A knock at the door roused Roskva from a dead-like sleep. She sat up, no recollection of where she was or why.

“Roskva, time to get up.” Aneira’s voice called through the door, before their steps crept back down the hall. Then Roskva’s memory returned to them. This was her room. She was in her modest bed, the sheets and bed covers still tucked in as if no one had slept in them at all. Despite the fact that Roskva was under them.

She yanked the blankets off, roughing them up so they looked used. She hoisted her nightgown over her head and tossed it carelessly to the floor with the rest of the clothes that were worn and in need of washing. Her room felt skeletal, with the single bed in the center, a dresser, and a full length mirror that Roskva had to beg for. Aneira was hesitant to let Roskva have anything from the main bedroom that they now occupied but legend has it, once belonged to their parents.

Roskva dressed herself in her modest dress and apron and a pair of thick knit stockings for the work. Taking her hair brush and looking into the full length mirror. She loved bright, sunny colors and everything in her wardrobe reflected that. Even her skin showed the healthy glow of being in the sunshine. Her hair was black but that only complimented the rest of Roskva’s sunny outlook. Everything looked sunny and bright and cheerful… except her scars.

Looking into the mirror she inspected the nasty deep scarring over her left eye. Leaving her blind in that eye. The scar started just above her eyebrow and lashed out above her cheekbone. Worst of all, Roskva couldn’t remember how she got it. She couldn’t remember not having it. Aneira was no help in the matter either, they’d always change the subject or snap at them to do something useful.

Roskva tied her short hair back with a bright orange headband and brushed her fringe over her scars. She couldn’t see out of that eye anyways, and at least this way Aneira wouldn’t openly stare at it angrily.

Ready for her day, Roskva threw open her door with a crash and ran like an elephant down the stairs. Preparing breakfast in the kitchen, Aneira didn’t even turn to look at them.

“Good morning,” they said.

“Morning!!” Roskva yelled cheerfully. Jumping onto the counter.

“Not so loud, don’t sit on the counter.” Aneira said without even the smallest hint of any real emotion. They worked at a loaf of bread dough so gently it was a wonder the dough was taking shape at all.

“Right, cause I’ll wake the neighbors right?” Roskva laughed, knowing they had no neighbors. Aneira didn’t laugh.

“So.” Roskva cleared her throat. “Anything… special… planned for today?” She asked hopefully.

“You have to do your chores, Roskva.” Aneira said.

“Right, right, right.” Roskva laughed nervously. “But after that?”

“After that is breakfast.” Aneira said. “And yes. I did remember your birthday.”

“Yes!” Roskva squeaked. “Are we doing something? Did you get me something? Is it a surprise?! Are we having a surprise party??”

“Quietly Roskva.” Aneira said. Taking the bread loaf and putting it into the bowl to rise. Everything about Aneira was opposite of Roskva. Aneira never saw the sun and it showed. With pale skin that was white as snow. Their eyes were black and sunken and sullen. Wearing all black, and the only thing that wasn’t black was the dark gray apron. Their hair was longer than Roskva’s and was pulled back with a white flower pin that spilled little ringlets out in different places.

“So….” Roskva whispered, the silence getting to her.

“So go do your chores.” Aneira said, wiping the flour from their hands and the counter. Roskva felt a lump in her throat.

“But. It’s my birthday. You haven’t even said happy birthday yet.” She said quietly. Aneira sighed.

“Happy eighteenth birthday, Roskva.” They said, still not looking over at her. “Now, chores.” Roskva clenched her jaw.

“Okay.” She whispered. Going to the kitchen door and sliding into her boots.Leaving the kitchen and going out back to her chores. Roskva stomped out to the hen house and snatched up the egg basket.

“It’s my birthday!” She vented to the hens. Startling them awake. “I don’t mind the chores, I really don’t. But is it too much to ask for something? Anything?” She brushed the first hen from the nest to collect the eggs.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

“Something more than a ‘go do your chores, Roskva’” She mimicked their siblings monotone voice. The hens clucked as she shooed another from the nest to search for more eggs. “And I know chores need doing, obviously. Animals don’t care if it’s your birthday or not or whatever, they need feeding. But I.” Roskva sighed, staring at the ground in disappointment. “What did I expect? That’s the way Aneira is. The way they’ve always been. I wish.” Roskva shook her head. Sinking down to the straw covered ground of the coop.

“I wish I knew what happened to our parents. Why they left.” She said quietly. A brown hen clucked over to her and looked at her in the goofy way only a chicken can. Roskva gathered the eggs quietly and returned to the kitchen where Aneira was preparing the pot for pasteurizing.

“Aneira.” Roskva gathered their resolve.

“Hm?”

“What happened to mom and dad?” She said loudly. Hoping she sounded commanding. Aneira froze. “I’m old enough that I deserve to know.” Aneira put the pot down onto the counter.

“Have the cows been milked?” Aneira asked.

“No and I. I won’t until you answer me.” Roskva stood strong. Aneira looked over to her then to the counter where they placed their hands. “Why did they leave?”

“We were young. Very young.” Aneira said quietly. “And there was an accident on a frozen lake.”

“Oh,” Roskva said. The kitchen suddenly felt cold and quiet as the grave.

“I have to go-” Aneira paused to think up their excuse. “Clean the fireplace.” Aneira rushed out of the cold kitchen.

“A-” Roskva couldn’t call for their sibling fast enough before they were gone. She stared at the empty doorway. She took a deep breath and hit the counter with her fist. Roskva left the eggs on the counter and went back outside. Kicking at the rocks in the grass on her way to the barn.

The clucking from the chicken yard caught her attention and made her gasp. She’d completely forgotten to feed the chickens. She raced across the yard to the chicken coop to hurry and correct the mistake and feed the chickens.

“Sorry! I swear I was going to come back and feed you guys!” Roskva called. “At least, that was my intent. My memory is… you know.” Roskva laughed nervously. She opened the feed and began scattering the scratch for the chickens who dove for it as if they’d never eaten before in their feathered lives. It made Roskva laugh in spite of herself.

“Thanks, I needed that.” She said to the chickens. “I mean, I got some bad news and I think I really upset Aneira by asking.” The old tomcat that lived in and around the barn hopped onto the chicken feed bin and meowed at her.

“How’d you get in here?” Roskva asked, narrowing her eyes. She scratched the rough fur. “You agree with me, right? That it’s just not fair for Aneira to make me feel bad about asking about our parents. I mean. It’s only natural that I want to know what happened to them.” The tomcat meowed and followed Roskva out of the gate.

“Right! It’s not fair that they act like I’m the bad guy, all I did was ask a perfectly reasonable question!” Roskva scoffed as she made her way to the barn. “How do they expect me to talk to them when every time I do they just go all; ‘meh! I gotta go clean something! Bleh!’” The cat meowed again, plodding along on Roskva’s heels.

“I know! It’s like they don’t even want me here!” Roskva paused as she opened the stall for the old cow to go out into the yard. The tomcat hopped onto the gate and watched Roskva purring in a raspy tone. “That’d be silly. What would they do without me? Who would take care of the animals? I know Aneira wouldn’t, maybe can’t at all.” Roskva laughed to herself nervously. “They’d tell me if they didn’t want me around. They’d say something, wouldn’t they? I’m being silly.” Roskva shook her head as she took the old broom and waited for the elderly cow to find her way out of the barn and into the pasture to graze. The tomcat meowed and reached a paw out to reach her for more attention but Roskva didn’t quite notice. She kept staring at the hay and mud on the floor. Doubt settling into her mind like a fog.