There’s this story I have, been keeping it inside my head for a while and I thought I’d like to write it down where I can make it tangible. Got the inspiration from this fanfic I read a while ago but I want to add my own twist to it.

 

Here we go:

 

A strange girl was found in the middle of the forest. Skin as pale as the sands of Navagio, without a speck of freckle or pigmentation. No hint of blemish marring her skin. Almost eerily so. Her hair was the colour of early January, when the world was blanketed by thick folds of snow. The  silvery-blonde strands of hers would glitter under the sun, the way snowflakes do when they caught the first tell-tale of morning ray. An unearthly presentation that people might have speculate as a trick of the eye. Only it was not. Her eyes the perfect opalescent of budding leaves. It was the colour of life, and she rightfully resembled it. The perfect symmetry of her face, the dimension of her profile, while easily found in many other beauties made extremely flawless by photo editing, hers was the one that stick inside your mind like a song on repeat.

 

The perfect embodiment of Nature’s most prized attraction, you can see it all in her. An angel, one dared point, in flesh.

 

But…no one expects an angel to set the world on fire, especially someone like her.   

 

***

 

She doesn’t have a name, or memories. So for the sake of the story let’s just call her Mary Sue. Mary was saved by the Bakers during their hunt. For the Baker family, hunting was a sport and only the manliest of the family members were invited to join in the quest for taking down game. At the time, there were only few of them, the eldest and another 2. The rest was forced to stay back and do house chores, much to their disagreement. The Baker family was huge, mainly because Mr Baker himself likes to adopt strays just to give them shelter and teach survival skills. It was one of his many vices.

 

Upon setting his eye on the strange girl, unconscious on the forest floor, his fatherly instinct kicked in. He ordered James, the eldest son (yes, adopted from the street) to check on her impulse while forcing the rest to scan the environment for her belongings. Surely, there must be some of her stuff lying around. But the whole situation was strange, much too strange for him to take in. Mary was as clean as clean could be, even while curled in fetal position on the dirt, her almost-too-white hair curtaining her face. When their search turned futile, he decided to take her home and welcome her into the family.

 

Mary was the 7^th addition to the Baker family. 7 being the lucky number, and unlucky too.  

 

Upon waking up, they learnt that she could not speak. Her steps weak, like a newborn baby. They struggled to keep up with her as much as she did with them. Mrs Baker was the most patient of them all. When she refused to eat or go out of the attic-turned-makeshift room, the old lady kindly waited outside until Mary gave up and let her in. Determination always won out, Mrs Baker always said when everyone complained about Mary. But it was her determination also that killed her in the end.

 

It was a few weeks or so later when they all finally shattered the thick barrier erected around that strange girl. It was an effortless unconscious group effort, coincidental too. The day was sunny, much too sunny for spring. It was too sinful to even stay indoor so they all decided to have a picnic outside. Mrs Baker, the only peacemaker in the house invited Mary to go out with them but was not surprised to be turned down by the mere silence at the door. So they went out and had fun. They did not go far, just camping out near the huge birch tree around 3 meters away from the house. At their absence, Mary finally discovered the dreadful silence. It was like a void that tried to consume her. All this time, she realized, the Bakers were always around, their chatters and laughters and banters leaking through the narrow space under the door. She picked up languages just from that. But that day she heard nothing the whole sun up. Anxiety ate at her. She began hating the small 4X4 space she considered her sanctuary from the world outside. Funny that she thought that. You’ll know why later.

 

When the Bakers finally arrived, too close at sun down, Mary was waiting anxiously in the family room. The temptation to run back and hide in her room was great, but it dissolved when she felt relief at seeing them back home safely. It was a weird sensation.

 

“What took you so long?” she asked, her eyes red from crying.

 

They were all too dumbfounded to see her. One, she was finally speaking, a full coherent sentence at that. Two, she was outside her room and wearing the wrong side of shirt and cargo pants full of holes belonging to Grey, the third of the seven. Everyone could see the effort she put on trying to dress herself without help. And three, seeing her again under the natural light stole their breath collectively. It made them rethink their previous trepidation at having to care for her like a spoiled child (except for Mr and Mrs Baker). Mrs Baker was the first to snap off and quickly hugged her. Then Mr Baker followed suit. The rest half-heartedly did so, after being shot dirty look by their father. 

 

She had dinner together with the family that night. The brothers made no attempt to conceal their amazement at seeing her despite having to squeeze themselves trying to fit at the dinner table meant for 4. Jane, the only female sibling and the fifth to be adopted was helpful throughout their fragile bond. She was actually glad to have another female in the brood for companion. But sometimes she could not help but feel jealous eating her up when she saw her brothers treated Mary better than her. In just a month, Mary had all her brothers by her fingers. They were probably charmed by her beauty and effortless grace. Jane was a complete opposite of that. She was tomboyish and repelled anything effeminate. When it was Mary’s turn to do house chore, few of her brothers will trail after her, offering their help. Naturally, Mary would decline and quietly excuse herself for work. That fact made Jane angry at herself for being jealous at her. She was a bundle of contradiction, that girl who likes to dress in stolen shirts of Dylon.

 

Dylon, the second son was the most persistent of all her brothers, but harmless. They all knew Dylon was a major flirt, partly thanks to his good genetics that gave him that perfect-boy-next-door look and proportionate build. Mary was the first one to ever buff his advances with a straight face, and still looked desirable at the same. Jane, who secretly harboured a crush on Dylon was overwhelmed by anger and envy. How could Mary turn him down? What a stupid . That was her first time calling another girl . The name stuck on Mary until the day she breathed her last breath inside the bottom of lake near the corner of their home.

 

Bad things always happen on good days. It was because people do not expect it. The knife slipped from her hand, Jane claimed. It was all the same excuse really, to cover up their real motive. Well, that knife which Jane held minutes ago slipped past Mary and grazed her left cheek. There was no one around in the kitchen, just the two. Mrs Baker was out accompanying her husband on an errand at town. Dylon and Grey went out for a swim at the river not too far from their home. James was upstairs studying for the university entrance test. The troublesome duo, Sam and Ethan was out for a walk in the woods, probably up to pranking innocent trackers with their silly antics.   

 

If you are smart and could see through Jane, then I guess it was safe to spoil everything and confirm what you foresee is the same as what happened next.   

 

The graze was deep enough to bleed, only that Mary did not bleed. She was just there, standing wide-eyed like a deer on headlight. Jane was the one who screamed, alerting James, sending him rushing downstairs frantically. The cut skin shifted, the epidermis reattaching itself until a faint white line was seen. Before anyone could say a word, Jane snatched another knife lying on the table and wounded herself before tossing it onto the floor, just in time for James to come down and see what had happened.

 

Shouts erupted. Accusations shot back and forth. Mary, too shocked to fend for herself became the victim. James took Jane’s side, since she was the one who was wounded. The second sensation registered itself in Mary. Rage. It was an agonizing feeling, like being swallowed by inferno. It made her see red-hot. She stalked out of the house, dashing past Dylon and Grey who just came back from their swim. They were surprised to see her running uncharacteristically flustered, but was even more surprised by what was waiting inside. A bleeding Jane and half-cooked story about how Mary wounded her. Any normal person could see through the bluff, like Dylon and Grey. They both argued with James’s logic, and Jane’s accusation. Profanities bled through their otherwise clipped and curt argument and when the first punch was thrown everything be damned.

 

It became a full-blown fight between brothers and I dare say a lot of blood was spilled that day.

 

Mary left the trail and ventured into the woods. She had ran a good distance from home. Her heart was beating much too fast, either from the sprint or the rage still coursing through her blood. The moment she stepped into the forest, oh you would not believe what I tell you. It was like coming back home, her real home, that feeling. It swept into her, nursing her aching heart until all she could feel was numbness. The forest welcomed her home, like an old friend. The trees extended their canopy to shelter her from the sun. The wind swept through her to wipe the beads of perspiration from her skin. The cry of joy from the critters resounded through the space, orchestrating the spring tune to lift her spirits up. Mary rested against a big plain tree, enjoying the welcome celebration and was soon fast asleep.

 

The brothers were on house arrest while Mr Baker tried to ask the police help to locate Mary. She had been missing for few days now. The fight left more than just few broken noses and trust. The brothers were divided. Sam and Ethan gladly sit this one out if it meant taunting both sides into getting into a fight with each other again. Little devils, those two.

 

Mrs Baker was heartbroken. Despite what had happened to Jane, she just wanted to see Mary back home safely and listen to her side of story. She was not willing to blindly trust Jane’s accusation, like what James did. That evening a search team set out and scoured every possible places. When they hit the forest at night, they were surprised by what they discovered.

 

Mary, sound asleep. The veins had knotted themselves around her body, forming a cocoon of warmth to shield her against the cold. But there was no way the police officers knew these. All they could guess was she somehow had gotten herself knotted with those veins and had fallen asleep trying to untangle herself. But knowing Mary, such stupid thing would never occur to her. How stupid for those mortal men to speculate such idiotic theory. Mary was brought back home. She was silent for the longest time. Nobody dared to say anything, not even Jane.

 

“I was innocent.”

 

Those three words were verdict, you see, spoken with firm and hard voice. She did not waver as she stared at everyone in the eyes, even Jane’s.

 

“If you’re innocent, then why did you have to run away from home?” James shot. Everyone noticed the acid in his voice, and the weird nasal sound from his broken nose.

 

“I have found my real home.”

 

Those another six words were also verdicts, spoken with the same tone and confidence when she announced her innocence. She will leave, she said, and never come back for this was not her home. Everyone was puzzled. Mrs Baker tried to reason with her but Mary turned everything down with a firm shake of her head.

 

“Well, at least stay here for the night. It’s awfully cold out there,” Mr Baker offered.

 

But it was not so cold, she thought. But she kept that to herself. Mrs Baker made her favourite dishes for supper. As if good food was enough to bribe her into changing her mind. Not when the forest feeds her. The conversation revolving around the dinner table was stiff and animated but everyone dared not break character. When it was time to go to bed, she went inside the attic, the space she claimed her bedroom for the past few months. Soon it shall return to its former glory. An attic. Just an attic.

 

Mary was not yet asleep when the door creaked open. And walked in James. She was barely off the bed when he pushed her down and covered with his hand, erasing her ability to scream. Few white strips of cloth, that very simple object could do wonders when utilized properly, like tying shut and binding her hands onto the bed post. She struggled, fear coursing through her blood sending chills down her spine.

 

She screamed, or at least she tried to. If she did, which I’m really positive was what happened, they might’ve sounded something like this:  

 

What are you trying to do? Release me at once!

 

James was about to do what you expected him to do. I will not spell it down for you, dear reader. It would’ve been fun if there was someone to save her that night, a knight in shining armour. Dylon fit that role nicely don’t you think?

 

But sadly, reality doesn’t work that day. It’s a , the kind that tears down that hope you build up inside yourself when you coax yourself up from the slump you faced.

 

First the pain. Then the flame. The flame was literal. Sparks of fire just erupted out of nowhere, lighting the thin curtain that covers the barely-there window of her room on fire. It also lit James’s abandoned pants, and the only piece of cloth he was wearing, that dreaded striped boxer which was resting against his ankle. He screamed when the fire his skin. Mary watched the fire grew, eating away anything in its path as fuel whilst leaving her alone from the path of destruction. The fire burned the cloth that bind her hands and she could free herself up in no time. James was still dancing intimately with the fire, every inch of his body passionately devoured by that fiery inferno the same way he tasted her skin. A favour returned.

 

Mary ran out of her room and the fire let her. At this time, the commotion was loud enough to rouse everyone from their sleep. Mr Baker was shouting instruction, trying to get all his children safely out of the house while the fire greedily ate up the very foundation of the Baker family. All was fine, but amidst the chaos, he actually forgot about his wife. That damned old man.

 

Poor Mrs Baker, her determination to save that house was what actually killed her. I was sure nobody noticed that she hauled few buckets of water from the bathroom and tried to douse the fire herself before suffocation took her away. It was both brave and foolish. But we don’t blame her for at least trying. Everyone was literally trying to save their own skin.

 

Mary found herself standing near the lake behind their house, watching the house burn down. It was breath-taking, seeing that hellish colour mar the dark night sky with fiery shades. As she was admiring the view, Jane found her and took no time to throw another accusation. Behind her, the troublesome duo trailed along, looking uncomfortably sick.

 

“Are you glad now that you burnt the house down?!”

 

 A slap across the face. It cracked with the intensity of a colliding train that Mary’s face was whipped aside. And then another. And another. Jane shoved her down until they both were on the ground. The girl was so distraught, so out of her mind by grief that whatever came was pure gibberish. Even a three year old could speak better. Ethan and Sam tried to pull her apart. For once, that was the most sensible thing they ever did. Jane pushed both away and lunged again at Mary.

 

‘She was mad. Maybe a little water could calm her down.’ At that thought, a distorted body of water conjured itself, rising 5 feet into the air from the lake and moved towards Jane’s direction at breakneck speed. It consumed her, the same way the fire consumed James and pulled her into the lake bed and refused to let her go. Trying to kick herself free from the tight embrace, she accidently let go of her breath, losing precious air and drawing in water into the lungs. Her body grew colder and heavier. By the time she left, she was as calm as dead.

 

The troublesome duo lost their wits and had scrambled away the moment the incident happened. Mary just lied there on the ground, the evidence of assault slowly healing while she admired the stars on the night sky.

 

“Mary, can I lie there beside you?”

 

She nodded, as if it was expected, but never broke the gaze from the view above. Dylon took the place beside her. Soot covered him in some places, but he still smelled like that sandalwood cologne she secretly liked.

 

“I don’t know what happened but Sam and Ethan were scared less.” A sad sigh escaped his chapped lips. A look of exasperation was peeking beneath that careful gaze. “Are you okay?”

 

She nodded. Noticing he could not see her in the dark, she answered a quiet yes.

 

“Good. I was so worried about you.” A trail of sob accompanied him. “So…so worried. I can’t afford to lose you too...” He broke apart. Placed a hand to cover the tears pooling in his eyes. The cry sounded so weak, so pathetic. It was so unlike Dylon who was energetic and full of life. But as much as she wanted to stay there a bit longer, the forest called. It was time to go home. Her real home.

 

She whispered her goodbye, and placed a tender kiss on his forehead. His sobs grew strained but he pushed himself up and cupped the side of her face before placing a desperate kiss onto her damp lips. The kiss spoke of loss and desperation, of hope and new beginning.  It held too much meaning that Mary lost her breath trying to decipher the gist held behind that intimate gesture. The scent of soot lingering reminded them of the tragedy, yet the morning light peeking through the horizon held promises of new beginning.

 

“Will you stay?”

 

==THE END==