Accidents Made Right 1: Pistanthrophobia

I put the pen down in the crack separating both pages of the diary, closed said book, then, with a relieved and happy sigh, I stood out of the chair, pushed it into the desk, and turned to the tent flap.

The tent I slept in was old and rotted, with a small fissure in the ceiling and a brown and orange color instead of an intended green.

Inside the tent was a sleeping bag, a desk just big enough to do work on, and a barely functioning, crude shower.

I went to the tent flaps, and opened them, only for the sun to blind me. But, in a couple seconds, my blue eyes adjusted to the morning ball of fire, and I stepped out of the tent.

Outside of my tent were almost a hundred other tents, all arranged in rows and columns to form a giant grid of tents, but with more than enough room between each row or column to walk.

I looked to my right, and down a couple tents was a large, yellowish-brown tent that took up the space of three tents at once.

I started walking over to that tent, and watched on as a man on a stretcher with a broken leg was carried by a man and a woman to a medical tent behind mine, which was white, had a blue plus on it, and was clearly more thick than the other tents.

The man on the stretcher was wearing a camouflaged military-like uniform, signifying he was one of the town’s soldiers.

The war with Robert and his family had been rough so far. Even with Rob, the absolute best warrior in the entire world (mostly due to his thousand of years of experience), we still stood no chance against Robert’s army.

After all, there was only about 500 of us, counting civilians, while there were thousands of them.

As I made my way to my destination, I saw Dylan Davis and Issac Smith sitting across each other at a table and talking without almost ever making eye contact; the table was across from the tent I was going to.

Issac was a white man with short blond hair, green eyes, and was the best soldier out of all of us… except for my father and Rob, of course.

Meanwhile, Dylan was a white man with long, punk-ish brown hair and brown eyes. He was… average. Sure, he was clever, but that was about all he had.

One day they’ll realize they like each other, I thought, rolling my eyes jokingly.

Once I made it to the long tent, I started to hear voices inside, so I brought my ear closer so I could tell if the conversation was ending.

I heard three voices inside. My father’s, who had a low and old voice, my sister’s, who was energetic and cheerful, and Rob, who was experienced but rarely spoke often.

Most people described hearing him talk as… depressing. As if, just by hearing his voice, you could feel all the pain he’s experienced in his lifetime.

Except, he used to talk a lot more, at least for his standards. But ever since Elizabeth became pregnant, he almost never talks.

I made a silent squeal once I realized my hero was inside. But I hurriedly stepped back after hearing my father say “And be safe.”

“You know we will! Don’t worry about us!”

After a moment, the flaps to my left opened, and Elizabeth and Rob walked out of the tent.

Elizabeth was a white woman with blue happy eyes and hair almost as golden as her personality which was long enough to completely cover most of her neck.

Then there’s Rob. The complete opposite of his girlfriend, and my personal obsession. He had maroon eyes, black skin, no hair, and a white lotus flower birthmark on his cheek, similar to the birthmark on my neck.

“What’s up lil’ bro?”

Elizabeth rubbed my head before I replied “Dad needs me for something. He tell either of you about it?”

Elizabeth and Rob looked at each other confused, then Elizabeth said “No… all he did was tell us to get you if you weren’t already on your way here.”

“Huh… he usually tells somebody.”

“Well, anyways, we should get going now.”

“Alright!” I glanced at Rob, and he seemed to be looking worriedly at Elizabeth’s belly.

Is he… nervous about becoming a father?

Shrugging, I opened the tent flaps, and stepped inside. Along both sides of the tent were dozens of closed lockers containing weapons, gear, and armor.

In the middle of the tent was a large table with multiple maps and documents spread across it, and with an old, bald man with blue eyes standing over it alone.

“Good morning dad!”

I ran up to hug him, and he gladly returned it.

“Oh, hi son! Good morning! I have a task for you!”

“Really?! What is it?” I was jumping up and down with the energy of a hundred cheetahs.

“I want you… to go collect water from the river.”

I stopped jumping, and stared unimpressed at my father. Then, I laughed.

“Alright, that was pretty funny. But seriously, what do you need?”

“That… wasn’t a joke.”

“Wait, you’re serious? What do we even need water for?”

“Please… I need you to do this. For me, your father.”

“I… okay. Let me go get my stuff, then I’ll start.”

My father nodded in acknowledgment, so I ran out the side of the tent I came in from. Then, on the other side of the tent, the flaps on that side were opened, and a woman stepped through, walked up to my dad, and hugged him from behind.

“You sure this is gonna work honey,” he asked.

“I don’t know… but what other choice do we have?”

Meanwhile

Wake up… you have a destiny to achieve.

Wake up.

“WAKE UP!”

My ears were assaulted as an airborne blasted in my ear, causing my body to spring up from underneath my covers.

I immediately swung my head to see who woke me up, and laid my sight on my older twin brother, Alexander Griggs.

We both had brown hair that barely reached our foreheads, green eyes, skin so dark, it barely counted as white.

We looked exactly alike… except for one, well, two key differences.

I tried giving my brother a scowl, but ending up laughing. Which caused him to burst out in laughter as well.

After about half a minute, Alexander wiped a tear of laugher from his eye and said “C’mon, let’s go get breakfast!”

Alexander swung our bedroom door open and zoomed down the hallway and down the stairs.

I sighed peacefully, pulled the covers off my leg, and hopped off the bed, before turning left to my dresser with a mirror on top of it.

I opened the top right drawer, pulled out some My Little Pony pants, a t-shirt with a picture of a blooming rose, and regular white underwear.

After changing clothes, I went to turn around, but noticed my reflection in the mirror. After staring into it for a couple seconds, I leaned closer, and rested my hands on the dresser.

On my neck were two marks: a burn mark of a snake, and a birthmark of a yellow rose flower, which symbolizes joy and friendship. But underneath the burn mark was a secret second birthmark, of a yellow carnation flower, which symbolizes rejection.

What do they mean?

After staring in the mirror for several minutes, trapped in a deep trance… I was snapped out of it when I heard shouting from downstairs.

I stepped out of the bedroom, and walked right to some stairs leading down. On one of the steps was Alexander, sitting down sobbing with his back slouched.

Seeing this, I slowly walked down, and once I was close enough, I sat down with him and pulled him into a hug.

As I was with him, I was also close enough to hear the yelling that I could understand the conflict.

“Will you think about our kids for just one fucking second,” a female, protective voice yelled, annoyed and frustrated.

“But I am! I’m letting them know who they really are! Who their father is,” a strict, commanding voice argued back.

The woman took a deep breath, and said calmly “Have you leaned nothing over the years? From what I’ve showed you? You are worthy of love. You just gotta try…”

Then, I heard stomping, as the woman called out sympathetically “Robert…”

I waited a second, then released my hug with Alexander, and slowly stepped down the stairs. I then turned left to the living room, and said quietly “M-mom?”

There was only one figure standing in the room, a 45 year old woman who looked almost identical to Alexander and I, except female.

She turned around, saw me, and immediately rushed over and hugged me before kissing me on the cheek.

“Good. Rowan, I need you to do something for me.”

“What is it,” Alexander called, stepping down the stairs.

“I’m sorry honey, but I need Rowan to do this.”

“Why? Whatever it is, I can do it myself!”

“Rowan has to be the one to do it. I’m sorry.”

“Hmph.”

As Alexander turned around and walked away, I looked into my mother’s compassionate, tired eyes, and asked “W-what do you n-need me to do?”

“I need you to go collect some water down by the river. Is that ok?”

“I… a-alright,” I said, nodding despite my internal confusion.

“I’ll do it.”

“Good. Now… before you go, don’t tell your father. Alright?”

“A-alright.”

“Ok. Now go, please.”

I nodded once again, then turned around and headed to the front door, leaving the house.

As I went to the garage to collect a wagon, my mother watched onward, and a smile slowly formed between her cheeks.

“Finally. A change of pace.”