My name is Benjamin and I’m the youngest of twelve brothers.
I used to be a timid boy, shy and uneasy. My brothers used to tease me relentlessly. I was never good for much. I couldn’t hunt, couldn’t fish, couldn’t build. My mother coddled me at her teat longer than any boy should be. It was a matter of life or death actually, a means of survival that I broke out of my shell.
It’s incredible what you can accomplish knowing you’re facing certain death. The newfound respect you have for life, knowing you could be killed at any moment. My brother’s and I should be dead. There’s twelve coffins in an undisclosed room at our estate with our names on them, fitted to our exact measurement’s, with twelve pillows propped up inside to rest our extinguished heads. How could I know this you ask?
Well I, being the apple of my mothers eye, and her youngest, she could not bear to see me suffer. She shared with me her horrific secret, one she was forced to keep against her will. That at the end of her pregnancy, if she were to birth a girl, that all of us would be murdered. You can imagine my shock & dismay when I heard this news. But knowing our father, it all made perfect sense.
He was a ruthless king, cold-hearted and cunning. He was known throughout the Kingdom as Thrushbeard. But his obsession with having a daughter made him weak and vulnerable. For there is nothing a king desires more than that of which is denied to him. As powerful of a man as he was, he lost all control when it came to women. They could bend him and shape him to their will, mold him like a clay-maker does a pot. And that’s what my mother did. Her vicious attacks on his manhood cut him like a knights steel sword, until eventually he became delusional and erratic. He convinced himself he must kill his own sons, so every last bit of our inheritance can be passed on to his unborn daughter. The terrifying fact was, my father was not a man to make threats he didn’t intend to carry out.
With the blessing of our mother, my brothers and I decided best to relocate to the forrest to buy time. Our mother promised to communicate to us through inconspicuous means, raising a white flag if the baby was a boy, and a blood red flag if it’s a girl. This meant one of us was to keep constant watch, high up in the canopy’s of the forrest, so that we may know when it was safe to come home, if ever. It never was. We all took turns high up in the trees, but on my turn, I saw the red flag waving and knew our fate had officially been sealed.
I’d felt weak and helpless, like I was a burden to my brothers, like an anchor dragging a sailing ship. I wanted to prove myself valuable, because the forrest had it’s own law’s, and the weak fell by the wayside. My brothers were angry, and misogyny began rooting itself deep in their hearts, thick as an oak tree. They vowed to kill any female they came in contact with, to violate and steal any innocence that she may possess, as a penance to be paid for the misfortunes that had befallen us in the name of gender.
I was ordered to stay-put at the camp until my brother’s returned from their dangerous liaisons, but I grew restless and began to wander. Before long I had wandered myself too far and got lost. I didn’t know where I was, I could hardly see. The only sounds I could make out were the howls of hungry wolves and other deadly creatures on the hunt for prey. I began to weep uncontrollably. I was scared and I misssed my mother.
At that moment a shivering crept over me. A sharp cold penetrated my bones. I could hear a sweet voice whispering, soothing & feminine, inviting me into her caress. Before I knew it I was in the arms of an old witch, curled up in a fetal position sucking my thumb, as if I was a baby at it’s mothers teat. “There there,” she said. “Don’t cry. It’s ok. Mommy’s here." The details following get blurry, as if I suffered a blackout. The next thing I remember is waking up in a strange bed in a bewitched hut.
Stranger still was the living arangement: tweleve beds, neatly positioned as if somehow they had been awaiting our arrival. The kitchen was quite large, with a wood stove and a fireplace, along with every utencil one would need to prepare a meal for a dozen men.
“Do you like it?” The witch asked. “It’s yours.” I stuttered and stammored. I didn’t know what to say. It felt too good to be true, and surely it was, but my brothers and I were desperate. “You may take up residence here, you and your siblings.” The witch said. “May you find safety and refuge here from the corroption of your kingdom, and may the death that your father seeks to force upon you befall on him, and thine enemy’s. May happiness and prosperity fill your spirit as well as your pocket’s, and you live a long and fruitfull life from now till ever after.” The witch then proceeded to plant tweleve magic flowers. “Let these flowers represent each of thy bretheren. Care for them and water them. If Anything was to happen to these flowers, a curse will befall upon you that will be very difficult to break, one I myself cannot reverse. I must go now, I will check back in on you when the time is right.” She said.
That night my brothers all found thier way back to the hut, carrying the meat and rescources they had gathered throughout the day, marveling in awe at the dwelling I had aquired for us while they were away. I cleaned and prepared the meat, set the table with fine utensils, and prepared us all a feast none of us had seen since our day’s back home. From that moment on, I was put in charge of all domestic duties. My brothers were proud of me, and I was proud of myself too. But despite our fortunate luck, my brothers brooded nonetheless. They grew restless and violent. They had a thirst for blood that could only be satisfied by the killing of women, for it was they who polluted the mind of our father, convinced him to abandon his sons in order to spoil them rotten and do thier bidding. “The bitches must pay, all of them.” They chanted. This terrified me because I knew what they were capable of.
Not much long after, on one of my walks, I came across a young girl picking flowers and chasing after lightning bugs with a net and a jar. She sang a song filled with joy and laughter. Her name was Melody, she said. She herself was the youngest of twelve sisters, she told me, a coincidence and a cliche if you ask me. This could only happen in a fairy tale.
But she was so beautiful, I was in love within an instant. Another cliche, but I didn’t care. I made a vow right then and there that I would protect her and her sisters from the savagery that aflicted my brothers. “Stay away from the forrest.” I told her. “It’s too dangerous, I shall come for you when it’s safe.”
