Isabelle (9): Unspoken

The young girl watched from the second story window as the neighboring children playing outside started to return to their beckoning mothers. She didn’t know their names, never even talked to them. She didn’t talk to anyone besides her mother. She wasn’t allowed to.

The girl watched as the setting sun began to paint a swath of alternating hues across the sky. For a moment she imagined what it would be like to fly away from here along the colors, but was cut off by her mother.

“Isabelle, come take your seat. He’ll be here soon,” her mother tried to hide it but the panic in her voice was clear.

Today was her 9th birthday. She should be happy, right? All the other children seemed to be nothing but smiles on their birthdays. She had enjoyed watching their gatherings from her window. Beautiful tapestries hanging from the archways, sweet pastries and most of all the gifts. The most she had ever received was a “new” pair of oversized clothes, to replace the ones she had long since grown out of.

After carefully pulling out the chair next to her mother she sat and waited until the sound of a door latch startled them both.

Surprisingly he appeared to be in high spirits today. A rarity for as far back as her memories go. Something good must have happened at the bank where he was the director.

She looked at her mother, who had a plastered grin on her face that would never reach her eyes.

"Welcome home dear, we are all ready for you," she said with a chipper voice.

Her father smiled, sending chills down their spines. He walked up behind his daughter and placed his hands snugly on her shoulders. She fought the instinct to react, she'd learned the hard way what that would do.

Be a good girl. She thought to herself.

With as much poise as possible she said "Welcome home, daddy, I missed you."

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He let out a breathy laugh, "Oh, I'm sure you did."

His hands started to travel down her arms but he was interrupted by her mother.

"You just be hungry, dear. Let me get you a plate."

He looked at her then smiled, "I'm starving."

With that he walked over to his chair and deeply inhaled the mixture of smells from the roast. Without another word he started to roughly slice off a piece, juice flowing onto the otherwise pristine dish.

Her mother kept glancing at the window as if expecting something. It stood out to her because her mother never took her eyes off her husband, never directly in his eyes, just in his direction.

Almost on cue, a pounding on the door drew their attention. Cursing under his breath about interruptions, her father stood up, straightened his tunic and walked to the door. He made sure to glare at the both of them on the way to the door.

A muffled exchange traveled through the hallway. Though the door was in plain sight, something was muffling their speech. Her father was saying something about a misunderstanding, mental issues from a recent miscarriage, and apologies. His increasingly stern tone told the girl all she needed to know; the man is just making things worse.

He learned that soon when his father grabbed him by the collar and threw him into the room, straight into the table. A rainbow of prepared food and dishes flew through the air. The color drained from her mother’s face along with her hope.

Her father laughed and looked at her mother, "I see you've been talking nonsense again. It seems you've forgotten what would happen if you did. Don't worry, I'll make sure you never forget again."

A blade of wind whirled from her father's hand and he moved to slash the official’s bare neck, brought to a halt by what sounded like a lightning bolt thundering through the house.

Everyone including her father were brought to their knees by an invading terrifying pressure. The girl was on the ground before she could register what had happened, it felt like a giant weight was laying on top of her body, squeezing the air out of her lungs.

Her eyes flickered to the open door, where only darkness had been before, now there were glowing red eyes. The demonic eyes scanned the room, lingering on her spasming father and finally resting on her.

Instantly, the pressure on the two of them was gone and she scrambled to regain her breath. She watched the doorway as a boy clad in all black slowly walked into the house.

Her mother wrapped the girl in her arms, whispering to her through her unending tears. She didn’t hear any of it, all of her attention was on this boy.

Now that she had a better look at him she was entranced. The black horns curling along his face gave the image of a knight’s helmet, an image betrayed by the boy’s clear youth. His skin was a smooth, almost sparkling, grey that emphasized his dazzling red eyes. Very slowly the boy walked over to the two of them, causing her mother to tighten her embrace to the point of suffocation.

He stopped in front of them and bent down to their level. His red eyes scanned every inch of them, lingering on any external wounds he could see. The girl couldn't see his face anymore, but noticed his fists clenching tighter the longer he knelt beside them.

With a deep sigh the boy reached out and placed his hand on the little girl's head.

He spoke in a whisper almost too quiet to hear, "You're safe now."

With that he stood up, causing stray tears to fall into the girl's view.

Struggling against her mother, she tried to look up. But by the time she realized, the boy was gone, she could only see the trio of officials restraining her father. The only evidence that he had even been there was the lingering warmth on top of her head and two tear drops on the hard floor just beyond reach.