. My father tried to catch his breath but didn’t say anything, silent but for labored breaths.
“Maybe you need more of an incentive, hmmm?” There were a few short screams, some scrambling sound of my father flying to his feet,
“Let her go you son of a troll!” shouted my father, “take me! Take me instead, just don’t hurt my wife!” his voice pleaded with his very life,
“Well looks like old Bad-Guy here has found strong Lukiss’s weak spot, eh?” his voice was playful, sing song,
“Let her go!” shouted my father; it sounded like he was being restrained by others. Maybe the talker had others with him.
“Lukiss, I don’t want to hurt any one there needn’t be any blood shed to day, I just want the girl,” his voice was no longer sarcastic, it was dead serious,
“I’ve got a knife pressed to your dear wife’s throat right now and if you try to use magic I will kill her.” He said to my father. Magic? My father had no magic to my knowledge; he was just my old dad who could cook the best hot chocolate in the world. An anguished cry escaped my father’s lips.
“Don’t give her to him, Lukiss!” a cry escaped my mother,
“Shut your mouth Elfen!” shouted the unknown man,
“We will never give her to you, never! She will never be yours!” screamed my father, his agony filled voice echoing through the small walls of the cupboard I was sitting in. silent tears leaked out of my eyes and rolled down my cheeks leaving scorching marks were they rolled of my face.
“Bind there hands! Take them both,” command the evil voice of the unknown stranger. There were more screams, cries of agony, pleadings, offers of money, power. Nothing worked; both of my beloved parents were dragged off out of the house, out of my life for ever.
It was then, in the dark of my cupboard with the sound of the dishwasher and smalls of lavender pot soap that I swore, I swore upon my parents love for me that I would find and kill the man who stool my parents from me and I would avenge my parents deaths.
I swore it in my own blood.