Prompt: A new life | Word count: 1000 | Genre: Fantasy
I was born an orphan. A fact my parents emphatically denied. I knew it was so, as I didn’t belong with my family and I must have come from somewhere.
I would lie in bed at night, when I was young and imagine my real father. With his long, black curls in his circus outfit, with one golden earring, doing his matador dance routine with the bulls. He was the gypsy king. Now his younger brother had grown up and challenged him. A fight started and the music from the circus had beat in time to the swishing blades. My mother at that time was in their caravan travailing over the birth of her coming child. She heard the shouts outside but could do nothing as I was coming and her screams matched those outside. Sadly, my father still had his tap shoes on and although the stronger of the brothers, his studs slipped in the sand and as he fell – his brother took the chance and slit his throat. Just as his death screams stopped, I arrived and replaced them with cries of my own. My mother was in danger and had to flee.