My day opened with the rows of wood crossing the span of my eyes, but I knew such a mundane sight would be precious soon enough.

I sat up. My belly growled with the anticipation of food. I looked around and took it to my room. It was relatively bare. A small wood closet rested in one corner of the room.

Next to me was a small table with a stone chiseled lantern. Its flame slowly flickered into obscurity.

My eyes flung across the stained bark to the door. I should have gone out. My sister Annie had food ready for me, but if I had gone out there, I knew Joel would chastise me for not getting my breakfast.

I was of the age to be learning to hunt. My best friend Rowan was Joel’s younger brother, and they went hunting all the time. I would have gone with them, but I was not great at it.

That, and I struggled at not making mistakes. I either scared the prey away or I ended up tripping on something. The forest was not a great place for walking; I realized.

I scratched my head. I hoped Joel was not too hard on me. I was in the mood to eat, not hunt. Annie was okay with me growing up a bit more before I took part in such things.

She always said hunting was dangerous. I threw my legs off the bed and yawned. I had a lot of life ahead of me, so hunting was in my future for sure.

I went to spin the dial and quench the burning fabric. The mirrored image of my face had me frozen in an instant. I blinked at what I assumed was snow over my head. I pushed my hand into my hair and brushed it.

Wait, it looked worse now. I brushed it again, but harder. It was still white, wait; it was the whole of my hair. What was going on? I pulled my head back and forth, trying to make sense of this. That was when I noticed the purple eyes, so not only my hair, but my eye color changed.

This was crazy. How had this happened? This not supposed to have happened, anyway. I got up, holding part of my hair in maddening disbelief.

The tightening clutch around my throat had me huffing exhaust at my situation. It had my thoughts racing. I tried to make sense of this. It was not every day you woke up with different hair color and eyes.

He breathed in to calm himself. My chest burned with the keenness to know what was happening. Even now, I struggled with the idea of why I changed.

There had to be a reason. Was it something I ate, drank, was it a disease? I shivered at the idea it was that bad. I turned my eyes to the open creases in my palms.

My skin looked fine, and I had not looked sick. It was a bother just to be thinking about such things, but I had to wonder. I looked over the rest of my body and saw nothing unbecoming of who I was, a simple villager wearing a simple cotton shirt and trousers.

I was ordinary, at least I supposed to be. I was not anymore, and that bothered me. I turned off the flame fully and sighed.

Nobody would have focused on my lack of hunting skill that morning, for I had a more interesting talking point. My hair and eyes, I wondered what they were going to say as I opened the door to my room and came outside.

The chaotic aroma of food was as still as the wind on a scorching day. My fingers fidgeted at the words my sister would have said. The wildness of her thoughts would have been desperate in their plea.

I walked the short distance through the dining hall into the kitchen. I had seen a plate of food, but I ignored it. I thought it best to deal with the overall shock and got that out of the way.

Annie was in the kitchen arranging bowls of cut fruits and vegetables on the smooth wooden counter. A stout woman of dark brown hair and darker eyes. They were the colors I should have had.

Annie had a milky brown skin tone that burnt like copper under the right gaze of the sun. She was wearing a flowing dress of dark panther skin pelt. It was a gift from Joel and she treasured it, because mountain panthers were notoriously hard to catch.

I watched her for a bit, as she had a cloth in one hand, a bowl in the other.

Annie felt my presence, though. She turned and immediately got the fright of her life as she shuddered back. The bowl slipped out of her hand, hitting the countertop, making a loud, scouring screech. The cloth was almost pulled to her mouth, but it merely hung under her chin, clutched in infamy.

Her eyes measured me in the distortion of reality that stood before her. Nils was like this. I assumed those were the thoughts that ran through her mind.

I shifted on my feet, unsure how to act towards this blatant attention. “Ah, sis, it’s…” my tongue failed to convey my thoughts.

She stared on in dismay.

Joel’s voice interrupted the uncomfortable moment. “Annie?”

I shook my head and breathed in. I had to talk to her. These lasting glares of the eyes needed some reprieve. I said, “Y-you see it, yes, you see it too?”

Annie’s eyes with wide in shock as her lips opened and closed like a fish.

“Annie, what was that noise?” Joel sounded closer. I looked and tried to find where my voice came from, but failed.

Annie tilted her head and asked, “What I’m I seeing?”

I sighed then replied, “I would like to know that as well.”

“By the Gods!” Joel’s voice drew me to turn around and take in Joel’s shocked expression.

Nothing was said, their eyes wider than the open seas took in the blazing aspire of what this morning brought. A hair that was white had shined a reflected glare off the broken sheen of the sun that came through the window.

Joel was dressed in dark brown matte trousers. HIs lower leg and chest carved deep with pulsating mounds of muscles. “What happened to your hair?”

I sighed. “I wished I knew.” I looked back at Annie and shuddered back when her hand almost touched me.

Her fingers pulled back when I moved back. Annie’s eyes shifted. She stepped to the side and tried to take in the amazement offered before her.

Annie rose her hand towards me. I stood still, scared, but I held myself ridged to the floor. Her fingers pierced into the curls of my hair.

I stiffened as a tingle coursed through my body. It truly made my desire quivering, but I restrained it. Fighting it, my eyes rolled upward to see her fingers going up and down into the crown on my head.

“Nils?” Joel’s voice had an edge to it.

I was too afraid to turn to Joel. Annie pulled her hand out, leaving me witless and wanting for more of her gentle touch. Her eyes half closed as she tilted her head and regarded me from her height. “What caused this?” She asked.

I wanted to know the same thing, but I had a feeling such answers were further than I would have bargained for. “Nils.” A force smacked the top of Nil’s head. It was Joel’s hand. “What did you put in your hair, what did you wash it with?”

Annie shook her head and pointed at my face. “It is not only his hair. It’s also his eyes. They are purple.”

Joel replied, “Purple? What? How?”

Annie held one side of her face and shook her head. “Hmm, what misfortune has befallen you?”

I said, “I don’t think it’s a misfortune. I mean, I feel fine. I guess,” I looked away. “I just woke up like this.”

“This is a bad omen,” she said, worry leaking off her voice.

“Omen, for what?” Joel asked.

“This is clearly some sort of evil. It has to be,” Annie said.

“You are way too superstitious,” Joel answered.

“Guys, I am fine,” I said.

“No, you are not,” Annie said to me before turning on her husband. “My brother has white hair and purple eyes! How is that not a bad omen!”

Joel replied, “Calm my dear wife, look, let me bring him to the elders and we will know what it really is.”

Annie sighed and shook her arms in annoyance. She crossed her arms and said, “Fine. But I am coming.”

Joel asked, “Why? You said you need to clean up. I already finished hunting. I will do it.”

“I just want to come. Also, bring him to my grandmother. I trust her word more.”

Joel said, “Alright, alright.”

I said, “But I’m fine.”

They looked down at me like I was mad.

The pressure of his hand increased as I seemed to be turning around. “Come on boy, we have to find what is wrong with you.”

I started. “But-“

Annie said, “You are going Nils.”

I desired to tell them I was fine, but Annie was shaking in terror. I knew there was no way I was going to argue against my sister’s fear.

Annie was always protective over me. I chalked it up to the fact that my parents lost their lives to misfortune. A predator killed my father while my mother died in a monsoon flood.

Annie was not superstitious. In reality, she was just fearful that the family was in some terrible cycle of violence that was not explained by mere coincidence.

I hoped this change was nothing more than a passing phase. I followed Joel, who had slid on a hardened animal pelt jacket. Annie stood close, hands around my neck as if I needed support.

It was more likely she needed the support. Her fear resonated from strongest where she touched and her worries expanded out into my body with frightening efficiency and depth.

The outside wind blew around them with a gentle whistle. A merciless sun now gave them a glaring example of its power and cast a glow on the villagers.

The harsh reddish-brown skin of my fellow villagers flushed an ambient glow today. The enclosing forest held them prisoner, yet provided so much cover against the wild demands of the wind.

The village of Deltry was close to a river and had much on the way to fishing. Animals hunted were ones that frequented swamps. It was only the forests near the hills that gave them big game.

They cut through the center of the village. Children ran around in play. Their laughter made me smile even with the looming gloom that rested on my and my family’s shoulders.

“It’s a lovely day today,” Joel said.

“I guess,” I replied.

“Sure, your grandma will tell you are fine and then you can do whatever you want today,” Joel said. I heard my sister making a noise. It was probably her expressing displeasure at her husband.

I said, “Rowan is at home?”

Joel hummed then said, “Maybe… What, thinking of going hunting?” He lowered his head near mine, waiting for an answer.

I replied, “Don’t you think of anything other than hunting?”

He chuckled. “Nope.”

Well, at least he was passionate about it, it was probably why he was so good at hunting.

Women held buckets of water, fruits on their heads. Men carried around their bows and cutlasses. Everyone was active. The crunch of their bruised skin against the hot earth melted into the clamoring and distant voices of commerce and discussion.

It was a great day to have some fun. I would have gone and done that more than anything else. How things have changed. Here I was now, walking like it was my last rites, on my last legs with my last gaping breath.

Soon enough, we reached the place. A small hut, it was in bad repair. The wood was old and worn from the many showers that rained its displeasure onto it.

A cart with one leg missing rested on the front. Scattered plants grew to the side and front. The roof is a miss match of solid mud, stone and wood peering out from one side to the back. This was my home for the first six years of my life.

I never met my mother and father. Me and my grandma were never related, but she cared for us for much of our lives. She was given that title, because she was that close to us. We stepped in. The inside was crowded with stacks of stuff, from fabric to cartons, to vases and figurines slotted on a shelf covered with dust.

In the middle sat an elderly old woman with searching black eyes and a face shriveled by the wear of years gone. The smile that stretched those sags on her cheeks hit my anxiety and crushed it into nothing but a dismal memory.

Grandma always had that ability. She always made me feel better with just a look. Dressed in a long, thick frock that covered her body in waves, colorful and blending into each other from the top’s brown into the blinding red.

She looked beautiful, as if she was not surrounded by a king’s ransom of oddities, awkwardly placed and scattered about with such abandon.

“My oh my, Nils. It is good you see you have visited,” grandma said.

“Hi Grandma,” I said.

Annie stepped forward; her hands shivered with each step. My big sister said, “Grandma, he has changed. Something has happened.”

“Oh, come bring him here,” Grandma said. I swallowed. I looked at Joel’s serious and Annie’s worried face. The urge to run was high, but I stepped forward. I had to know, I guessed.

Still, would Grandma know what was happening with me? I had to hope. At least that had to be my prerogative as I neared my grandma.

Incense made my nose crinkle at the strong presence. Standing before her made me realize how majestic she seemed sitting there staring down at me.

Her eyes widened. The hand, covered in slabs of fat almost like dripping batter, swept up and gripped my forehead with such force I tried ripping my head away.

She held it firm and twisted my head. Her hand moved upward into the swell of my hair. A hum escaped the clasped lips of her meditation.

She narrowed her eyes at me and pulled her lips back in thought. “This…” Her fingers crawled through the broth of my hair, sending bristles flanking to the side and across the bridge of my nose. I shivered as if a cold entity swept through me. Her eyes gazed into mine. Her fingers froze momentarily.

My mouth arched to speak, but the words died at the back of my drying throat. Her hand shifted within a swift instant then parted my eyelids like the red sea. Breaking the eye frame I had guarded up open, for my eyes watered as I was not able to blink.

“Yes, this is quite a predicament.” Grandma mused to herself.

I heard Annie asking, “What is it?”

Grandma said, “A curse.” Her fingers flicked my head away like it was nothing. I shook my head and fluttered my eyes in confusion.

I looked up at my grandma, but no smile greeted him. No, this was not how my day was supposed to start.

I pulled back, for my body had a weakness running through with gingerly care.

“Curse, wait, curse, a curse, he had a curse? What do you mean curse?!” Annie asked.

“Annie calm down,” Joel said.

“What do you mean, calm down?” Annie asked in frustration.

“My little one. Be still. You see, our dear has a terrible curse. That curse will take his life in seven days.”

I blinked and tried to shake off the gathering feeling of anxiety swelled up in my chest. A beating heart. I knew it was drumming faster than the drums at the festivals, but I never felt it.

It was like it was dead to me. Nothing more than the still silence of the darkening sky with no warning winds to alarm the villagers of the storm.

“Seven days? No, that can’t be…” Annie’s voice morphed into a slithering, meek cry.

“Grandma, you cannot be serious? Right? It’s a joke? Yes?” Joel asked.

“It wished it was my boy. It will get worse. With each passing day, roots will grow under his skin, the curse will consume his body. And yes, there is no cure. The only solace is that he has seven days,” Grandma said.

I shook my head and inhaled. My breath stalled. A choking gasp later I turned away from my grandma, I heard my name.

A hand touched my shoulder. I felt that, but it was like a needle. I felt the pain and instantly shifted away from the hand. Feet stomped forward as the agony set in.

I rushed through the door and into the scorching glare of the sun. The calling of my name had not stopped me. Tears flicked off the span of my eyebrows.

No, this was not how my day was supposed to have started. I should have come out, had breakfast, by chastised by Joel for being weak and play with my friends.

No, no, was not supposed to have happened. I felt a pain in my foot, before my hands on reflex fell forward and planted against the ground in an effort to stop myself.

Gasping, I looked up and realized I had fallen over the edge of a cart. My hands plastered in mud. I looked around and the murmurs began. Their weary eyes and moving lips hunted me. I pulled myself up.

“Child?” someone called after me. I shook my head and held it down as I ran to my home. The only comfort I probably had left was the thing that started my spiral into madness.

I heaved out heavy breath, walking haphazardly to my room with my pained legs. The bones creaked at my advance. My heart begged for rest. I groaned inwardly, for I wished that would never be permanent.

But wishes were for fools. I should have known better than that, right?

I closed the door and pushed the closet against it. My heart hated me, for my throat burned with the anger my body felt.

 I sat on my bed and tried to make sense of this. I was going to die in seven days. My eyes closed when I grabbed the bridge of my nose. This should not have been happening, yet it was.

The door shifted. The closet barely budged as it should have. There was knocking. I said nothing.

“Nils! Please open the door!” Annie shouted.

I pulled my knees under my chin and sat there drowning out the wavering distraught of my thoughts. My future was dead, like me. It gone like the wind that should have blown.