Over the Hill

Where is Helena? Something her family asked every day, and everyone in the town is familiar with. Never where she is supposed to be, Helena explored the areas she was told never to go near.

Her curiosity always

got the best of her.

The old, abandoned town

near the edge sat vacant. Everyone was too afraid to even step foot over the

hill, let alone look at the hallow structures. But not Helena.

"Come on,

Helena," her friend Mina urged her to go back to the city. "It's so

creepy, I don't want to. The Elders have told us not to."

"Oh, calm down

Mina. It's not like it's gonna bite you." Helena laughed, looking around

the clearing before crawling a bit closer. "Why is everyone so

afraid?"

Letting out a whine,

Mina grabbed at Helena's ankle to stop her. "You know the rules. Besides,

they don't go there because there isn't a reason to be there."

Helena rolled her eyes,

pulling back and looking at Mina.

"That's a load of

crap, and you know it." Helena smirked, sliding down the hill to the edge

of the old town.

Mina, scared of being

left behind, took a breath, and slid down the hill with her. Helping her up,

Helena took lead as usual, and nearly strutted towards the closest building.

The ground looked gray,

void of life as the dust kicked up with each step. The cloud covered sky gave

an ominous feeling as it overlooked the town. The buildings that laid before

them, were blackened, marked with a big red X above the door frame. The windows

were blown out, the glass scattered across the ground, glinting in the light

that shined through the clouds.

"We shouldn't be

here." Mina whined, holding herself as they passed the doorway.

"Mina, you didn't

have to come." Helena's voice had a hint of annoyance in it. Mina always

complained about their antics, but never left Helena's side.

Once inside, they

looked around, recognizing the interior as a home. Someone's home. Everything

was charred, but remnants of furniture still stood in their place. A tattered

rug and picture frames scattered the floor. Helena grabbed a frame and tried to

wipe the ash away from the glass.

"What are you

doing?" Mina hissed, rushing closer.

"The Elders said

that savages used to live here. That they wouldn't heed their warnings."

Finally wiping enough off, the face of a young girl appeared. "They don't

look like savages to me."

"Over here!"

A voice from outside called. Mina and Helena gasped, looking at each other.

"Footprints leading in."

Helena groaned as Mina

whined softly. "I told you!"

As the footsteps

approached, Helena searched the home, pulling the photo from the frame and

tucking it away in her person. She grabbed Mina and threw her into a backroom,

before hiding behind a wall.

As the footsteps

approached, they stop just short of the entrance. "Helena, we know you're

in there!" Marshall Fletcher stood in the doorway, calling in. "Come

on, you and your friend."

"Just me,

Marshall." Helena rounded the corner and put her hands up in defeat.

"Don't you ever

get tired of detention?" He groaned, stepping inside, pulling her hands

behind her back, and cuffing them.

"Don't you ever

get tired of doing what you're told?" Helena remarked, laughing softly as

he shoved her out the door.

"To the detention

center." Fletcher said, having his men take her back over the hill. He

turned back to room and called in. "Come on, Mina. I promise, you aren't

in trouble."

Mina slowly crept out

of the room. "I... I tried to stop her." She said sheepishly, walking

past Marshall.

"I know." His

replied, exasperatedly.

They walked back over

the hill, leaving behind the old town.

In the detention

center, Helena sat on a wooden bench, scrubbing the iron pots and pans as best

she could. The various odd jobs within the center were dwindling in surprise as

she has done nearly every job she could.

Fletcher walked into

the area, relieving the guard on duty. Grabbing another bench, he sat it down

next to her. He watched in silence as Helena scrubbed the pots clean then into

the clean cart. As added punishment, they made her wear the itchy wool, drab

clothing during the summertime. Yet, she seemed completely unfazed by the

clothing.

Fletcher sighed,

leaning on his knees as he looked over at Helena. "Why do you do

this?"

Helena paused, looking

over at him with a curious look. "What?"

"You get in

trouble, you get punished, you repeat. You're never where you're supposed to

be. And you never do what you're told." He sighed again, rubbing his face.

"We could have had been married by now..."

Helena rolled her eyes,

putting the scrubber and pot down. "Is that what this is about?"

Fletcher paused,

staring out at the courtyard. "Maybe..."

Sighing softly, she

leaned back into the wall. "I have never done what I was told. I was never

where I was supposed to be. Why wouldn't I be the same as an adult?"

"You're supposed

to grow out of that!" He groaned, rubbing his forehead. "I grew out

of that and look at me. I'm Marshall now and I have a great position within the

community. What about you?"

"What about

me?" Her voice held a bit of a bite as she leaned closer.

Fletcher sighed again,

standing up and fixing his suit. "The Elders still believe we should be

married. So tomorrow, at two p.m., we will be married, and you can put all

these childish antics behind you."

Helena shot up from her

bench, opening her mouth to protest, but stopped when Fletcher shot her a look.

"It's either that

or the Elders grant the final punishment." His look turned grave.

Helena's heart sank and

body went cold at the idea of the final punishment. She turned to the gallows

above the wall, the rope swinging in the wind.

"They thought it

was funny when you were a child. Now it is time to be an adult. It is our

responsibility, to the community, to provide this world with our children, just

like everyone else." Fletcher walked towards the doors, calling over the

other guard. "Escort her to her parents."

With that, he left.

The gallows above

reminded her of all the others before her that hung above the town's walls,

claiming the individuals who broke the rules or harmed others. But never would

she have thought that exploring would be the death of her.

In her home, she sat at

the table, staring down at her bowl of stew her mother made. Her grandmother

sat next to her, sipping on the broth with each spoonful.

"Helena, are you

okay?" Her mother asked, sitting across from her.

"Yeah..."

Helena said softly, stirring the stew before bringing the spoon to her lips.

"So, we confirmed

with Fletcher's parents of tomorrows ceremony." Her mother beamed.

"Again." Her

grandmother said in her raspy voice between sips of her stew.

At some point, in

everyone's lives within the community has to marry someone. No one goes

untethered, as the Elders put it.

Aside from getting

married, everyone in the community had to contribute in one way or another.

Helena and her family cared for the livestock of the town. Her four older siblings,

all brothers, helped on the ranches with their families.

As unusual as it was,

the Elders betrothed Fletcher and Helena, in hopes her antics of running off

would stop if she was tied to the Marshall. But that only made her miss her

first wedding, last week, and send her to the detention center with kitchen

duty for the school.

If it wasn't the old

town, it was the mines or the forest. She once even made it to the town of

Sunkirst near the ocean. She wasn't permitted to leave, but asking was never her

forte. Let alone she had no reason, other than to see the sea.

"Are you going to

make it this time?" Her eldest brother Michael asked.

The whole dining room

was filled with her four brothers, their wives, a child each, her parents, and

her grandmother. Altogether, including Helena, was sixteen people, under one

roof for the night. Fourteen pairs of eyes turned towards Helena, sans her

grandmother who finished her stew and began chewing on her bread.

"Well, it's that

or the gallows... So, I guess, I should try on the dress to see if it still

fits." Helena said softly, pushing her stew away.

Standing up, she headed

towards her room, laying down on the bed. Not long after she settled in, her

father walked in, tapping on the door.

"Can I?" He

asked, wanting to come in.

"I don't see why

not." She replied, not taking her eyes off the ceiling.

He closed the door

behind him and sat at the edge of her bed. Like her brothers, he smelled of

cattle and hay, something she was used to. Recently, she had to grow accustomed

to once again from her lack of presence in the family work.

"Doing alright?

Getting nervous?" He said as lightheartedly as he could.

Helena paused,

hesitating on what she wanted to say. Her parents would always claim they

wanted the best for her, asking her to behave and to stop getting into trouble.

But with five kids, and four of them being boys, it made it difficult to pay

attention to her until she was in trouble.

"Yeah, I guess

so." She sat up and looked over at her father. "When was the last

time anyone married outside of the community?"

He paused, as if he was

actually thinking about it. "Well, I believe it was around when your

grandmother was young and getting married. There was a whole party of eligible

women in our community that were of marrying age. Hoping there wasn't a chance

of inbreeding, we looked to the other communities nearby for eligible men. It

worked out and that was that."

Helena sat in silence

for a moment. "What about the old town?" She finally asked.

"Weren't they apart of the community or something like that."

The Elders and schools

barely spoke about the old town. Only that the people within were savages and

they burned themselves to the ground when they didn't heed their warnings. It

was never clear and if there were questions asked, they were never answered.

He father just

shrugged. "It’s best not to ask about that town. Or go in it." He

sighed. "Besides, you are getting married tomorrow, and you will be with

Fletcher from then on. Don't go forgetting about us when you and he live in

that newly built house."

The house provided, was

nearly in the middle of town. Helena assumed it was so she couldn't sneak off

without being spotted, or at least everyone would know where she was at all

times.

"We may live in

the outskirts of the town, but I doubt I would forget to visit." She

smiled softly.

Giving her a pat on the

leg, her father kissed her forehead goodnight then left the room.

Helena laid back down,

turning on her light. Checking the door, she pulled out the photo from her

person and looked at the little girl in the photo.

"Savages,

huh?" She said softly. Pulling out a piece of cloth from her nightstand,

she started rubbing the rest of the ash and soot off.

As clean as it could

be, the photo revealed a small family in the photo. The little girl was

accompanied by her parents. They were dressed nice and had smiles on their

faces as they stood in front of a house.

They looked the farthest from savages.

Helena sat on her bed and stared at the family, wondering why. The child looked familiar, but not sure where.

“Where did you get that?” Her grandmothers raspy voice startled her. “Let me see that.”

“Grandma, I-” Helena started, but her grandmother sat next to her and grabbed the photo.

She sat in silence as she stared at the photo, looking sullen. Her hands brushed over the faces of the parents, a tear falling down her cheek. Helena wanted to speak, but it seemed like she was getting the answer before she could even ask.

“My parents, did not make the fire…” Her grandmother said softly.

“They were…” Helena was stunned, confused.

“I was married to a man from the Sunkirst community. We lived in this community while my parents and some of the other girl’s parents stayed over the hill. They weren’t savages; they just couldn’t make it over the hill anymore.” She sighed, holding the photo to her. “I thought I’d never see their faces again.”

Helena couldn’t help the tears that fell. Her grandmothers’ parents were killed by their own community leaders.

“So, they were killed… Because they were old?” She asked, sitting at the edge of the bed with her grandmother.

“No. They were killed for disobeying.” She sighed again. “You see, you get your love for exploring from your great grandparents. They loved to travel when it was allowed. But something happened and the Elders forbade anyone from leaving the community unless it was for trading. My parents, and some of the others did not care for this rule. They disobeyed and… that was that.”

Helena leaned into her grandmother, placing an arm around her and held her tightly. Words could not express how she felt for her grandmother.

“If I don’t wish to meet the same fate, I shall put on the dress.” Helena said, an icy chill washing over her.

Her grandmother patted her back and sighed. “Well, too bad you can’t run in the dress. But a horse sure could.” Standing up, she took the photo with her and left the room.

Puzzled by her words, Helena sat on her bed in the dark, dreading the next day to come.