No Choice but to Die

-Marigold Fare-

I was born on a beautiful morning, a good omen on the day of my birth. As I entered the world, my born Sister accompanied my mother in a small blank room at home. Where I was born into the hands of a young midwife. The only outsider allowed in our home at the time.

It was until I was carried along by this Midwife when the fates decided to show their true colors. Upon touching my small hand, the midwife dropped dead and was left to decay in one of our many rooms.

———–

My Mother told me this story when I first began asking questions, questions on the rules she placed above me and my sisters heads. I was four years old, innocent and unknowing of my own monstrosity. I did not fully understand what she meant. I did not know the meaning of this Death she spoke about. Her face was stern as always, several inches away from my own. But her eyes a piercing raw Gold as if she saw through my very soul. It was in that moment that I realized my own existence and became self aware, if you may.

I should have screamed and cried, like a normal child. Or maybe prayed to whoever would listen, to the Goddess Morticia or her son Helios. Hoping in good graces she would bless me with a new life. But I did not. I simply looked my Mother in the eyes and shed not a single tear. Managing to ask

”Why me? ”

In which she responded with ”Its because you were born a Fare. ”

Its been a few years and my eighteenth birthday is soon to be. My mother has since then given birth to a traveling merchants daughter. My younger sister Bitter Fare, who will be turning twelve twenty days after mine.

—–

”Star linked skies that fill the sea-

With your reflection

So easily

Why must I crave your touch-

my Darling Parted Key ”

I sing a light harmony as the shadows in the hall bounce back and forth. I quickly pick up my speed in response to the windowless halls, endless locked doors and flickering candle lights. I reach the end of the ornately patterned hall to a beautiful blue door, engraved with a scene of a young girl dying. My elder sisters door, a horrific reflection of my sisters own gift. I catch myself distracted by the artistry and move myself along. I knock three times to let her know Im there, and by the edge of my eye I see her creak the door open, just enough to let me see her presence-less shape.

I stare at her colorless green eyes, waiting for her to let me in.

”There you are, Marigold, your Two minutes and 46 seconds late. Hold yourself accountable. Be wary of the hallways Marigold. I told you, I need you to be attentive and on time. Yes you need to be on time, something might happen. Something always happens to those who aren - ” she says irregularly.

”I am very sorry. ” I cut just in time before a mountain of her thoughts fall bare before my feet.

She stands crooked, yet beautiful in the hallway light, pulling me in and shutting the door quickly behind her. I am thrown into her room, a small quiet room cluttered with keys. Beautiful keys, Rusted Keys and Keys with no end. Filling each and every crevice of the room.

My sister interrupts my view, her dress matching the color of her eyes shift, reflecting the dim light hanging from her star sky Painted ceiling. Her tan skin and wild dark gray curls wildly frame her youthful face. I enter the room, just as humid and uncomfortable as my sisters suspicious eyes.

”Umm..Holly, do you think I can..not attend class today?…. ” I ask.

”Oh, Well yes, well no, well maybe. Just one second. ” Holly counters as she steps on a high sturdy oak table in the middle of the room, and reach