as tears rolled down my face.
You must be wondering what is happening or how I got into whatever the situation might be.
My name is Alphi, my story is not a happy one but rather a tale of mystery, loneliness, and struggle. I lived in a small house isolated from the town and located in the deepest part of the forest, it was surrounded by tall trees and bushes. The only family I had was my father, I had never met my mother. Hearing this you would think me and my father were close but it was quite the opposite. Me and my father barely even spoke to each other, he was violent and aggressive and for some reason, he was always angry. I was always curious as to where my mother was, is she even alive? The question always remained in my mind, whenever I asked my so-called father about her he would get angry and beat me up. I could only imagine and hope to one day be answered. I practically grew up alone, left to fend for myself. My father would leave me alone at home with barely anything to eat. So I survived on herbs and plants, well since we lived in a forest. At times I felt like running away, but that wouldn't fix anything since I had no one to run to. Father would go out, come back drunk, and beat me when he felt like it, like I was some kind of punching bag. The only person who took care of me or at the very least even cared was my neighbor.
I couldn't understand why someone like her was living in the woods, not like I knew why we were in the forest either, and of course, father hated the idea of me going to her place.
As I got older, I started to notice changes. For instance, my hair started to change color. I didn't know if it was normal since I had never met any other child before. My hair, which was originally blond, started to turn a bright red color and obviously father noticed this too. His attitude towards me worsened. I was not sure why my hair was changing color or what I had ever done to my father to deserve this kind of hatred.
Like one night, while my dad was out, I went to my neighbor's house to stay for a while, well like I usually do. Unfortunately for me, I lost track of time, slept off, and came home late.
My dear father beat me up so badly that I had bruises all over, but it didn't even bother him. He only felt satisfied when I was bleeding all over.
This is how it had always been for me. Well, over the years, I have gotten used to the brutality, so it's nothing new.
The good thing is that, for some reason, my wounds healed abnormally fast, but I didn't know this. How could I, when I have never seen another injured person in my life?
You think that's bad? Well, guess what—I don't even know my name. Well, I do now, but that wasn't the case a while ago.
I was grateful that at least the neighbor cared.
Day went by quickly, and my birthday approached. You'd think that's great, or that I'd get to enjoy it, but we all know that's not what's going to happen.
I wasn't even excited—why would I? Knowing Dad, he wouldn't even remember, let alone celebrate.
Little did I know that my life was in for a huge It was the night before my 16th birthday when everything changed. I went to my neighbor's house.
Somehow, my neighbor remembered my birthday and my father did not. She said she wanted to give me something, and like every child, I was curious.
I had never been gifted anything before, so of course I was excited.
She went inside her room to get something while I waited in the living room, imagining what the gift could be. Maybe shoes, a dress, a hair clip—it didn't really matter. Anything would make me happy.
She returned with a small, fancy wooden box.
"It was your mother's," she said.
A lot of questions ran through my mind—how did she know my mother? What was in the box? Why did she never tell me about my mother?
I silently opened the box. Inside was a beautiful necklace with a blue crystal at the center.
I stared at the necklace in awe and confusion. If it was my mother's, why did she have it?
Then my neighbor said, "You are finally ready."
"For what?" I asked, but she just smiled and said, "Find your origin."
If you are wondering why I call her my neighbor instead of her actual name, well, that's because I don't know her name. I know what you're thinking—I'm a terrible person, but it's really not my fault. I've asked her name so many times, but she refuses to tell me and says I should just call her Aunt.
Now that that's cleared, let's get back to the story, shall we?
I was speechless, but I put it on anyway—I just couldn't resist. Memories started flooding through my mind—of people and places I had never seen before.
I collapsed almost immediately, and when I woke up again, I was alone in the house. My head was pounding, and I was in a state of total confusion.
I forced myself to get up and searched for my neighbor around the house, but she was gone—as if she had never existed.
I sat in the living room in panic and absolute devastation. As if my life was not bad enough, now the only person who seemed to care about me was gone—just like that.
What was I supposed to do?
Tears rolled down my cheeks and I burst into as I clutched the necklace—the only thing keeping me sane . The silence in the house was heavy and uncomfortable, questions running through my mind with no one to answer.