A Lapse in Time Read online

  I sighed overwhelmingly, pressing my back against the door and sliding down to the floor. I held my forehead in the palms of my hands. I could have torched my house out of frustration and grief at that point.

  My room was dull just like my life. It had creaky oak wood floors, with a thin, faded red rug resting in the center. The spruce walls continued through the house, calendars from several years ago with old scribbles and notes remaining tacked onto the wall. Several windows lined the north side, a wooden window seat that my father had built resting beneath them. Thin white curtains hung lifelessly on the sides of each, unmoving in the stillness of the room. On one side of the window sat a single bed with an old, worn green sheet hanging like a mop over the mattress, wondering when it would be used again. On the other side of the windows were a set of bunk beds; the top bunk yearning for someone to caress beneath its sheets as well.

  I weakly raised my head, staring at the two empty beds blankly as I registered the fact once more that they would never be used again. It had been eight years since they had last been in use, and neither my father nor I would dare to move them. Those beds were going nowhere. Anything that we had left of my mother or brothers we would hold on to as tightly as we could.

  Reluctantly, I stood up and walked over to a small mirror mounted on our wall. My deep blue eyes flashed back at me in the ebony that trapped my room in its embrace, my black hair invisible in the night. I don't know how long I stood there quite honestly. I just stared at my reflection, comparing myself to my older brothers in dismay.

  A small wooden table sat beside the mirror. Without looking, I grabbed a picture frame off of it, holding it tightly in my hands and staring at it as my chest tightened with sorrow.

  I was eight when the picture had been taken. My hair was still long and black just as it was now; the only difference in my face being how much bigger my eyes looked because of my young age, and my now broadened jawline. I sat with one leg wrapped around each of my brother’s shoulders, holding my small, bony fists victoriously to the sky.

  Briven and Tyler weren't identical twins, but none the less they were the same age, both being sixteen and standing at the same height of nearly six feet. Briven had deep brown hair and light blue eyes, so he looked much like my father. He was very slender and looked a lot younger than he was, but boy if you got into a fight with him he would prove you wrong in two seconds. Tyler, on the other hand, had light brown-blonde hair that was clipped short, and small, green-hazel eyes which always seemed to be filled with trickery. While he was not protruding with muscle, he was still very strong and could probably knock you out with one punch if he wanted to.

  My eyes watered as flashbacks continued to consume me. My family was so close, and to be torn from one another like we had been was the worst thing that had happened to me yet.

  I sniffled, trying to hold back the tears. I did not bother to undress or bathe. I simply lumbered over to my bed, my feet dragging across the floor as I collapsed onto the mattress face-first. I grabbed the sheets with my fists, squeezing them as hard as I possibly could as the saltiness of my pain rolled down my face and dampened my sheets.

  I would do absolutely anything to bring them all back. At my age, most boys begin to break off from their families and go their own way. Even though I had hit that period in my life, I felt like I needed them more now than I could ever understand. I could never talk to my father about anything, for he would snap as quickly as he could blink, and of course, Shamu could not speak. I was forbidden to go to the market after that day eight years ago; I could not talk to anyone outside of the premises of this disguised prison.

  I wept as long and hard as I could before my tears finally ran dry and sleep gently took me in its soft arms, temporarily taking my pain away.

  Two

  Last Moments

  My arms felt like jelly as I walked down the street, struggling to hold the basket up any longer. Both of my arms were wrapped tightly under the bottom; the basket so large in comparison to my body that my eyes barely peeked over the top. The crate was stuffed with thread and blankets that we were going to sell for money; never had I thought such light things could be so heavy.

  There was a light chuckle, and I strained my eyes to look and see who it was. My mother, Reina, was next to me, holding her own basket filled with goods to sell. My mother looked stunning today; her dark red hair bounced off of her shoulders in curls while her bright blue eyes shined on me in adornment. She had a light blue bow tied into her hair and a powder blue dress on to match. “You need help there, Eero?” she asked.

  I nodded quickly, my arms and legs ready to give way from the immense weight being placed on my body.

  “Don't worry, Mom. I’ve got it.”

  Two hands reached over my head and grabbed the basket easily from my grasp, freeing my arms. I looked up, seeing Briven holding my load and staring down at me with amusement. Thankfully, he had the courtesy not to laugh at me. He had once been small, too!

  “Thanks, Briven,” my mother said gratefully. “I think it’s still too much for him.”

  My brother scoffed, rubbing my hair roughly with his free hand. “Nah, he'll be able to carry it soon without breaking a sweat; be just like me.”

  My eyes shone with admiration towards him. I could always count on Briven to be a huge support for me. There may have been a decent age difference between us, but it always seemed like Briven understood me better than my mother.

  With the strain off of me, I didn’t bother to keep up with my family any longer. I ran ahead of them down the street, kicking up so much dirt that the entire road became a dust storm. When I finally entered the market square, I slowed my pace down to a brisk walk, staring at all of the small stores and merchants in awe.

  The stores were just small wooden shacks that lined the narrow dirt street, but they were shacks in a good sort of way; they weren't run-down but were fairly presentable. Several people besides us walked down the street to sell their own things. Some had already herded their cattle, preparing for auction, while others were bringing their fruits, vegetables, and grains to the merchants, collecting their profit.

  My mother and Briven stopped at a small store that looked the same as all of the rest. Gratefully, they set the heavy baskets down onto the wooden countertop for an estimate of just how much their hard work was worth. I rushed back towards my mother, standing at her side and peeking over the dealer counter curiously.

  An old woman who appeared to be in her sixties stood there casting a friendly smile in my mother’s direction. Her silver-gray hair was tied up into a messy bun, a see-through, green sun hat trying to cover up her fail. She wore a pair of tan slacks, a green top to match her hat, and a white apron which tied behind her waist and neck. Her face creased with wrinkles as she smiled, her pale gray eyes beaming with gratitude.

  I looked back to my mother, surprised to see her smiling back with the same warm gaze that the merchant held.

  “Why, if it isn't Reina!” the woman exclaimed, flashing her yellow teeth with pride. “I haven't seen you in ages!”

  My mother chuckled in amusement. “Yes, it has been quite some time, Sue. How have you been?”

  “Fine, but this shop is going downhill. No one is buying.”

  “Because no one has any money to spend,” my mother added lightly.

  Sue scoffed. “You can say that again. All of the Nobles are holding on to every penny that we earn these days. This war just needs to end already.”

  “Agreed. I don't know how much longer I can wait.”

  Sue seemed to pick up on something that I hadn’t. “What do you mean by that?”

  “The Nobles are going to win,” my mother continued casually, “everyone knows that. The sooner they take to power, the better.”

  “How so?!” Sue exclaimed in shock.

  Reina’s eyes darkened, looking somewhat flustered. “Because what they envision is what will save us. It’s best if we just stop resisting; then no more lives have to
be taken without reason.” She paused. “Speaking of which, have you heard anything from George?”

  Sue zoned out momentarily, swallowing hard. “I don't know…” she conceded. “I haven't heard from him since the battle of Rypple.” She turned her gaze to Briven. “You're old enough to fight. Why don't you join the Patriots?”

  “I raised him better than that,” my mother mumbled defensively.

  “I’m asking him,” Sue said in a semi-threatening tone, shooting my mother a stern glare. My mother never was the apple of everyone’s eye in this town; her support of the Nobles only made others look down on her.

  “I don't want to,” Briven answered calmly. “My place is with my family; not fighting hundreds of miles away from home in a war that we won't win anyway.”

  Sue's eyes turned cold, immediately dropping the conversation. She scoffed, pulling the baskets towards her and looking over the condiments one by one. She inspected each item carefully with her old hands; each thread, each quilt, and every piece of cotton that my mother had brought in a large sack. Every single piece.

  I could see how anxious Mother and Briven were as Sue evaluated each item. I could understand their worry; our whole family had worked months to get what we were trying to sell, and one stubborn woman or one simple flaw could make all of your hard work go to waste in the blink of an eye.

  Sue placed the last of my mother's quilts back in the basket before she stood there and stared at the mound of goods. She cocked her mouth to one side and tapped her fingers on the counter, thinking.

  “Hm…” she said after both my mother and Briven had finished sweating enough from anxiety to fill a reservoir. “Very nice items, Reina,” she commented. “Good threading, unique designs… Even the cotton is picked clean.”

  My mother's only response was a tense nod.

  “Five hundred dollars,” Sue finally said.

  “Wh-what?” my mother's voice cracked with disbelief. Her eyes were wide, and her jaw hung so low that one might have thought she unhooked it from her face. “F-five hundred? That's it?”

  “Yes, ma'am,” Sue confirmed.

  “That's ridiculous!” Briven bellowed angrily. He slammed his fist onto the counter, leaning towards Sue until his face was inches from hers. His nostrils flared like a bull's, and his face flushed pink with anger. “You gave us three-thousand dollars last year!”

  “I'm sorry,” Sue apologized, her face saying otherwise. “The price of goods is down dramatically, and no one is buying. We all have to suffer.”

  “But five hundred won't do it!” my mother argued desperately. “I have three children, a husband, and a farm for goodness sake! Five hundred won't get us much past a month, let alone a whole year! You have to—”

  “Five hundred or nothing, Reina!” Sue snapped, her personality having done a complete one-eighty. “And you're lucky you're getting that! Besides, no one else except me would buy from a Noble lover like you, so just try and see if you can get a better price! I dare you!”

  My mother fell silent, and I couldn't help but notice the look of utter defeat in her eyes. All of her hard work just wasn't going to be enough to get us through this time.

  She sighed dejectedly, pushing the basket towards the old merchant. “Fine,” she mumbled, her voice barely audible. “Five hundred…”

  Sue nodded, swiping away the goods from the counter and placing them on the ground. I heard her rummaging through multiple items beneath the counter, my mother's grip on my hand tightening. I stared at her, my heart practically breaking when I saw her trying to fight back the tears. I knew that she had thought she failed us, and I squeezed her hand tighter to reassure her that she hadn't. She looked towards me, smiling weakly.

  Sue reappeared a minute or so later, holding out a roll of twenty-dollar bills to my mother. “Pleasure doing business with you,” she said dryly.

  Briven snatched the money away from her weak grasp, grunting with disgust. “Don't expect any more,” he growled. He grabbed my mother's wrist, yanking her away from the stand as he stormed off down the street. My mother pulled me away with her, and we didn't slow down until we were out of Sue’s sight.

  Briven tore his hand away from my mother's, marching down the street in a fit with his fists clenched together at his side. You could practically see the anger waves flying off of him, so I thought it was best to keep my distance.

  My mother let go of me and caught up to Briven, locking his arm in an iron grip and spinning him around to face her. “Now you listen to me young man,” she said sternly. “This isn't the end of the world; we've gotten by on much less. Tyler has his own load to sell, so we'll get more money for that anyway.”

  “It doesn't matter,” Briven mumbled, staring at my mother with cold eyes. “If it wasn't for those stinking Nobles—!”

  Without the slightest warning, my mother slapped Briven across the face, and I recoiled backward in shock. I had never ever seen my mother hit anyone; if she ever did, I never thought it would be her own son.

  Even Briven looked shocked, holding his hand to his face as his cheek turned a stinging red. “You look at me,” my mother growled. “Don't you dare say anything negative about the Nobles! If you want to get out of this war alive, you kiss the ground they walk on. Do you understand me?”

  Briven scoffed. “Yes, ma'am.”

  My mother nodded her head sternly. Her eyes then turned soft, and she shook her head. “I'm sorry, Briven,” she apologized. “I just don't want anything to happen to you. My heart would cry forever if anything happened to any one of my sons.”

  “I understand,” Briven said flatly.

  My mother turned towards me, her eyes watering. She held her arms out wide to me, squatting. “Come here, Eero,” she cooed. I ran into her arms, hugging my mother tightly around the neck. She stood up, grunting strenuously as she held me against her chest. “Ooh, my little boy is getting so big!” I couldn't help but let out a pathetic laugh. My mother smiled happily; I even saw a small grin from Briven. “Now, how about we find that brother of yours?” Mother suggested. “If it were up to him, he would stay out right until dark.”

  With that, we started off down the street; my mother and Briven instep side by side, while I used my little boy charm to get out of walking and be carried on my brother's shoulders instead. The sun bounced off of the canopy of leaves that hung over the street, relieving everyone of the scorching heat. The crowd of people in the streets had now grown denser. The air was filled with the sounds of merchants trying to draw you in to buy their merchandise, but their propaganda was easily covered up by the sounds of angry, cursing customers. Apparently people were getting ripped off left and right these days, pro-Patriot and Noble alike.

  We were only walking for a minute or so before I caught sight of my brother flirting with a girl on the side of the street. My brother was dressed in simple blue jeans with a green collar shirt. His short hair was spiked up from some concoction, his smile wide as he laughed with the girl. The girl looked about the same age as he; her blonde hair flowing delicately over her shoulders while her brown eyes beamed into my brother with a type of dopey admiration that flowed throughout her body.

  “Hey! Tyler!” I yelled, waving my hands at him wildly.

  “Shh!” Briven scolded, but it was too late.

  Tyler turned towards me, his smile fading. Immediately, mine did too, and I sank lower into Briven's shoulders, trying to hide; I knew he wasn't pleased with me as soon as I saw the look on his face.

  He turned towards the girl, sighing as he walked away from her and approached us instead. He’s mad…

  “What was that for?” Tyler snapped, looking at my mother.

  “I didn't tell him to do that,” my mother said innocently. “He’s only eight, Tyler. He doesn't know better yet.”

  Tyler scoffed. “Yeah, well…” His voice trailed off, and he fell silent.

  “Can't think of a good argument, can you?” Briven teased.

  He flashed him a stern look that
said shut it.

  “It doesn’t matter,” my mother interrupted before my brothers could break out into a fistfight right in the middle of the street, “we needed to get you anyway. How much did the vegetables and grain sell for?”

  Tyler reached into his pocket and handed my mom a roll of bills. “Nine hundred dollars. I tried to get the usual two-thousand out of them, but they were horribly stubborn. It was this or nothing; sorry, Mom.”

  “No, no,” my mother quickly said, flicking her wrist at Tyler as she stared at the money. “Sue was the same way; we only got five hundred from her.”

  “Five hundred?!” Tyler exclaimed with disbelief. “What? How?”

  She shook her head, her eyes sagging as she focused on the pitiful amount of money we collected. “Times are tough… What are you going to do about it?”

  “Yeah, I know, but—”

  There was the sudden whine of a horse, and before I could even scream, a flash of white slammed into me. I tumbled off of Briven’s shoulders as the two of us were thrown to the ground, landing face-first in the dirt

  “Briven! Eero!” My mother ran over to me immediately, dropping to her knees and helping me weakly sit up, completely ignoring the older son who had taken a much harder hit than I had; the evidence supporting my guess presenting itself upfront as he rolled on the ground, moaning in agony. “Oh my God, are you ok honey?!” Her motherly instincts took over as she spat on her dress and proceeded to wipe the dirt off of my face.

  “Yeah, I’m fine, thanks for asking,” Briven grumbled sarcastically as he shakily got to his feet, holding his hands to his head painfully.

  The people of Raddison stared at us, shocked and confused.

  “What was that all about?” Tyler wondered.

  “I have no clue,” my mother responded as she continued to scrub the dirt roughly off of my face.

  “Hold it!”

  Everyone immediately shifted their attention down the main street. Five Nobles stood in the center of the town square, staring intensely at a man racing away on a white horse.