Sitting on warm river stones, letting my feet dip into the crystal-clear waters while listening to a sweet melody that drifted up stream, from an unwanted tribe down river.

The beauty of their mixed voices tuned a melody that made my skin peak with millions of goose bumps while syncing my emotions and over whelming thoughts where my mind could see worlds that were untouched, realms that could only exist with one's imagination not one's presence, and able to feel within each thought...

And just as fast as the worlds and realms, creatures and dwellers, their stories and entities devoured my whole entire being....

They left.

Disappeared, leaving vague traces of memories in my head while trying to Sur come the surcharge of energy that once flooded my mind, body and emotions.

Trying to replay the images in my head. Reconnecting every ounce of energy I could muster, just to remember, yet all I can recall is faint emotions. The sadness and yearning of wanting to go home.

But I am home..

I am home?, 

Everything fell silent and still....

The river still flowed, and the wind still blew, gently across my skin, but all I hear is silence...

I felt free and light. Safe and warm. Well centered from head to toe while feeling connected to all my surroundings...

               ..................................

"What the hell are you doing down here!!"

"Thud.. Thud.. Thud".. 

The sounds of my mother's heavy feet, beating against the dry dusty earth mixed with hot river stones, yet even though the path was a tad bit away from the town's road, I could still feel the anger with each step she took, hitting the ground at full force, franticly exaggerating.  "Get away from there before those savages take you!".

This was the first time I thought my mother was about to kill me.

Grabbing my arm while pulling my ears, pulling so hard, I stood to attention in no time!

Scolding me while shoving me down the path.

"How many times have I told you!!", "No one Is allowed by the river unless you have company!!!"..

"Is there something wrong with your ears!!", She continued shouting at me while pausing now and then for a breath. 

(I've never known why it was so bad to be by the river by myself. All the tales in town are just that.

Tales. 

However, the tales are said that the unwanted tribe were vicious killers that take our women, kill our men and slave our children and discard their own. 

The tales of songs that made the earth rumble before they attacked our town and nearby villages too.

But I have never seen such things since the day I was born)..

..........

"The next time I catch you down by that river!!", Mother skillfully lowers her voice but not her aggression, tugging my arm, while dusting off any remembrance of the river from 15minutes ago before crossing the bridge that connected the dirt path to the towns threshold.

Mother deepens her voice directly into my ear as we cross the bridge..

"I dare you to try me!!"

Tugging my arm harder, "Just one more time, I dare you!!",

"Are you listening to me!! or do I have to make you listen!!?

Even though her tone was quiet, she demanded her words to be acknowledge and right there and right now for I knew that if I didn't, she would demand it openly, in the middle of town, Infront of everyone! 

Yes mama...

I answered with full eyes wide open, hoping and pleading to my mother that she could read my mind and not embarrass me Infront of the whole entire town.

"I'm sorry I went to the river, Mama", "I promise I will not go there again".

By the time I finished my apologies, we had set foot at the threshold of town, 

Mother stopped and turned to face me. 

"They take our children and women from our town".

"Do you want to be next?"

She continued, but this time with more passion and fear behind her eyes.

"Nothing in this world would kill me faster than your being taken or worse, killed."

She turned and linked our arms together, making me cling to her tighter.

We began to walk through town with my head on her shoulder and my mother's head held high, while the townsfolk were looking at us through their disappointing eyes, adding a few, with their quiet sly comments on the side. making the veil of silent hatred that's always been masked with fake smiles and nods, feel more prominent today.

Yet I knew there would-be consequences.  I knew me being by the river would only make things harder for not just myself, but for my family as well, if I was caught.

Because...

Mother is a half breed from the tribe down river.

Another tale..

BUT..

They say that my grandmother was taken by the tribe and when she returned, she was with-child.

My grandmother was then beaten in the hope my mother would die, by the hands of my Great-Grand-Donkey, sorry, Great-Grand-Father, but instead, It only put my grandmother into labor.

Four days later, she gave birth to my mother.

...... ........

Sadly, my grandmother has not been able to walk since that day. Nor think that there is anyone genuine in this world.

Her father had broken and shattered her lower spine and pelvic bone all while giving birth through the process. Not only did he shattered any chance of living a normal life again, by crippling her mentally and physically, my grandmother was now a mother.

Ever since.

The one species she hates. Animal, child, adult, she don't care. If you are male, you are not welcome.

(I'm really glad I am Female).

Another Tale is my Great Grand Father built a two-bedroom, house between the outskirts of town and the river, then moved us all in there (Still owning our town house).

Its was said he had settled in a few livestock/cattle with barriers and fences, vegetable gardens with their own pit. Fence lined near 2 acres of land.

Loving and caring. Almost remorseful for what he had done, 

A month or so later, he left, leaving his broken daughter and infant Grandchild to fend for themselves while having to tend to all livestock on the farm, not to mention the crops and 2 acres of land!!

In the end, my Grand-Mother had found out that her father did this, in all hopes that the tribe down river would take them away, or at most, that they would die in the house he built, and he could bury them there, where no one would know nor care. 

If anyone had asked, (knowing no one would though), he could simply say that they were taken again.  

Society would look favorable on him again. Leaving my grandfather's dirty mistake of a daughter and her half breed mutt (as some said he would call my mother) buried and buried forever.

....................

At the time though, Depressed, Angry, Hurt, and alone, My Grand-mother's fire of hatred burnt through her whole sole. like vengeance, and there she laid crying, not knowing what she was going to do. 

She hasn't seen nor heard from her father in days and no one would come this close to the farm for it was built to close to the river boundary. 

A week had passed, and by then, my mother was hungry, dirty, and has not stopped screaming in days.

She had to do something to save her daughter.

So...

My Grand-Mother pulled a sheet to the ground, placed my mother inside the sheet, tied the sheet to her neck and crawled to the livestock hut, outside.

It had taken her all night and day to get there, but through pain and tears, and the determination of a screaming baby, she did it.

There, she laid in the pig's pen, knowing the sow has had a litter, my grandmother put my mother on the Teet of the pig. 

That was the start of their new home for Grand-Mother has never set foot, body nor soul into that house since the day she crawled out.

She turned the pigs pen into their bedroom as it had the two main ingredients, they both needed. A place to sleep and fresh milk supply on demand to feed not only my mother but also herself. 

Eventually, as years went by, with the help of my mother, they had turned the once pig sty, into a 1-bedroom home, with makeshift walls made from old, jagged cut branches and logs that were found on the riverbanks, clay and stones, also from the river.

Flooring was made my flax that grew everywhere on the property but held down by mud and stones.

As for clothing, Grandmother would put 4 holes in any large cloth that mum could find. This only started when my mother was old enough to go into the main house and start bringing things out.  Sheets, blankets, curtains, whatever my 6-year-old mother could carry out, My mother would.

My Grandmother, The women who has not stood in years due to paralyzed hips, would lay there and cut two slits at the bottom of the square sheet, and two at the top. 

She would then make my mother lay on top and slide each slit she made on each arm, then each leg, obviously with help from my mother.

My mother would sit up and my grandmother would push herself on her back while my mother leans over her. 

There she laid tying three knots. grabbing the corners, left to right, she knotted the sheet in. One knot near my mother's chest, a scrunched-up knot at her stomach, and lifting the excess sheet between my mother's legs, she pulled the sheet up towards my mother's belly, like a nappy, while grabbing the left and right side of the sheet, she fastened a knot Infront of my mother pelvic area making it look like shorts.

Giving her strength to beat the odds that have been placed Infront of her, My Grand-Mother successfully raised her daughter.

Through the aches and pains, she never once let her mingled body give in. 

Slowly but surely, she was able to take care of my mother, forming a bond so unbreakable that at times, I still see my mother crawl on all fours to my grandmother and snuggle into her back. molding their bodies like a mother and her cub.

To be continued   .........

............................

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