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The Three Sillies

Author: B. Shenanigan
last update Last Updated: 2020-10-26 05:32:06

For years, Hana was the only person in the convent I called friend and considered my family, but not until the three girls.

     The first one was Agnes. When she arrived at the convent with her mother, she was actually ecstatic. She was from a family of nine and they could barely fill their mouths, so her parents decided that someone needed to go, and she merrily volunteered.

     She was willowy with long legs and her fingernails were full of dirt. That day, she shed a tear when she received her new wardrobe, and wept more when she had her first decent meal. She seemed really happy.

     But after a few weeks, I caught her crying on her sleep. New clothes and decent meals were not enough to fill the infinite void she had from losing her siblings.

     So, during a class, I asked her to describe them, and one-by-one I drew versions of her that were slightly unalike, no worries, for I did not include her horrible parents. She sobbed happily as she stared at the first gift she had ever received.

     From then on, she became the first confidante whom I shared pranks with. She enjoyed them, but she was terrible.

     Then came Fatma. Like Hana and I, she grew up on the convent, but she was always timid around a crowd and it made her invisible. I never really noticed her until that day.

     I dared Agnes to steal an apple from the pantry that afternoon. She was there for more than we expected, so I decided to check on her. But as I went out my quarter, there she was standing without an apple, but a bruised girl.

     We learned that Fatma was being persistently bullied by a group of girls her age, and it was because of her complexion. For she had a beautiful caramel skin.

     I knew that I had to adopt the helpless little girl, and what grand way to welcome her on our pack, but to get back at her bullies.

     The next day, Agnes, Fatma, and I undergone our plan. Fatma was reading under the sycamore tree across the farm while Agnes was leading the bullies towards the scene.

     As soon as the three girls arrived, they started harassing Fatma. They tore the book she was reading, that was mine, and they kept poking her while they called her awful names.

     When they finally stood on the mark, I whistled from above. Fatma knew what it meant, so she moved away from them. And then I hastily spilled the oozing mixture of horse dump and mud over their heads. They shrieked like pigs as filth engulf them.

     That was the first trick we three pulled off, and it was not the last. 

     The final member of our gang was sweet little Edith. No one really knew her story, not because she didn’t want to talk about it, she just simply can’t.

     All that was known was a good farmer caught Edith stealing cabbages on his yard, and instead of punishing the little girl, he clothed and fed her. But the wife complained that they could not afford another mouth to feed, so the kindred man brought her to the convent. Edith was five then. 

     For weeks, she wore the same rugged overall which was too long for her and too thin for the winter. No sister could tend to her for she had always erupted with outbursts. She was very resistant to touch, and so we didn’t force her for it may scare her more. We understood that all was a stranger to Edith, and that she probably hated strangers. Who doesn’t right?

     But one day, it poured and Agnes, Fatma, and I were caught in it. We knew that it was forbidden, but we still danced around the pool of rainfall. We jumped, we splashed, and we shouted over the rain.

     As we enjoyed our zestful ritual, a little silhouette decided to partake. That was the first interaction she had with anyone during her stay in the convent. We were surprised in a moment, but we heard her little laughs and we saw her jumped in excitement, and it made our later penance worth it. 

     After that, Edith always tailed us like a pup. We were glad that there were three less strangers in her life in the convent, and that she was the last piece of us.

     Hana was a blessing and I was so favored to had three more. I knew I could carry on with life despite where, as long as I am with all of them. Maybe it was the people that makes a place to be truly a home, for all one can wish for in life is a family, or just a person, to really belong.

     They say that we met people for certain reasons. Maybe I needed them and they had to have me.

     We stayed the whole afternoon laying on bed of straws. Not because we were afraid that we might pass by the men if we gone out, maybe slightly, but because we wanted to savor the afternoon and wander our minds elsewhere, amidst all what was happening.

     I was about to doze off, when Fatma screamed so loud my ears almost burst.

     “What’s wrong?” I asked as she danced in circles, trying to shrug something off her clothes.

     “There’s a bug, it went in. Please get it off, get it off!” She desperately pleaded. She grasped the end of her wimple to wear it off, “Oh my, it feels like a spider…”

     “She hates spider.” Agnes informed me like I had no idea, I just nodded. But Edith signed, “We know, stupid.”

      We stared at the Petrified Fatma who unwarily kept dancing like a fowl, but Agnes did not even to bother to hold her laugh, and it made Edith and I rung with laughter too.

     “It is not funny guys, I said help!” Fatma complained. For a timid girl she sure had a loud mouth.

     “Stay still. We can’t help you if you keep dancing like a chicken.” I told her.

     Agnes imitated her, but included, a “Bok, bok, bok!” sound, and it seemed that it was necessary to add a “Cock-a-doodle-doo!”, so I did.

     We cackled more loudly, even Fatma, but we stopped as the door of the stable slid open. A boy strutted towards us, and I recognized him immediately. It was the flimsy boy, “Is everything alright? I was passing by when I heard a scream.”

     His blue eyes were staring at me, and it made me forget that I have my tongue, “Are you okay?” He asked again.

     Rufus whined as he moved closer, and it woke me of my short disablement, “You can’t just burst in whenever you like.”

     “Is that a yes or a no?” He grinned.

     I did not understand him so all I said was “What?” What was his question again?

     “I asked you is everything all right.” His tone changed back to concern.

   

“Yes. And even if it’s not, it’s none of your business, we, are none of your business.” I sourly replied while I posed my hands on my hips, acting tough.

     “Are you thanking me? You are welcome then.”

     “What? No!” I answered wide eyed, and it made him laugh.

     I noticed we had an audience, and they were looking at me like I grew another head, so I said, “Go away, boy!”

     “Actually, my name is Gabriel, not boy. Can I know yours?” 

     “Are you making fun of me? I didn’t ask for your name, I said go.” I extended my arm at the door. “Or do you want me to walk you out myself?”

     He just shrugged in agreement, “Lead me out then.”

     I thought of holding his hand, but that would be awkward, so I snatched his sleeve instead. He willingly followed me. I pushed him out the stable, and as I closed the door with so much vigor, he again turned at me and said, “Nice crown, your highness.” He chuckled.

     I was so embarrassed that I successfully shut the door in his face, even alone. What is wrong with that boy? I turned my back on the aperture, and the girls were lined up and still wearing their baffled faces so I redirected what happened, “Is the spider gone?”

     No one answered. It was so quiet that I could only hear the choir of cicadas from the outside and the breathing of horses from the stalls. But it broke when Edith came closer, and curiously signed to me, “Is that your prince, princess?”

     All of them cackled. I was so disgusted that I started striking them with a rod of straws. They ran off from me, and then one by one they lustily chanted, “Tilly has a boyfriend, Tilly has a boyfriend.”

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  • Mathilda   The Girl Who Left

    I was unmoving. Three months had passed but the convent remained to be an abyss of nothingness. Not because Hana and Gabriel were nowhere here, but because I realized that, time is still in the convent. Everything outside was constantly growing and changing, while inside, nothing was happening. We were only praying, singing, and doing chores repeatedly as time passed by. Then we would wither, and that was the end of it. I already knew this before, but I only fully realized now because of the changes that the knights of Saint Christopher endowed. I am not saying I enjoyed the challenges, the problems, and the pain, but I grew as a person because of it. I was unmoving. And I wanted the world to see me move. I raised my hand, and interrupted Siter Rene or Mother Rene as she continued with the homily which she already discussed thrice now. I n

  • Mathilda   The Girl Who Stayed

    Days had passed, and Gabriel was still resting in the infirmary. He was enjoying the comfort and the attention. He will wake up the moment he had gotten tired of it. I was telling myself that to feel ease, and to assure myself that he would wake up. But it was starting to work less. I was alone with him, and his father was letting me which I found odd given his nature. But he kept surprising me, for there were times that he would visit Gabriel. He would stand behind the door and watched him from there. They did not have the best relationship, I assumed. I turned the pages of the book in my hand, and started reading it, “Long ago, the land of Hemsworth was cursed by the witch they had burned at the stake. Her words withered the crops and killed the livestock, making everyone famished.” “The people started stealing from the table of their nei

  • Mathilda   The Sleeping Seraph

    She was her title to me. A mother. The sisters raised us all, but I called her mother when I was two. And I only stopped calling her that when I found out the definition of convent in the encyclopedia, why there were lots of sisters and no fathers in our home, and why we were praying words we could not understand instead of playing. But still, even it was only her title and even I halted calling her mama, she never stopped being one to me. She would sing me a song on my bed because the night was too long for a child. She would reprimand me with a stick on her hand but she never actually hit me. She would explain the whys I could not get from books. And she would carry me from the ground because I got tired from playing to much. She became the figure I longed for as a child and she painted my childhood with affection. And because of that, I was able to know what was love like. I was able t

  • Mathilda   The Irony

    “How could she be the same sister if the photo was taken decades ago?” I asked Gabriel. “I don’t know, but you are looking at its result.” His was starting to be breathy. “Do you think it is really possible that this is Mother Renata?” I asked again. But Gabriel did not respond as he was bearing the pain. He was paler than before, and when I looked at his arm, the wimple around it was not drenched from his blood. “We have to go.” I announced, hiding the photograph on my cloth pocket. And then I carried his weight again. He was grunting the whole time we were climbing the stairs. When we reached the opened door, I peeked out, seeing that the chapter house was still silent and empty. I sat him on a chair, so I could slide back the wall. And when I turned back around, Mother Renata was calmly gazing at

  • Mathilda   The Abyss of Bones

    The blood was fresh. And it was on the tip of her lips on her calmed face, but as I kept my sight on her, there was something I could not fathom. She seemed someone that she was not, like the convent. At first glance, it looked like a place where you could seek warmth during the cold of the night, but as you entered it, there was no warmth, only emptiness. I was afraid, but I was curious to see her, so I stayed hidden and I kept watching as she gone on. I realized that she was not her, but she wore the face of Mother Renata. Then the door closed, and silence befell the room again. You have to inform her about the knights, I reminded myself. The table helped me stood, and I waited for her to come back but the door did not open. I walked to it instead, so I could open it on my own. However, the room on the back of the wall was calling me. I could not resist it.&nb

  • Mathilda   The Behemoth

    The convent was still. All was exactly how it was before, the deserted grounds after sundown, the gate that never closed, and the calming eeriness. But as I entered the opening of the compound, I immediately caught the slanted cross on the corner where they gave Philip damnation, reminding me of the enemy. The knights were nowhere in the area. I was right that they summoned everyone to storm at us. I heeded myself to hurry, for I have to find my sisters. But when I jumped off the horse, my leg got caught on the saddle. I hasten to untangle myself on the strap of the seat until I fell on the ground. I was hurting that I stayed on the ground, feeling the earth on my body, and feeling nothing on my leg. And then I heard the father again, hurting me more, “You don’t know how to distinguish an enemy.” “You have been

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