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Heather | Chapter 3: The Bloods
Cynthia makes her way through the fence and starts knocking the old rustic wooden door. Hazel, Freesia, and I stand behind her back, while Daphne stands next to her.
“Who in their right mind would live in such a place?”, Said Hazel as her eyes explore the house. Then I suddenly hear the door is unlocking from the other side. An old lady with long frizzy grey hair picking her head out. Her eyes are big and sunken. She’s so pale and her grey hair and grey eyes only makes her look more colorless. She has this cold stare as she looks at me, Hazel, and Freesia. For a moment I was terrified. But then Daphne excitedly snaps, “Marilla!”, A big genuine smile flatters her eyes and she leans her body towards the old lady. She, whose name is Marilla, according to Daphne, opens the door widely and goes for a hug from Daphne. That’s when I see that she’s not more than 5′ ft and slouching only makes her appear much shorter. Her hair is so long it almost touches the ground. I turn my head to where she was standing and there I see a small chair that I assume she used as a step to appear a little taller when she has to peep at who’s at the door. Not sure why she does that, but probably not to show vulnerability.
“My darling Daphne, my beautiful little warrior”, says Marilla as she rubs Daphne’s back. She looks at Cynthia, “Cynthia!”, Then turns to her and hugs her too. Cynthia gives another genuine smile and then she comes forward to hug her back.
“How are you, Marilla?”, asked Cynthia
“Oh never better darling, never better”,
“And whose beautiful children do you bring me?”,
Marilla then lets go of the hug and turns her eyes on us.
“Oh this is Heather, her twin Hazel, and Freesia. They’re all our sisters.”, Explained Cynthia.
“Matilda has 3 other daughters?”, She looks up at Cynthia and she nods her head and gives a little weak smile.
“Oh my baby brings me my 3 other grandchildren! Oh! Oh”, her eyes are teary and she wraps my face with her hands, gripping my cheeks as she keeps moaning “Oh! Oh!” With her weak voice. She then does the same thing to Hazel and Freesia.
“Please, come inside.”
She walks before us, escorting us to her living room.
Her house smells like roses and has a sweet apple-like scent. The lights in the room are rather dim, but the atmosphere is so peaceful and sunset-like. Her living room shares the same room as the kitchen and the dining room. There’s a fireplace with knitting tools and a picture that interests me. A long red haired woman holding a baby. “Did you say grandchildren?” I asked Marilla, as I keep my eyes on the picture. “Yes?”, Marilla asked.
“You said ‘your other grandchildren’, were you referring to us?”, I turn my body to face her.
“Let’s all have a sit and talk.”, Cynthia suggested.
She then takes a small chair and sits there, where me, Hazel, and Freesia are sitting on a three seat brown couch. Daphne, on the other hand, is sitting on the countertop as she’s drinking what I assume is tea, holding the mug with both her hands. Marilla is sitting on the rocking chair by the fireplace.
“So?”, Asked Hazel. I think she’s questioning the same question in her head.
Cynthia gives one look to Daphne before she says, “Marilla is the woman who took care of our mom until she turned 21 and married dad..”
Marilla cuts her, “I found her in my sister’s house. I was visiting to see her baby, but when I came the door was open and a rancid smell filled the entire room. I heard her crying, I ran upstairs and there I found her in her crib, crying, starving. I asked her ‘where’s your mama?’ carried her as I went back downstairs. I walked through the living room where the rancid smell hit my nose stronger than before. There I saw, Martha..” she started crying, sobbing, then continues “oh Martha.. my sister, her lifeless body lied there in the pool of her own blood, she was holding a bottle of milk, she was about to feed her baby before they.. they.. they killed her.” She’s crying uncontrollably. Then Freesia stood up and walked to her. Freesia’s holding her hand and Marilla putting her other hand on top of Freesia’s hand. She then sits on Marilla’s lap to calm her down.
“Who killed her?”, Everyone’s eyes on Hazel.
There’s a few moments of silence and so I decide to break it, “yeah, who killed her?”, Then I turn my head to Marilla.
blood. The Redbloods, the noblest and the second highest of blood, The Greenbloods, the third in the Blood Order, they work in the farm, produce dairy and food for everyone, and the last one, Greybloods, like I said, they don’t belong, they don’t fit in. So they’re thrown underground and forced to work in the mines. They’re not paid for that, they’re only given leftovers from the other bloods, and supplies once every 3 months.”
“That’s barbaric.” Hazel frowns.
“Well that’s not the barbaric part here.”, Daphne continues,
“The barbaric part is they decided to stand up for themselves and formed a rebellion 49 years ago when Martha was killed. They killed all the Redbloods first, quietly, without warning, so that the Bluebloods will have little to nothing to protect them. And that’s when they are capable of attacking the Bluebloods. When Martha was killed by the Greybloods, they didn’t get to kill mom because her husband, Igor, right on time, killed all the Greybloods but just then, another Greybloods came and grabbed him, threw him into their truck, brought him to Greyland, and tortured him to death. Some other Greybloods came to retrieve the bodies of their people.” Marilla’s rocking her chair and says, “that’s when I knew it was Greybloods responsible for Martha’s death. Their grey blood was running around Martha’s red blood.” She stops rocking her chair and turns her head to us, her sunken eyes stare at the three of us, “bloods with different colors are immiscible. That’s why you can only marry those from the same blood color.”
I feel a bit intimidated by her stare, so I turn my head to Cynthia and ask, “So Marilla.. is she our grandaunt?” Now that everything starts to make sense, there’s no other more logical thing than Marilla being our grandaunt and that’s something none of us had mentioned yet.
“Yes. She is.” Cynthia said. She smiles at Marilla. But then her smile is slowly fading away,
“and Greybloods is back”.
© Thalia Noya
“Who in their right mind would live in such a place?”, Said Hazel as her eyes explore the house. Then I suddenly hear the door is unlocking from the other side. An old lady with long frizzy grey hair picking her head out. Her eyes are big and sunken. She’s so pale and her grey hair and grey eyes only makes her look more colorless. She has this cold stare as she looks at me, Hazel, and Freesia. For a moment I was terrified. But then Daphne excitedly snaps, “Marilla!”, A big genuine smile flatters her eyes and she leans her body towards the old lady. She, whose name is Marilla, according to Daphne, opens the door widely and goes for a hug from Daphne. That’s when I see that she’s not more than 5′ ft and slouching only makes her appear much shorter. Her hair is so long it almost touches the ground. I turn my head to where she was standing and there I see a small chair that I assume she used as a step to appear a little taller when she has to peep at who’s at the door. Not sure why she does that, but probably not to show vulnerability.
“My darling Daphne, my beautiful little warrior”, says Marilla as she rubs Daphne’s back. She looks at Cynthia, “Cynthia!”, Then turns to her and hugs her too. Cynthia gives another genuine smile and then she comes forward to hug her back.
“How are you, Marilla?”, asked Cynthia
“Oh never better darling, never better”,
“And whose beautiful children do you bring me?”,
Marilla then lets go of the hug and turns her eyes on us.
“Oh this is Heather, her twin Hazel, and Freesia. They’re all our sisters.”, Explained Cynthia.
“Matilda has 3 other daughters?”, She looks up at Cynthia and she nods her head and gives a little weak smile.
“Oh my baby brings me my 3 other grandchildren! Oh! Oh”, her eyes are teary and she wraps my face with her hands, gripping my cheeks as she keeps moaning “Oh! Oh!” With her weak voice. She then does the same thing to Hazel and Freesia.
“Please, come inside.”
She walks before us, escorting us to her living room.
Her house smells like roses and has a sweet apple-like scent. The lights in the room are rather dim, but the atmosphere is so peaceful and sunset-like. Her living room shares the same room as the kitchen and the dining room. There’s a fireplace with knitting tools and a picture that interests me. A long red haired woman holding a baby. “Did you say grandchildren?” I asked Marilla, as I keep my eyes on the picture. “Yes?”, Marilla asked.
“You said ‘your other grandchildren’, were you referring to us?”, I turn my body to face her.
“Let’s all have a sit and talk.”, Cynthia suggested.
She then takes a small chair and sits there, where me, Hazel, and Freesia are sitting on a three seat brown couch. Daphne, on the other hand, is sitting on the countertop as she’s drinking what I assume is tea, holding the mug with both her hands. Marilla is sitting on the rocking chair by the fireplace.
“So?”, Asked Hazel. I think she’s questioning the same question in her head.
Cynthia gives one look to Daphne before she says, “Marilla is the woman who took care of our mom until she turned 21 and married dad..”
Marilla cuts her, “I found her in my sister’s house. I was visiting to see her baby, but when I came the door was open and a rancid smell filled the entire room. I heard her crying, I ran upstairs and there I found her in her crib, crying, starving. I asked her ‘where’s your mama?’ carried her as I went back downstairs. I walked through the living room where the rancid smell hit my nose stronger than before. There I saw, Martha..” she started crying, sobbing, then continues “oh Martha.. my sister, her lifeless body lied there in the pool of her own blood, she was holding a bottle of milk, she was about to feed her baby before they.. they.. they killed her.” She’s crying uncontrollably. Then Freesia stood up and walked to her. Freesia’s holding her hand and Marilla putting her other hand on top of Freesia’s hand. She then sits on Marilla’s lap to calm her down.
“Who killed her?”, Everyone’s eyes on Hazel.
There’s a few moments of silence and so I decide to break it, “yeah, who killed her?”, Then I turn my head to Marilla.
blood. The Redbloods, the noblest and the second highest of blood, The Greenbloods, the third in the Blood Order, they work in the farm, produce dairy and food for everyone, and the last one, Greybloods, like I said, they don’t belong, they don’t fit in. So they’re thrown underground and forced to work in the mines. They’re not paid for that, they’re only given leftovers from the other bloods, and supplies once every 3 months.”
“That’s barbaric.” Hazel frowns.
“Well that’s not the barbaric part here.”, Daphne continues,
“The barbaric part is they decided to stand up for themselves and formed a rebellion 49 years ago when Martha was killed. They killed all the Redbloods first, quietly, without warning, so that the Bluebloods will have little to nothing to protect them. And that’s when they are capable of attacking the Bluebloods. When Martha was killed by the Greybloods, they didn’t get to kill mom because her husband, Igor, right on time, killed all the Greybloods but just then, another Greybloods came and grabbed him, threw him into their truck, brought him to Greyland, and tortured him to death. Some other Greybloods came to retrieve the bodies of their people.” Marilla’s rocking her chair and says, “that’s when I knew it was Greybloods responsible for Martha’s death. Their grey blood was running around Martha’s red blood.” She stops rocking her chair and turns her head to us, her sunken eyes stare at the three of us, “bloods with different colors are immiscible. That’s why you can only marry those from the same blood color.”
I feel a bit intimidated by her stare, so I turn my head to Cynthia and ask, “So Marilla.. is she our grandaunt?” Now that everything starts to make sense, there’s no other more logical thing than Marilla being our grandaunt and that’s something none of us had mentioned yet.
“Yes. She is.” Cynthia said. She smiles at Marilla. But then her smile is slowly fading away,
“and Greybloods is back”.
© Thalia Noya
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