Redalynne wept until her throat ran dry. Momma died from her birth, and now father had the black sickness. His death bed awaited, menacingly calling him over . Red held her fathers tightly when he began to utter his last words.

"I know that you and Gramma Yayha don't get along," his grip got tighter. "But she is now your only living relative. That means you will be living with her. Your eight years old, and adulthood is still far away. Just know she doesn't hate you, and only resents you. She hated your mom, and your the spitting image."

He began to hack up a dark thick bile. It oozed and bubbled down his face He wiped his chin, then grabbed Red's face tenderly, and his eyes found hers.

" You must listen to her. Trust me, I lived with her before," her father smirked, as if it was an inside joke. " She can be a bit overbearing, but if you cross her, things will get worse. Just listen, and do as she says. I know it will be rough, but you don't have a choice. She is the only living relative within the village. I would rather have you live in a caring home, but within this village its the law."

He grabbed her, and pulled her into a hug, as he lied in the hospital bed. 

"Be strong Red, and never let her rule over your anger. Anger only makes it worse, and with Gramma anger will only stir her pot more," 

His final words were a whisper. "I love you"

His last inch of life escaped, and his body fell back. His eyes stared back at Redalynnes, coursing themselves into her very core. His motionless body rested on top of the gurney. A med-aid grabbed Red by the arm using force, and pushed her out of the door. Gramma Yayha waited down the hall with a smirk. Not just any smirk, but one filled with nothing but evil intentions.

"You will do as I say for now on," she spat. " I am in charge. Your nothing but a child, so you have no authority. Are we clear. "

Redalynne meekly nodded, before she went to gather her things. Gramma was right. She was only a child at the tender age of eight. She had no reason to be in charge. It would only be ten years, she thought to herself. Then I can live on my own, and out of her hair for good. She just hoped that the next ten years wouldn't be too hard. Daddy's words did not leave much room for encouragement. She grabbed her bags as Yayha glared back.

"Do you really need all of that," she said with a deep scowl across her face. "You just assume I have room for all of that." She humphed, then turned on her heel.

She walked in front of Red, and Red followed obediently as her eyes never left the ground. Gramma Yayha did not turn back to look at Red, not even once. They walked on through the Medhouse's door, and down the dirt covered roads. Wooden houses passed by as the walked on. Many looked old, some with a cracked foundation. Some others with the wood warped and splintered. Livestock could be seen grazing, or resting under the sun. Tall stone walls encircled the village, as a barricade to keep the wolves out. Or maybe, it was to keep its residents in. Redalynne has never made a trip from the stone that trapped her, and the people of her village. Some have, but not her. She often wondered what could be on the other side.

They made their way to Gramma's house. The front steps creaked in agony as they made their way up to the front door. Yayha put her key into the door, and slammed it a couple times with her elbow to open it. A lonely rocking chair sat in front of a fireplace, a fat cat at its feet curled up and asleep. The living room was quaint, and minute. No sofa's or chairs for guests could be seen. Just the solitary chair, the fire place and what looked like a closet. The room had a musk smell of mothballs,and ash from the fireplace. The kitchen was a little bigger but still rather small. A wash basin stood at the far wall between a fridge and a small counter attached to the wood burning stove. A tiny table for one was located the the corner of the room, with a shabby looking wooden chair. A flight of stairs reached upwards. They walked up the stairs, and they appeared even creakier then the ones at the front of the home.

"Bathroom," said Gramma as she pointed to a closed door on the right side of a hallway. "and that," she pointed to a door at the end of the hall. "Is my room, and you must never go in there." 

Gramma Yayha pulled on a cord attached to the roof, and a set of stairs popped out. "You will sleep up there. now bring your belongings to your room, and come down stairs to prepare supper." 

"But, but..." Red stammered. " I am only eight years old Gramma, I don't know how to cook." 

Yayha puffed out a long breath. "Well you better learn," she sounded annoyed." I'm old, and I am sure your not blind. You can see that , right. I am going to need you to pull a lot of extra weight around here. I'm not surprised your father didn't teach you any life skills." She gave her head a shake. "I thought I raised Juul better, but I guess that was all lost when he married your mother. Heavens, she was such an ugly woman. You look like her too.." Yayha looked down at Red scrupulously. "Be quick now."

Red did as she was told, and scrambled up the wobbly steps. The attic, her room was even smaller then the living room. A thin blanket lied across the floor, and a small nightstand stood in the corner ; making the room feel tight and Red claustrophobic. A small circular window rested itself against the wall, being the only source of light. 

Redalynne tossed her bag of clothes on the blanket, and placed her bag of books and other numerous things on the nightstand. She opened it and took out two framed photographs. One, of her and her Father in a tight embrace. Red had a toothy smile, with two of her baby teeth missing at the front. Her father, Juul beamed as he stared at the camera, He had a thick beard, which Red remembered kept tickling her. The other photo was of her dad and her mom. She wore a lacy white dress, as Juul had a grey suit. His arm was around his wife, Marian's. She had a glimmer in her eyes as she looked up at her new husband to be. Red thought she had the most beautiful smile ever. Gramma was crazy, her mother was a real peach. Often Red wished that she could have met her mother. Her father said it wasn't her fault, but deep down that has always been what Red felt. Momma died while giving labor to her. 

Red moved her book bag, and placed both pictures on the nightstand. She kissed each photo before going downstairs. Her Gramma was waiting in the kitchen with her arms crossed over her chest. The snide look on her face spoke impatience. 

''About bloody time," Gramma retorted. "Here," She thrust a potato peeler into Red's tiny hands. "Peel this entire bag of potatoes. Slice them in fourths, then boil them on the stove. Once they are soft you can drain the water add some cream, chives and butter, and start mashing with this," she explains as she hands off the masher to Reds other hand. "Should be easy enough for you. I threw a lamb roast over the fire. Just make sure to flip it and turn it every fifteen minutes or so. I did the harder part, by seasoning the roast. This is a simple task, Redalynne." 

She followed her Gramma's orders, making her hands cramp up from peeling so many potatoes. She rubbed them here and there to ease the soreness, and groaned when she realized the bag was only just slightly under, halfway empty. She made no fuss, and held her tongue, as Yayha sat at the small table in the corner of the kitchen. She held an old leather bound book in her hands. When she wasn't reading, her eyes glared back at Red as she watched her peel, and peel some more. Sometimes she would bark a reminder to flip the roast. Other then that, no words were exchanged. Time neared on, and the blackness came about. Finally Red finished skinning the last potato, when the clock struck 9 PM. She threw the pot of taters on top of the stove and gave the roast its final flip before taking it out of the fire with a pair of oven gloves. She could smell the char of the meat, and was afraid to show Gramma that it has been slightly burned. She couldn't hide it however, as Yayha now stood behind her, hands on her hips with her lips pursed. 

"This can't be a constant issue, Redalynne, " the name sounded bitter, as she let the words out. you ruined the roast, and its already 9 O'clock. Who eats dinner past nine. You are ridiculous child. Absolutely ridiculous. I will take it from here, once your done mashing and you can start cleaning the floors. No eating until my floor is spotless." 

Redalynne swept, then got on her hands and knees to scrub the floor. Her limbs felt tired, and her stomach felt bare, as it gave a low grumble. Gramma Yayha sat at the table smacking and licking her fingers as she watched her slave go to work. Redalynne did not eat until after 10:00 PM. After supper, she washed Gramma's socks in the washbasin by hand. After the socks were cleaned she did all the dishes, and finally after midnight she went to bed. She crashed onto the floor, and shivered as she wrapped the thin blanket around her. The ground was hard, cold and uncomfortable, but she grew rather tired. She cried herself to sleep, and wished that ten years would pass and that she could be on her own when she wakes up tomorrow morning. Of course Red was smart enough to know that these upcoming ten years were going to be the longest years of her life.  

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