60th of Fall, 501AV
That morning had started out as ordinary as any other. Nixie woke to her mothers voice, both cheery and tired, beckoning her brother, Cadman, down to the kitchen for breakfast. She rubbed at the sleep that clung to her eyes and sniffed a little at the air and the aroma that wafted through it, only to let out a small sigh of disappointment. Every morning it was the same, Aleta would make her sons favorite breakfast meal and have Nixie eat it while her father, Foster, whispered threats of a beating if she wouldn’t indulge her mothers delusion.
She thought about how it had begun on her tenth birthday, just over a year ago. Nixies parents started with small, little, details that were easy for her to dismiss as their way of keeping her brother in their memories. Such as, insisting that she preferred her eggs hard-boiled when she actually preferred them over easy. She would try and correct her mother, lovingly, reminding her that it was actually Cadman that liked his eggs done that way but Aleta would hear none of it. Motioning her daughter over to the kitchen table, when Nixie had a seat, she too took a seat beside the girls' small frame and wrapped an arm around her, digging fingers into her arm.
“Sweetheart, do you really think I don’t know the way you like your food? I’ve always made your eggs this way and you always tell me how much you love them. Or are you calling your mother a liar?” Her voice was so sweet and loving, but the pain in Nixies arm told her otherwise. Trembling quietly in fear, her eyes were glued to the bowl in front of her.
“O-okay mama,” she managed to stammer. Careful fingers took an egg in hand and tapped it against the tables surface. It seemed that just wouldn’t do though, as Aleta snatched the bowl away, stood, and shooed her daughter away from the table with a scowl.
“What are you doing? Go eat that outside.”
Nixies thoughts were interrupted when there was a quiet knock at her brothers bedroom door. Pulling herself to the edge of her brothers bed, she shuffled groggily over to the door and opened it just a crack. Her father stood outside, leaning against the wall.
“Make sure you behave today and don’t you dare correct your mother. Listen and do as she says without complaint.” That was all he said before leaving. No ‘good morning’ or ‘I love you’, but she wouldn’t complain. Listening to his hushed words, she could feel how worn out he was. Aletas violent mood swings had taken their toll on the whole family and since she was on the receiving end most of the time, she believed her fathers words were to protect her.
Before going to the kitchen, Nixie went back into the bedroom to change into some clothes for the day. She was used to it now, but when everything started she felt so strange wearing her brothers clothes. Just as she was throwing on a long sleeved shirt, pants, and a pair of socks she heard her mom call out again. There was a hint of impatience in the pitch and draw of her words this time. Hurrying into the kitchen, she was quick to apologize.
“Sorry,” was all she said. On the best of days it was difficult to gauge just what would trigger her mother, so she resorted to keeping her words few. Stammering a, “thank you,” before hurrying to the front door, boiled egg in hand.
“Cadman, don’t I get a hug before you go? I know you’ve got a lot of training to do, but don’t forget about your dear old mom.” Nixie froze, reluctantly turning around and walking back to give Aleta the hug she requested. It was a very disingenuous one-armed side hug, but it was a hug nonetheless, and it seemed to satisfy her so once again once again she headed for the front door. Outside, away from her parents watchful eyes, a relieved sigh escaped her lips. Her house had always been a suffocating place, but without her brother it was unbearably so.
A brisk breeze moved through the trees, rustling the dry and dying leaves that still clung to their branches. Underfoot, the crunch and crinkle sounded with each of Nixies steps. She had no specific destination in mind, it was just nice to be away from home. Standing under a large tree, her eyes went up to the sparse canopy, listening and watching as the leafs quaked. The young girl could see herself in them, or rather, the tree itself. She and it were going through a similar change. The leafs, the small part of a whole, fought to remain and yet fell away with the slightest gust. Except with Nixie, her mother was a torrent that forcibly stripped away her daughters identity a little bit at a time. She watched as a single vibrant red leaf broke away from its perch and floated down into her outstretched hands. Holding it delicately up in front of her face, she looked carefully at the pretty color and pattern.
