Oh, to be seven years old again and so blissfully unaware.
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LYDA WAS TWO DAYS INTO BEING EIGHT WHEN THE WORLD BROUGHT HER TO HER KNEES FOR THE FIRST TIME. She had been eight when her comfort was ripped from the confines of her soul and sold to whoever was greedy enough to indulge in it. She was eight when she witnessed her father being killed by the plough she'd seen so many times throughout her childhood, eight when her beloved Papa's head bled out in her arms as she wailed in confusion for her older brothers to help, eight when she tried to grasp at her Papa as he was swept away into the darkness of death, eight when her home was sold along with all her things apart from a few items of clothing, eight when her eldest brother moved them from Lij to Ketterdam— away from the fields she'd known all her life.

Lyda had not enjoyed being eight at all, in fact, eight seemed to be the age she hated most.

She'd been plagued with dreams, horrible dreams, ones that made her relive that day but in a plethora of ways. One night it would be raining in her dream and her father would stumble towards her like a zombie, drawling her name in a sickeningly sweet tone broken up by the blood spewing from his mouth and another night it would be her in the place of her father suffering just as he did.

Jordie and Kaz Rietveld didn't know what to do.

Kaz had been lucky not to have seen their father after the incident. In fact, he'd been the one to run and get doctors or whoever would help. Fourteen year old Jordie had found Lyda and carefully pried her frail body away from their dead father. Jordie had been the one to keep Kaz at bay as the doctor from the village examined the very dead body and told the two siblings that he'd send someone to collect the corpse.

Jordie had been the one to stoically nod and listen as his littlest sister merely stared and as his brother yelled and begged to join the comfort of their sides. Jordie wouldn't let him. He wouldn't let another one of his siblings set eyes on the disaster ahead of him. Once the doctor left the Rietvelds, Jordie had immediately crouched to Lyda's level.

"Run to Kaz, Lyds," he had mumbled, his hand pushing the girl's blood-soaked hair out of her eyes. "Get water and wash off everything." The girl had snapped out of her stupor at the nickname and had nodded before running towards her other brother, only two years her senior.

The image of Lyda running towards him through the fields covered in a deep and dried crimson, was unforgettable to Kaz. It had become a staple memory of his youth, one that often plagued his nightmares and sharp memory. She had been so little, her head barely above the wheat in the golden field. When she had reached her brother, he had stepped away from her incoming embrace in shock at the sight. It was only when tears flooded her eyes, did Kaz envelop his sister in his arms and guide her towards their farmhouse.

That was the last thing Lyda remembered of that day. She blocked out everything else, her mind fortifying itself against further monsters penetrating her soul, yet it seemed to filter through to corrupt the bliss of her sleeping mind.

And so the dreams continued and the young girl remained haunted by the incident. Each and every night she woke up to the feeling of thick blood dripping down her skin and permeating the pale barrier to permanently stain it. Her fingers would try to scratch it off and try to yank it out of her hair. Her brothers would awake with her, their bodies either side of her fragile frame doing little to protect her from her destructive mind.

Jordie would be first to act. He would hold her close and pry her hands from her skin and hair, his warm grip doing its best to soothe her. He would rock her as if she were a toddler while Kaz would watch helplessly. The youngest boy's eyes would always watch this unfold and keep to himself but as soon as Jordie would succumb back into his welcoming slumber, he would huddle close to Lyda and hold her small hands in his own and grip them so tightly so that she couldn't escape.

Jordie offered her relief whilst Kaz offered her protection, it had always been that way and Lyda didn't have to be older or wiser to notice it.

After months upon months of restless and rough nights, Lyda was gifted one night of serenity as the sirens blared all around the streets they slept on. She lay upon her eldest brother's chest as he feebly rocked her back and forth on the stone ground. Her young and sickened body had been too tired and weak to craft up a new evil. She had fallen asleep not bothered to question why Kaz had begun crying or why Jordie had stopped moving beneath her.

Yet in this serendipitous time, it seemed like the world once again had to remind the Rietveld girl of the cruelty that walked amongst the earth beneath them. Whilst Lyda had not been plagued by nightmares for that one night, it seemed as if she had been plagued by a plague itself and it was only when she coughed herself awake to find herself buried beneath the heavy weight of the dead, did Lyda realise how sickening the world truly was.

At eight, Lyda had cried and struggled beneath the burden of a cold, unbreathing Jordie Rietveld, whose dead arms remained wrapped around the girl tightly in a cruel attempt to protect her from her own mind. She had struggled and struggled, her screams echoing before another set of cries had joined her own. The smell of rotting flesh amongst the salty air was enough to instil the girl with a deep-rooted feeling of terror. She had been trapped for too long as she shrieked for her brother while Kaz tried to free her from Death's bony grip.

Lyda had cried as she washed up on the stones of the harbour beside her trembling brother and the corpse of what was once Jordie Rietveld. She had cried until she couldn't cry anymore.

And that had been the last memory Lyda possessed of being eight.

The rest was simply a work of fiction, a story untold and lost to a time before and there she would force it to stay.

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HELLO BEAUTIFUL PEOPLE, this is only the prologue to give you a bit of understanding about Lyda's character!

ANYWAYS, I hope you enjoyed this small prologue and I'll see you soon :')

LOVE YOU ALL,
-WINEAUNT