The Four Sisters - Chapter 13 Journey Of Discovery

My eldest sister brought me out of a city. It wasn’t one that I was familiar with. This fact caused a lump to form in my throat and refuse to leave.

As we left, I was startled at the surroundings. Large carts that were self propelled sped along a stone street. They weren’t much different from the carts I was familiar with in design, and there were a few carts around that were more recognizable for me, which brought me comfort. But, the shock of seeing something such as a horseless, self propelled carriage was still rather stifling.

My sister, seeing my wide eyed stare, spoke from beside me as she helped me continue down the stone path. “They’re called ‘automobiles’.”

I turned to her.

She glanced at me from the corner of her eye, then shook her head.

“We’ve missed quite a bit.”

I was too startled to respond, instead choosing to dip my head, though I still couldn’t help myself but to subconsciously turn ever so slightly after passing another of these “automobiles” by.

We walked on in silence, my inability to quell my shock and curiosity about the new technologies around me causing my face to grow hot in embarrassment.

This caused yet another wave of surprise to follow, as I had never known myself to be so easily embarrassed. It was then that I wondered if I had ever actually known myself at all.

It took us quite a while to finally reach the edge of the city, the night around us having already reached its peak and heading quickly toward the dawn.

I turned back to face the city we had just left. I really didn’t recognize it.

My eldest sister spoke from beside me once again.

“Don’t.”

I turned, unsure.

“You’ll drive yourself crazy if you try to think too much about it. All I know is that it’s very likely that you were gone for an extended length of time before I found you.” My eldest sister’s voice came neither soft, nor firm. Though, to me, if felt like a knife slicing open my fast beating heart.

Tears filled my eyes and slowly trickled down. I felt my knees grow weak again, but a firm grip on my arm kept me steady. I looked and found that my sister’s dirty and calloused hands were stronger and more real than anything I think I had ever experienced by that time in my life. Though others may not have appreciated the almost painful grip, to me it was like a strong dock that I had finally come to after being lost to the sea for what felt like a lifetime.

Everything before felt so far away. My mother, my sisters, they felt like a dream that was never real.

She let me stand there. She let me cry. Though, I know now that the situation was dire and that time was precious, I think she knew that I needed it. I needed to fall apart, one last time. It finally hit me, just how much had happened while I was “away”.

I wept for myself. I felt more alone than I had ever felt before. Though my sister was next to me, was holding me up, I felt alone. My memories were like lies. My family was like a dream. My self was like a nightmare.

Though my sister let me fall apart, eventually she pushed me to continue forward. She didn’t speak much on the journey; I think she figured that I needed to work through everything on my own. She was right, and I was to realize later that, she often was.

I do not know how far we traveled, my sister and I. I only know that it took us weeks to get there.

We did not walk the entire way; that would have been impossible. We were able to ride along with others, even able to ride within one of those automobiles.

When we reached a port town, I could no longer go along with my sister without knowing where we were going. She never hid anything from me, not outright at least. But, she would often change the subject after I began asking about where we were going and how far it was. If I asked how long it would be before we got there, she would give vague answers like, “A while.”

I was growing frustrated. I knew that she was keeping things from me, but I didn’t know why. I know now, but at that time I couldn’t understand it.

My state of mind was quite fragile. I knew this myself, but I did not know just how fragile. Anything could have sent me back to that colorless white existence. I was skating on thin ice as some would call it. Ice that was thinner than the thinnest of glass, and just as translucent. Not only was I quite unstable mentally, but as most people know, glass goes both ways. Everything that I knew, my darkness had the capability to know as well. After all, I could barely keep myself aware, let alone hide anything from prying consciousnesses.

But, this time when I asked, my sister gave an answer. She said that I had traveled very far and that we needed to return home if we wanted to help my sisters. To do this, we needed to board a ship.

My sister told me that the average ticket cost roughly $50, so we would need around $100 in order to board the ship.

This, I thought, was a problem that we would not find a solution to easily. My sister, on the other hand, did not seem fazed in the least. She assured me that I didn’t need to worry and left me for a few hours before returning close to dawn.

We hadn’t been sleeping in beds along our journey, instead sleeping anywhere that kept us relatively safe from the elements. This time was no exception. While I was resting next to an old building that smelled of blood and fish, a young man came, a pack of clothing in his arms. As he stepped up to me, I tried to back away, readying myself to run if I needed.

He spoke and my sister’s voice filled my ears.

My eyes grew wide as I gasped.

Her hair, the beautiful auburn locks that I was so envious of before, were gone. She was dressed in loosely fitting men’s clothing, spots of dirt helped cover her feminine features. Of all my sisters, she was the tallest. I had really thought it was a young man before hearing her voice.

She instructed me to dress in the clothing in her hands, and I felt my apprehension turn to unwillingness when I realized that those too were men’s clothing.

I tried to protest and she wasn’t having it. After trying to convince her for a length of time, I finally gave in and changed into the men’s clothing. I had never worn pants before, it was a new experience. Though, not an entirely pleasant one.

As I stood before her, my lips pursed in anger, she pulled from behind her a set of shears.

I do not think I had ever screamed so loudly before.

She was quick to cover my mouth and scold me for my outburst. But I just couldn’t bear to part with my hair.

We stood for a while, her trying to convince me, before she gave up. She looked around, then walked away before returning again with a rather dirty looking hat.

I recognized it. I recognized it because I had seen it atop the head of a drunk that had been passed out in his own urine for the past few hours.

As I started to once again protest, she gave me an ultimatum. Either I cut my hair or I wear the hat to cover it.

I chose the hat, though I had the feeling that it would take dozens of baths before I felt clean again.