Little Phoenix (The Census Book 1)

by Willow Dean

  “No matter what happens, you will always have a place in our family. We will always welcome you with open arms, I promise you that.” I hold her tighter as she begins to sob at my admission.

  My heart aches for what she must have to endure at home. If I could, I would take her away from it all and have her live with us.

  Unfortunately, even though her parents may not agree with her personal choices, I know there is no way that they would ever let her leave home.

  “We have our whole lives ahead of us, Gem,” I console as I attempt to dry her tears with the bottom of my baggy short-sleeved shirt.

  She lets out a weak, strangled chuckle at my struggles as I get tangled up between my shirt and the sleeping bag. It’s like playing twister in a straight jacket.

  Bloody difficult I tell you!

  After finally managing to get my shirt back on straight and somehow managing the near impossible feat of not flashing her in the process, I settle back down and pull her close again.

  “Let me tell you a story that Mum always used to tell me at bedtime.”

  Giving a silent nod, her sobs become quiet sniffles as she listens intently.

  “Once upon a time, there was a little girl called Lila.” She snorts. “Lila thought that she had everything she could ever want in the world. She had two loving parents who treated her like a princess and she never wanted for anything. Soon to turn eighteen, her parents sat her down to discuss something of importance. The worried looks on their faces were so profound, that she thought the worst.

  “The first thing they said was that they loved her with all of their hearts, and that whatever happened in life, that would never change. She knew that of course. She couldn’t have asked for better parents. They’d always been so kind and understanding, supporting her in every way possible. She told them so and they were relieved.

  “As it turns out, she was adopted. They wanted to tell her before, but they were too scared of what she may think of them. With her reassurances, they knew their worries were unfounded.

  “When she was only a small child, her biological parents were unable to care for her properly, so they had her adopted into a loving and trusted family instead. A family who welcomed her into their home without question and raised her as their own.

  “She saw the fear in their eyes as they confessed everything. Striking and overwhelming, their eyes begged for her forgiveness. They froze up, waiting for her anger or resentment. Instead, Lila laughed graciously and took them both into her arms, surprising them with her affection.

  “She explained that to her, it did not matter whether they were related by blood or not. They were still her parents and nothing could change that. They cared for and nurtured her when those connected by blood could not do the same. They held her when she was scared. Kissed her boo-boo’s when she fell. Guided her through the toughest of times and most importantly, empowered and encouraged her to make her own decisions in life.

  “They showed her what true love and friendship really was, instilling in her the significance of being truthful and honest. They were the ones to demonstrate how to look past the surface to find what lies underneath, how to forgive and forget a person’s misgivings and to understand the motivation behind their actions.

  “Confiding in them, she opened up and told them that she didn’t want to seek out her biological parents. She was scared that they’d abandoned her because she had done something wrong, that they did not love her. Her parents disagreed, instead encouraging her to seek out the reasons behind their actions before refusing to allow them into her life.

  “They did not condone, nor dispute her parents actions. They simply made her consider what may have influenced their decisions, rather than making assumptions and taking things at face value. They helped her to understand that although to her, their actions may seem callous and hurtful, that it could equally have been a decision that was made from love.

  “A decision that protected her and provided her with a more prosperous future, to give her the life she truly deserved.” My voice falters with the overwhelming emotions that this story always elicits in me.

  Gem doesn’t even stir as I place a kiss on her forehead. Running my hand through her soft locks, her breathing remains irregular, yet the sounds of her sniffles are all but gone.

  “Gem, your parents may not show you their love through actions or words, but they are your parents nonetheless. We will always be here for you no matter what. Although we may not be of blood, we will stand by you through thick and thin. You’ll never be alone,” I assure her quietly.

  Pulling her closer as she twitches uneasily in her sleep, I lay there, listening to the sounds of the night until her breathing eases. Staring up at the dark canvas material, I contemplate what our futures may hold.

  One thing I know for sure, is that whatever comes our way, we will work through it.

  Together.

  6 Mila

  The musical notes of the birds and insects pulls me out of my slumber as the rays of warm sunshine beat down on our tent.

  It obviously got too hot in here overnight, seeing as both of us are now in nothing but our underwear with the sleeping bags balled up in a messy pile in the corner.

  This is exactly why neither of us dates. Aside from our somewhat appealing looks, we are practically Neanderthals that have just been born in the wrong era. Barely women at all when all we do is belch and act like gross stinky men most of the time.

  Dad must be up as the sweet smell of bacon and eggs wafts into the tent. Gem’s nose twitches as she unconsciously follows the scent, still half asleep. Seizing her arm, I bring her to a stop just as she reaches to unzip the tent.

  Scowling back at me, she lets loose a small growl. I swear, you do not ever want to get between Gem and her food. It is akin to trying to steal a mother bears cub from right under her nose.

  Complete and utter suicide.

  Running my eyes down her scantily clad body, her gaze follows mine and she wakes up with a jolt. Her cheeks flush a bright hue of red as she realizes just how little she is wearing and where exactly it was that she was heading just now.

  “Yeahhhh,” I wince. “I didn’t think you would fancy Daddio seeing you pretty much in your birthday suit,” I quip.

  Her underwear is so skimpy that it really serves no other purpose than to cover up the important parts.

  “Yikes.” She shudders and walks over to her bag. “Thanks Babe, I owe you one. I need to get me some of that liquid gold, STAT,” she mumbles with a yawn as she stretches out like a cat.

  Chucking some clothes on, making sure that we at least look presentable this time, we unzip the tent and sleepily stumble over to the campfire where Mum and Dad sit talking quietly.

  Giving us a quick hello, they hand us each a plate of mouthwatering bacon and eggs before we take a seat on our logs where there is already a cup of coffee waiting for Gem and an English tea for me.

  Scarfing down breakfast, we enjoy the view of the lake as the warm morning air dances and plays with the wayward strands of our hair.

  It’s a beautiful day. Ideal for climbing too.

  Above us, the sky is a vibrant blue with not a cloud in sight. The calm gentle breeze whistles it’s calming tune in time with the gentle lapping of water on the muddy bank.

  All of the birds and little critters of the forest chirp away behind us, creating a magical symphony of life.

  It’s perfect.

  Gem’s eyes are pretty much open now, thanks to the divine intervention of coffee. Just as she turns to me to say something, Dad pipes up.

  “Morning ladies, sleep well?”

  “Fine thanks, very toasty though. I think those sleeping bags did their job a little too well.” I side eye Gem as her cheeks pinken again.

  Raising her chin up, she looks straight out to the lake, acting like I never said a thing.

  “Soooo, what are the plans today?” I ask, grinning at her discomfort.

  “Well, that all depends on
your ankle. If it’s doing alright and you guys fancy some climbing, we can grab the gear from Joe’s and head out. I found some trekking routes that start at the top of the rock face, if you think you are up for it?”

  Quietly inspecting my ankle, I find the swelling is pretty much gone and the bruising has turned a sickly yellow color. Aside from a little ache, it’s more or less back to normal.

  “It seems fine now,” I shrug. “I’m all good to go. Are you up for that, Gem?”

  She mumbles her agreement, pretending to sip from her now empty coffee cup whilst keeping her eyes fixed on the lake.

  I only just manage to stop myself from snatching her cup up and prolonging her embarrassment. I can’t do anything about the snicker that works it way up my throat though.

  That comes out, all on it’s own.

  I’m so engrossed in torturing Gem, that it takes me a minute to notice my parents eyeballing my ankle with concern. A look passes between them, one that I can’t quite make out.

  Weird.

  “Awesome! I’ll go and grab the gear from Joe’s whilst you girls finish up here,” Dad replies with forced cheer as he sets off back up the track to Joe’s shack.

  With a quick look to Mum, she gives me a small smile before making her way over to the cooler bag. Gem and I set to washing the pots as she begins to make sandwiches for the trip.

  Dad’s still not back by the time we are finished cleaning up, so we all head off to change into our climbing gear and get ready for the day.

  I’m in the process of lacing up my walking boots when he strolls back on site with his arms full of climbing equipment. We distribute the equipment and fill our backpacks before setting off into the forest.

  The earthy scent of natural vegetation engulfs my senses as we step under the shelter of the trees. The towering forms of the Redwoods loom over us, offering protection from the blinding sun.

  The spindly yet luscious canopy, allows streams of sunlight to filter through and illuminate the soft red highlights embedded in the bark.

  Being in such close proximity to these giants of nature is absolutely breathtaking. Each individual tree appears the same, yet is wholly different than the next.

  Standing still for a moment, I place my hand on the bark and close my eyes, expanding my senses and opening myself up the air around me.

  Branches rustle gently in the wind as bird cheeps and cricket chirps join the natural melody with their tuneful songs. The cool breeze ebbs and swirls, carrying their notes far and wide.

  My hand trails along the bark as I relish the abrasiveness of its texture. Inhaling deeply, I savor the fresh and crisp mountain air as my muscles instinctively relax.

  After a short while, I open my eyes and take in the expanse of the vegetation surrounding me before making haste to catch up to the group.

  Thankfully, it’s not too difficult to walk on the uneven terrain, even with my ankle. It still aches, but it’s barely noticeable now. Mum’s homemade creams are clearly made of magic.

  After a long and refreshing trek through the forest, we come to a break in the trees where a sheer rock face greets us. Craning my neck upwards, I can barely see the top of the cliff.

  Excitement bubbles up in my chest in anticipation of the climb and I have to refrain from jumping around like a crazed five-year-old.

  This is going to be so much fun!

  I wonder how fast I can make it to the top. Maybe I could do it with no rope? That overhang looks interest-

  Nope. Not today, Mila. Think of your ankle, goddamn it. No funny business. Just enjoy the climb.

  Now that, I can do.

  Setting our bags down, we begin removing our climbing equipment and start gearing up.

  As a standard rule, we always pair up. Whether belaying or not, it’s always safer to partner up and check each other’s equipment. Even if you aren’t physically supporting one another in the climb.

  My parents taught that to me on my first climb and it’s something that will stick with me for the rest of my life.

  I partner with Dad as usual. Satisfied that everything’s in good condition, I don my equipment and triple check my harness.

  Ensuring it’s doubled back and secured tightly around both my legs and waist, I call out to the group. “Harness check.”

  Dad heads over to check my set up and I return the favor.

  Not long after and we all move on to sorting out our self-belay systems before double-checking everything again.

  You can never be too careful when it comes to safety of the climb. One wrong move could easily cost you your life.

  Once everyone is satisfied, we all sit down to swap our hiking boots for climbing shoes and pack our bags ready for the climb.

  Circling off my ankle one last time, I make sure it’s flexible enough to climb safely. It’s still slightly stiff but it shouldn’t cause any issues.

  Shaking it off, I lightly bounce on it a couple of times before setting off up the rock face with the others not too far behind.

  And so it begins!

  Climbing is one of my all-time favorite hobbies. I love the buzz of the adrenaline that floods your system when you find a particularly difficult handhold, or when your foot hold gives way, leaving you to fight for purchase.

  The best part is the overwhelming sense of exhilaration and liberation that fills you when you observe your surroundings at the peak of the climb.

  Peace. Freedom. Clarity.

  Watching the clouds pour over the snow-capped mountains that rise in the distance, I scan the beautiful Redwoods that are overshadowed by the rock faces.

  The mixtures of reds, browns and greens that cover the land is mesmerizing. Like an abstract painting on nature's canvas, the landscape utilizes the most vibrant colors the world has to offer.

  The view from up here is simply majestic.

  A secluded hot spring pool sitting just off to the south catches my attention, the crystal blue water sparkling like diamonds in the midday sun.

  Although it’s dazzling under the heat of the sun, I bet it would be even more beautiful under the stars and the blanket of night.

  I scan the area and map it in my mind, filing its location away for later. We’ll have to be extra careful traipsing out here in the dwindling light.

  We definitely do not want to be falling down any of the crevices nearby. Knowing our track record, it would be easy for Gem and I to be caught up in a disaster like that.

  Turning my attention back to the rock face, I forget all about time and life as I ascend, fully losing myself in the peace of the moment.

  As the first one to the top, I sprawl out in the grass and bask in the immense view as I wait for the others.

  Thankfully, everyone reaches the top without incident. Using a small outcropping of rocks, we settle down for a quick lunch before continuing on the new trekking trail.

  “How long is the trail, Dad?” I ask as I hop over a rotting log.

  “It’s thirteen kilometers in total. There’s a route about eight kilometers in that loops back here if we decide we want to take a shorter route though.”

  “Sweet! Reckon we’ll have time to do some fishing before sun down? I fancy having some nice fresh Blackrock fish with chili and lemon sauce.” Despite having just eaten, my stomach rumbles its appreciation.

  Blackrock fish is by far one of my most favorite meals when we go camping. Around here is one of the only places that you are allowed to actively fish to eat them.

  They are known for their bland flavor, so we didn’t hold out much hope when I inadvertently caught one a few years back.

  Low and behold, I completely shot that rumor out of the water -pun not intended- when I accidently mixed chili sauce and lemon juice together.

  Mum and I were having a heated discussion at the time and I thought it was ketchup and mayo.

  Obviously, I hadn’t been paying a lick of attention to what I was doing. I mean seriously, who mistakes chili and lemon for ketchup and mayo?! They look nothin
g alike!

  “Sure thing, Pumpkin. Anything my Little Angel wants,” Dad quips as he rests his arm across my shoulders and pulls me into his side.

  Kissing my head, he chuckles softly as I scrunch my nose up at the nickname. He knows I hate being called Angel. It’s far too feminine for my tastes.

  Silky blades of grass tickle my neck as I lay on the ground, nursing my food baby in utter bliss.

  I forgot just how amazing Blackrock fish tasted. We had ample time to go fishing after our trek, and naturally, we had a friendly competition to see who could catch the biggest fish.

  As always, Dad won with me coming in close second. Gem just sat there with a permanent scowl on her face when she didn’t manage to get a single bite.

  Mum sautéed the fish with some vegetables over the open fire whilst I prepared the sauce and Gem entertained us with stories about her childhood.

  For the first time in a while, Gem truly sounds at peace when recollecting time spent with her family.

  Prior to her teenage years, her parents had shown her endless affection. Gem was a beautiful little girl who was utterly adored, and from the photos she’s shown us, they looked like your typical happy family.

  Unfortunately, that all came to an abrupt end when she started becoming more adventurous with age. Sneaking off to parties, ditching lessons at school and staying out late. Doing things that any typical teenager does.

  You don’t need to be a genius to see the pain in her eyes as she talks about her memories with a detached fondness. How she wishes for her family to treat her like that once more, without the need for her to have to conform to their wills and desires.

  I know Gem and she wouldn’t change herself for anyone or anything. She is her own person. Someone who makes their own decisions and stands by them no matter what, and that’s exactly the way it should be.

  She thinks that her parents no longer love her, but I know that deep down, they do. They just fail to show it to her as they struggle to come to terms with her not conforming to their every whim.