July/August 2024

After the loss of her mother, Elara discovers her true birthright It was all a blur. The tears, the confusion, the stupid sympathetic but awkward “What do I do now?” looks on the doctors’ faces as they watched my face drop, and the tears start spilling out. I couldn’t even cry anymore, the truth had burrowed into my brain and now just sat there. No emotions, no thoughts, just “Oh. I guess that happened.” How was I supposed to sleep now? I stared at the ceiling. I was awake. Not from sadness, but from utter boredom. I covered my head with my pillow as the baby started another crying fit. Her cries echoed through my head. Haunting me. The new baby was the whole reason this had happened, and yet now she was in bed with my dad, crying about some dumb thing like being hungry, or being tired or needing a diaper change. She didn’t understand the pain, and probably never would. The baby cried for the millionth time since she was born. Which was yesterday. I needed a break. “Dad, I’m going outside” I said drowsily, putting my shoes on. He rushed out to stop me. “Wait. You need to read this first. I already did. It’s from your mother,” he mumbled. I almost couldn’t tell his wife had died yesterday. Almost. He still stuttered over the word mother, and looked at the ground as he said it. Making the words barely audible. I stared at him questioningly and pulled the letter out of the envelope. Seeing the curvy handwriting of my mother almost made me break down in tears. This was probably the last letter my mother had ever written. Somehow, I held in the tears, saving them in my mental bucket. When it overflowed, there would be no way to stop the sobs and they would cascade down my face in waterfalls for hours. I read the letter:   Dear Elara (and Nick), I really don’t want to have to do this, but after I die, you can no longer go into the forest. I’m so sorry, love. I know the forest means everything to you, and I don’t want to have to take it away from you, but it is simply too dangerous and unpredictable now that I’m gone. Please forgive me. —Mom   I stared at my dad in disbelief. “What? No, you can’t. I—I have to go there!” I shouted. My dad looked at the ground and mumbled some more. “Elara, I think it’s better if you stay inside right now.” After a few awkward seconds I reluctantly followed him upstairs. Just then the baby started another crying fit, and Dad rushed to shut her up. I sat on the couch and stared blankly at the wall. The forest was the only part I had left of my mother, and now I didn’t even have that. I felt like sobbing, ripping my hair out, screaming all over again. I couldn’t do this. I didn’t know how anyone could. I was alone. So alone. I had nobody to talk to, nobody to play with, nobody to pass the time with. All I could do was sit and stare at the wall watching the time pass as the baby cried again. And again. And again. I was just a blob. I couldn’t think, couldn’t speak. I could barely walk. The sky was starting to darken. I sighed; I had been staring at the wall for hours. I would never have done that if Mom was still here. Slowly, I stood up and stumbled to bed. *          *          * I woke up the next morning. Despite my sadness and hopelessness the night before, I felt confident and happy. But I hid my smile and stumbled sleepily out into the kitchen. “Good morning, Ela,” Dad mumbled, the circles under his eyes telling me exactly how his night went. “Morning.” I smiled, forgetting that I was supposed to be sad. Dad didn’t smile back, though the slightest hint of amusement hit his face. “Someone slept well,” he decided. His voice held a slightly painful tinge of bitterness and jealousy. “Sorry, Dad,” I muttered under my breath, and then I waited. I had already put on socks and my favorite sweater over my pajama shirt. As soon as the baby started crying, I went for it. I couldn’t help myself from smiling guiltily and mischievously as I slipped my shoes on and begged silently for the door not to creak. Creaaaaaakkk. I grimaced but opened the door quickly and slipped outside. *          *          * I breathed in the fresh air of the meadow and brushed my hand against the long grass beside me. I watched the forest grow closer as I walked, and my heart beat faster as its tall evergreen trees towered over me. I sighed. This was it. I was about to see my mother again, or at least partially. “Elara!” a voice called from behind me. I turned, my smile fading when I saw who it was. “Get back inside. Now,” my dad yelled. The baby, for once, was not crying. Instead, she lay over my dad’s shoulder, drooling on the spit up-covered cloth. I blushed guiltily and followed him inside. “Elara, this is unacceptable. I can’t have you running off whenever I am in the other room looking after your sister.” I cringed. “I have no choice but to ground you.” I stared at him. “What?” I said in disbelief. “But—you—why!?” My dad didn’t reply; he just went into the kitchen to feed the baby. “Well no wonder I tried to leave. You’ve only talked to me twice since it happened; both times it was about the stupid rule that mom made,” I muttered. Dad didn’t seem to hear me. Instead, he decided to tell me about the third-worst thing I would ever experience in my life. Coincidently,