Chapter I

This story, as of yet, has no name. If anyone would like to suggest a name, comment please.

Chapter I
“No!” shouted Maria, running from her mother Linnea, who stood by their rickety wooden kitchen table, holding Maria’s baby brother in one arm and a tattered suitcase in the other. An ancient wicker basket lay at her feet. A girl of six, Maria’s sister, peeked out from behind Linnea’s skirts.
“Maria, be reasonable, you know this is necessary.” Linnea had a desperate look on her face.
“No! I’m not coming! I’ve gone so many different places with you, running from the thrice-cursed King and his thrice-cursed soldiers! I’m not running away, not one more time! Why did Father leave us so poor and desolate? ”
Upset by the noise, Maria’s baby brother Mathieu began to cry. Linnea held him closer to her and glared reproachfully at Maria. “Maria, your father had duties, duties that as a noble he is forced to comply with. As soon as he returns from service in the King’s army-”
“The same King’s army that’s hunting us right now, you know.”
“Maria, I know, but as soon as he returns we will be rich and flee no more, God willing.”
“You’re wasting your time.” Maria’s face was stony.
“Doing what?”
“Praying like that. If there is a God, He doesn’t care about us.”
“Maria!” scolded her mother, shocked.
“It’s true! Look at us. Just look at us. No one cares about us. It’s a wonder that we’re even alive.” Maria turned from her mother, hiding her tears.
“Oh, darling, if you won’t believe in God, at least believe in yourself.” Comforted Linnea, hugging Maria.
“I try, mother, I really do, but…But sometimes, it’s just too hard.”
Neither of the women knew what to say, so in the silence they stood there, Linnea softly stroking Maria’s long red hair.