The Earth That Birthed You
It is theorized that the ages between thirteen and fifteen are when we are most impressionable– to art, culture, music, politics, religion, etc. At these ages, we are unaware of the effects our choices will have on our future selves, and although we are told that we are not our past, it will feel like those few years will always have a hold on us and who we are.
It was during these years that my friends and I figured out what we liked and what we didn’t, but that was the extent of what we were sure of. Everything else was floating in the air, waiting for us to reach up and grab it. We knew nothing of the world that was waiting for us, but at least we knew ourselves. At least we knew each other.
Lily and Pandora, especially, knew each other. Over the years, it was apparent that their souls had connected. There was a string bounding the two together even when they were apart. It wasn’t like the friendship Mary and Lily had– which was experienced and strong. Instead, their friendship was tender. It was gentle and it was slow. Lily had once told me that she never felt softer than when she was with Pandora. For a fast, fiery, clumsy girl, Lily was at complete peace when she was connecting with the other girl. In times of strong emotions that seemed to take over Lily, all Pandora had to do was gently lay a hand on her arm, and Lily would immediately slow down, sinking into the touch.
Pandora, on the other hand, was graceful. She moved swiftly and her limbs grew elegantly. Her long hair, which used to contain ringlets, now only curled at the very ends and around her face. She looked like a princess and acted like one with her curiosity and gentle ways. However, whenever Lily was around, Pandora became overly focused and attentive. She could listen to Lily for hours, and her attention never faltered. When Lily was in view, Lily was the only thing that existed, and everything else was blurred out of focus. Nothing ever stole Pandora’s curiosity away from Lily Evans.
They had a friendship that I both envied and adored, and perhaps sometimes it was even more than just friendship. Holding hands and delicate kisses on each other’s cheeks became customary between these two. They were like rain and the flowers it grew.
Alice and Narcissa were beginning to develop a similar relationship, the only difference being that they were more scared of it. I recall noticing secret glances and quick touches of fingers or thighs. After a while, I concluded these must not be coincidental. When I asked Mary if she’d noticed, she stated the two girls have been like this for months– both equally infatuated with the other, but afraid to see it. They jumped at accidental touches and never observed each other at the same time. It was almost as if they were afraid to see themselves in the reflection of the other girl’s eyes.
Thirteen years old and afraid of being seen.
***
Despite these blooming gardens, anger also rose inside of us. We never felt good enough, nor did we think it was fair. We rarely understood the rules and why we had a different dress code than the boys. We began to take out our anger on our parents because they didn’t understand. I suppose we always forget that we are only a small portion of our parents’ lives, while they are our entire world. Or maybe that just angered us more.
The truth is, where my anger came from isn’t easy to describe. I could blame it on hormones, my parents’ nightly arguments, or the growing difficulty of school and responsibility, but neither of those would cover it fully. I think the most honest thing is to say that I was angry at the world, and I think the other girls were as well. In fact, I know they were.
One day after school, while a few of us were walking to the bus, thirteen-year-old Marlene had planted her feet and refused to continue on.
“I need to change something,” Marlene said in an inspired voice as if she was creeping up on a magnificent plan.
Dorcas, Narcissa, and I stared at her while Lily smiled. It appeared as if Lily understood exactly what Marlene meant. There was something missing, they both knew it, and thus sprouted the beginning of our adventures.
Lily had dragged Marlene (and, by extension, Dorcas, Narcissa, and I) to a creek near her house.
“I’ve been waiting for this,” Lily mumbled to herself multiple times on the way there. I remember imagining we were on our way somewhere away from the rest of the world and picturing Lily being a part of a secret society that she was desperately waiting to introduce us to, we just had to give the word.
The body of water was hidden within the trees, and if you walked far enough, the creek fell into a river. Up ahead, there was something hanging from one of the branches. It took me a while before I realized it was a rope, but not much longer to realize what it was doing there.
Suddenly, Lily sprinted a few feet ahead of us, grabbing onto the rope and swinging herself into the water. It wasn’t long before Marlene followed behind her, performing the same motion. Both girls were in the river fully clothed. Their smiles exceeded their entire faces, and we couldn’t help but laugh in shock.
We spent about an hour there, splashing and appreciating the nature that surrounded us. It was certainly refreshing and allowed our young minds to forget about the anger our lungs were full of.
On the way home, Narcissa spoke, “I think I need something to change too.”
“Then do it,” Dorcas responded.
That night, we invited the other girls to sleep over at Marlene’s house. Marlene made an announcement that she and Narcissa had made the decision to change what they think needed changing. Soon, we became aware of the bleach dye that was sitting on the counter. We sang karaoke and danced as Marlene and Narcissa changed their hair together. Marlene bleached her entire head blonde– although at first, it looked more yellow than anything– and Narcissa dyed the underlayer of her hair white. Both were excited over their new hair and the fact that it added a little more joy to their day and depleted it of anger, at least for the moment.
Only those experiencing it really understand the effects changing one’s appearance can have on their mental health and perception. I’m glad Narcissa and Marlene did that, despite the view that it may have been reckless. So what if it was? So what if they changed their appearance on a whim? They changed something, and therefore, created someone new without throwing away the rest. No one had the authority to tell them they could not fight anger with creation.
On this night of pièce de résistance, we also learned something new about Mary, and it was that she had the voice of an angel. The rest of us sang with a dance of humor and often held the karaoke microphone too close, but when it was Mary’s turn, the room went silent. It was at that moment that I realized this was her thing. I had never heard Mary sing before, and yet, I was completely and wholeheartedly convinced we had found her calling. This is who Mary was: a warm, strong, and caring shade of orange with a voice to match. Her tone was clear and sharp, and each note rang with a boom. There was something so mesmerizing about the harmony Mary could bring with just her voice.
When she was finished, we all clapped with our jaws on the floor. Her humility shone through then, her full cheeks blushing and heating up. We knew she loved the attention though, Mary always loved the spotlight, so we kept going, exaggerating into a standing ovation. Mary then bowed and curtsied, encouraging our display of tease.
I think she found a little bit of herself that night. It was a self-discovering day for all of us.
***
Summer came and went. Surprisingly, no one’s family had anything planned, so we spent every waking moment reliant on Lily and Marlene’s grand adventures. A few of us turned fourteen that Summer.
Lily and Marlene took us to the creek hidden in the trees almost every day, and although we already knew where it was, the two girls decided we now had to wear blindfolds on the way there. There we were, young girls being led blindly by a redhead and a blonde, through the trees and to the water.
The tree that held the rope was by far the largest one there. We carved our names into it one day so that we all might stay here forever.
Dorcas had brought a pocket knife to do so.
“Woah,” Narcissa jumped when Dorcas pulled it out casually. “Wha– Why?”
“So we can carve our names, of course. Isn’t that what you all wanted to do?”
Narcissa stared blankly. “Well, yeah, but you didn’t know that when you left your house. So why did you bring a pocket knife?”
Dorcas, then, let a sly smirk slowly creep up on her face, playing with Narcissa’s fear. “You can never be too careful.”
I could practically see Narcissa’s soul leave her body then, but there was also a hint of something else on her face. Perhaps it was excitement.
We took turns carving our first names into the tree with Dorcas’ knife. It was thrilling. Our anger was replaced with hope that we would forever be here, no matter where life and its blood-red hands pulled us.
But that hope didn’t last long.
Every time we left the river, we were met with the real world again. Lily’s sister hated her, and although Lily never said it, we knew she was hurting. Narcissa’s mother was as quietly cruel as always. The only time Narcissa felt free was when she was with us. It was sweet, but also rather sad. Marlene was angry with the world and its leaders as well as those around us who didn’t seem to care what was happening. Pandora felt similarly, but more curious. She could never grasp what anyone else meant, nor why they meant it. She was always searching for answers, and, truthfully, it looked extremely tiring. There were days when she wouldn’t speak a word because she was too lost in her own head. Alice, on the other hand, was still struggling with her own self-image. We all were, but hers was different. She and Dorcas took to crafts in order to express themselves. They’d spend hours teaching each other how to make jewelry or how to knit their favorite beanie. Dorcas appreciated this because she, too, was in need of freedom of expression. Her parents were beginning to place harder expectations on her, and when school came around again, most of her days were full of schedules. Rarely did she ever get free time to breathe. Mary, well, she was our beacon of hope. Fourteen was one of her best years, despite her ability to be a magnet for drama– she always had some hot gossip to tell us about. Unfortunately, that didn’t last long.
***
Mary’s father got in a car accident the day after her fifteenth birthday. She was older than all of us, the rest of us were still fourteen, but that day, she looked so much younger.
On a seemingly normal day in September, Mary got called into the front office. No one had thought anything of it, that is until she didn’t return. Her birthday party was supposed to be on Saturday. It was canceled.
Her father, the one person in Mary’s family that made her feel understood, had his life thrown on the line. A drunk driver had hit him, causing his car to spin and crash into a pole. None of us knew if he would live. We all comforted her at the hospital that night as she cried into Lily’s arms.
After only a few months, he had made a full recovery. Mary, however, never did fully recover. Fear of suffering and death– not just for herself, but for others as well– created an unsettling echo of screams in her mind. Fifteen was when anger seared into her veins. It was excruciating to watch, and, I’m sure, even worse to feel. None of our problems seemed to matter as much after that, and yet, Mary was always there to help anyway.
In fact, she and Bellatrix became oddly close during our tenth year of school. Bella would often hang out with us when we were with Narcissa, and no one quite expected it, but she and Mary got along really well.
No one could really tell how Narcissa felt about it, seeing as though she rarely ever spoke her thoughts. However, there was something in the air that signaled maybe Bella’s newfound interest in Cissy’s friends would bring the two sisters closer again.
Oh, and yeah, we began to call Narcissa “Cissy” after one winter day when she was feeling particularly pessimistic. It was cute.
“No,” Narcissa had stated in a very prickly manner after Marlene asked her for some very random favor.
“You’re always so grumpy, you know,” Marlene teased.
Narcissa gasped with little effort. “I had no idea.” Her eyes widened at Marlene, and just as quickly, the shocked look fell from her face. She basically deadpanned.
Laughter erupted throughout the group.
“And sassy too!” Marlene said through gasps of laughter. “Oh, my god. Narsassy.”
Pandora looked confused. “Why would we call her Narcissy?” she asked.
The group was quiet for a moment, exchanging looks before we all began cracking up again. Narcissy. It was a ridiculous name, and yet, it stuck. We began to call Narcissa that– just to tease Pandora– but eventually, it faded into Cissy.
***
That next Summer, when we were all finally fifteen or at least close to it, was probably the last Summer that we spent all together.
Alice’s mother’s side of the family was Italian, and they had planned a family trip to rural Northern Italy– where some of her extended family remained. Alice’s mother, already in charge of her handful of children, suggested that Alice bring a few friends, for she only had brothers and boy cousins, and her mother did not want her to have a bad time. Alice, who admittedly did not mind hanging out with boys, took this offer easily. She invited the other seven of us to join them. Of course, I’m sure Mrs. Prewett did not expect Alice to invite half a dozen girls, and yet, she accepted us kindly anyway.
To this day, I still see it as a miracle that we were all able to travel to Italy for the Summer. When we arrived, the house was huge and covered in beautiful green vines that ran up the sides of the house. That’s when we realized that Alice was… well, rich. Really rich. Like Narcissa Black kind of rich. The house had six bedrooms, plus two masters, so technically, it was a mansion. We were staying in a mansion in Italy with a pool out back and a gorgeous garden of vegetables, fruit, and flowers. Marlene, Lily, and Mary shared a room, while Narcissa, Pandora, and I shared one. Alice had her own room, as did Dorcas. Alice’s brothers and cousins shared the fifth and sixth rooms, while the parents took the masters.
We went to the beach every day and stopped by the ice cream shop every night before taking cold showers in our bathing suits. Our hair was always salty, and our feet were always in sand or grass. Pandora had gotten her wish; we all were barefoot for most of the holiday. Oddly enough, we began to understand the likelihood of it. Walking without shoes in rural Northern Italy made us feel more connected to the ground we walked upon. The Earth was our friend that Summer.
We were fifteen and kissing the Earth that birthed us. We nourished the anger it provided and let the salt water carry it away, and no matter how warm it got during those months, we always stayed close to each other.