A long time ago, there lived a boy named Zenn. He was special in some ways that others aren’t.
His mother died after he was born. It was said that his mother gave birth to twins, but after that, a witch took one of them and was never found again.
After what happened, his father taught him to defend himself for a time will come that he will be gone.
Zenn didn’t have any friends to play with. The other children avoided him for he was different, and incapable.
One day, the townspeople came to their village and burned all the houses that came along their way. His father told him to run as far as he can and promised that he will fix everything.
Zenn then followed his father’s order and ran quickly deep into the forest to find a place to hide.
It was dawn when Zenn came back, but it was too late. Not a single soul was left in their village. The townspeople destroyed everything and took everyone’s lives, including his father’s.
All he could see was the ruins of the houses and burnt bodies of the people. He was left all alone and scared that he would curl up at night and cry himself to sleep.
One day, while he was walking around the place, he found a pile of wilting flowers. Right next to it was a dandelion, which is the only one different from the others.
It was the only dandelion in the mass of daffodils. Zenn wondered how could there be a dandelion in these pile of flowers.
“It’s so unlikely to have it here.”
Zenn looked at it for a long time and thought that it must’ve been so lonely for the dandelion, being so different from the others. The thought of it made him remember himself and the way others treated him. Like the dandelion, he was neglected, despised, and lonely.
Zenn then decided to take the flower with him. He prepared a nice and tidy pot for the dandelion. He talked and watered it everyday and treated it like a family.
He would bring it with him wherever he went.
Then one night while staring at the moonlit sky, Zenn stared at the flower right next to him and said,
“How I wish you could talk.”
He stared at the dandelion for a moment then looked down and cried.
But suddenly he heard a voice,
“I can talk if you want me to.”
He looked up at where the voice was coming from, right next to him. He looked at the pot, but there was no flower. The flower was gone and all that he could see was a girl, sitting right next to him.
“Who…who are you?…H… how?” Zenn said in disbelief.
The girl looked at him and said,
“Did you know the story of the twins and the witch?”
Zenn stayed quiet and did not say anything. The girl looked at him and started narrating.
“There was once a witch who fell in love with a villager. The witch wasn’t like the other witches for she had a good heart. The villager didn’t see her as a witch, he’s seen her as a woman who is pure and kind. The two then fell in love and lived together in the village.
After a few years, the witch became pregnant and gave birth to twins, a girl and a boy. The witch and the villager was so happy.
But one day, the people in the village found out about the witch and came to kill her. The witch then ran away and was only able to take her daughter with her. They escaped and was never found again. The boy was left with his father and was shut from the world.
After a long time, the witch decided to return to the village with her daughter to see her family. The townspeople heard about it and was furious. They came for her and her daughter as they arrived in the village.
The townspeople burned every houses and killed everyone. The witch had no choice but to hide her daughter to save her. So, she used every bit of magic that was left in her and turned her daughter into a flower, then the townspeople came and ended the witch’s life.
Before the witch died, she told her daughter to find her twin and tell him that she loved him with every bit of her heart.
The girl then looked at Zenn and said,
“But it wasn’t the girl who found her twin. It was her twin, that found her.”
Zenn looked at the girl with tears in his eyes.
He need not to say anything.
it was him.
© 2020 Christine Lucero. All Rights Reserved.
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