Chapter 1-First Impressions Are Everything

“Daddy? Why don’t it move? Are we really gonna keep it? Will it do anything’?” a young child with clean blond braids and a distinguishing horsy face chattered as she bounced up and down. Her feet, although small, made a significant amount of noise in the white room filled with machines. Tubes from the numerous machines were hooked up to her reclining mother and the object in question wrapped up in a pink bundle.

“Yes Pet, we’re keeping her,” the girl’s father covered up a smile as his eldest looked at him with wide eyes. “That’s Lily Marie, your little sister. Remember?” Like his inquisitive daughter, his features were horse-like. “We’ve been telling you for months Pet!” Suddenly, he swooped down to pick her up. ‘Pet’ squealed while her mother hushed her.

“Sowwy Mummy! But I’m a big sister!” Pet declared this beaming down from her father’s shoulders. “Daddy! How could I forget that?”

“Of course!” Her father set her down and pretended to slap himself. “How could I doubt you?” A smug smile settled on Pet’s face. Then, in a solemn voice, he asked her, “You’ll always look out for your sister. Right? Protect her? Keep her away from nasty boys?”

“Yep,” Pet nodded, “I look after Lily.” Using the tips of her gentle bony fingers, she stroked Lily’s chubby pink cheek. Long wet lashes fluttered open briefly. Lily cooed and then sighed contentedly in the way that only babies can after squirming to get comfortable. “Mummy! Daddy! She smiled! And her eyes were gween!”

“Petunia darling, she’s only a few days old. She won’t be smiling yet. And honey, her eyes are blue,” her mother told her patiently.

“Mummy! I SAW IT!” Petunia stomped her foot indignantly as her parents exchanged a Look. In Lily’s ear she whispered. “Lily, you and me are gonna be friends f’ever!”

x-x-x-x

A sky blue blanket with clouds on it wrapped up a baby boy who fidgeted as he lay next to the milk and the mail like a nondescript package. Briefly he opened his eyes, showing off their emerald hue to the world, before returning to the arms of Morpheus where dreams of laughter, butterflies, lullabies, and hugs awaited him. His smooth forehead was marred by a recent harsh, jagged scar. It was still early and dark, so there was no one to walk by and ring the bell to enquire about the baby sleeping on the front step.

He was unaware—why should he be— that when he awoke again that he would never see his mother or his father. How could he know that in time the only memory of them would be a woman’s pleads, a cold voice, and two deadly words preceding a flash of light the color of his eyes? Blissfully asleep the child didn’t know that across the country his name was being murmured with reverence. And how was he to know that in hours time when the door would open and a soul-piercing shriek would rip the air that life would continue giving him the bad hand just as it had begun to the night before?