Chapter 1:

Spring is the most beautiful time of the year, in Gretels opinion. The
weather is perfect: not too achingly hot like summer and not too frigidly cold
like winter. Its just right, she thought, feeling like a certain golden haired
maiden. Spring is when the snow melts and makes room for blooming flowers
to burst out of the water-sodden earthwhen the hibernating creatures
awake from their slumber and climb about the newly greening treeswhen
families leave their homes and gaze around them as if seeing light for the
first time in years. Gretel couldnt help but be amazed at the immense
beauty of spring and the wonders that come from its womb.
Clutching her self-woven basket, overflowing with fresh bread, Gretel
leaned down to pick a blossoming dandelion. She closed her eyes slowly with
a purpose, and made a wish. I wish I was a bird, she thought, and opened her
eyes just before blowing the flowers little white cloud with as much force as
she could muster. She watched as the dandelion seeds caught the wind until
she could no longer spot their slim figures. All that was left was the stem, a
sad green thing, really. Plucked from the ground and without the flower top, it
didnt really have a purpose or a point. It didnt belong anywhere. Gretel
sympathized with the solitary stem and sighed. She understood how it felt to
be so alone. It was how she felt when her twin brother left to join the kings
army. Now it was only she and her father, but he was usually working:
woodcutter by day, inventor by night. Either way, always busy. Many years
ago he began having strange ideas for inventions (he believed them to be
works of genius so Gretel didnt argue, in fear that she would sadden him by
telling the truth of her opinions) so whenever he gets the chance, he tumbles
down into his workshop in the basement of their small but comfortable cabin,
which lies in the middle of the woods. It is around an hour walk to the
nearest town, which is where Gretel is returning from currently. Sighing once
more, she placed the dandelion stem into her basket, feeling much too
attached to it by that point to let it go, and continued home.
Father, Gretel called as she creaked opened the wooden door and
stepped inside their cabin. Im home.
An echo rang up from below her feet, Oh! Gretel, hello darling! Ill be up
in a moment! Just finishing up my latest project! She sighed, knowing by a
moment he meant at least half an hour, and by finishing he meant
working endlessly for at least another month. And even then, he rarely ever
finished anything. His inventions were never perfect in his eyes. Either they
didnt work, or they had no purpose. One of the only machines he truly

completed that was of any use was a portable dial that tells time. You simply
set it to the correct hour, which you know because at 8 oclock every
morning a bell can be heard in the distance signaling that it is time to
awaken and begin the day, and at 8 oclock every night that same bell
chimes to indicate that you should be indoors. It is dangerous to be in the
woods at night, especially if you are alone. Now, this dial has an arrow that
begins in the center and extends out to the edge of the circle. It moves as
the time goes by. There are 24 hours in a day, but this machine, which
Gretels father calls a Time Keeper, has only 12 hours labeled, and goes
around twice per day. At the top is the number 12, then moving toward the
right, clockwise, are 1, 2, 3, and so on, until to the left of the 12 is the
number 11. The arrow moves clockwise and points to the many numbers as
the hours go by. It really is very clever, although it wasnt completely
original. It is said that there is a machine like this, but very large, in the
castle of the royal family. What Gretel wouldnt give to see that
nonetheless, she was happy with her little Time Keeper, about the size of a
small stone, the kind she used to skip across a nearby river with her brother
when they were kids. Her father had given it to her about a year ago, after
working on it for nearly half a decade. He had placed it on a chain so that
she could wear it around her neck. She hadnt taken it off since. He hadnt
been able to make a second one since, either. It was very special to her.
Gretel, feeling the constant, comforting ticking that the Time Keeper
made against her chest, smiled. She would often try to breathe in rhythm
with itin tick out tick in tick out tick. Of course it tended to make her
hyperventilate. According to her father, that happened when you thought
about your breathing.
Taking a deep breath to stop her heart from racing, she placed the
basket of bread on the table in the corner of the kitchen, the first room you
enter when going into the cabin, and then moved to stir a pot on their little
homemade stove. Really it was just a fire in a metal box. Another of her
fathers creations, but this one he was directly attempting to copy what he
saw in the shops in town. His had a door on the front that you could open to
put firewood inside and then light it. The heat from the fire rose up and, if it
worked the right way, would heat up whatever was put on top of the box.
Metal conducts heat, apparently. Whatever that means. Either way, when
you placed a pot of soup, for example, on the top, it would heat up and cook
enough to eat. When cooking meat it was better to put it directly on the
stove. Otherwise it wouldnt cook all the way through.
Gretel got down on her knees and opened the hot metal door with the
rag her father had continuously instructed her to use, less she wanted to be

burned, and poked at the burning wood with a stick. The flames grew
immediately, as they always did, and so she closed the door and extended
her skinny legs until she was standing again. She peered over the pot as it
began to bubble, steam rising up and out. Stew again, she thought to herself
with an inward sigh. She didnt mind, not completely, but the taste of old
reheated vegetables and chicken scraps still lay in her mouth after weeks of
eating the same thing.
Gretel, dear, she heard her father shout from the open door in the
ground that led to the basement. Go ahead and eat without me. Im having
more trouble than I initially presumed. A true shock.
Alright, father. And so Gretel did just that, knowing that by the time
he ascended those stairs, the stew would be chilled to the chicken bones
that lay inside. She sat down at the rickety table and placed her bowl of stew
in front her. She stirred mindlessly as she stared off at nothing in particular.
Soon, however, her eyes locked with the letter from the king tacked to the
wall of the cabin. Gretel squeezed her eyes shut tightly, then, missing her
twin more than ever. She remembered getting that letterit was almost two
years ago, now. Hansel had felt so guilty and had requested to join the Kings
Men. He felt he needed to redeem himself, though his family was never
outwardly angry.
You see, when they were younger, Gretel and Hansel stumbled across a
sizeable treasure and brought it home to their father. He was ecstatic, of
course, for the measly pay of a woodcutter had not easily supported his
family, and their step-mother had died while they were away. Not that that
was a bad thing by any means. She was a horrid woman who hated the
children. That is a tale for another time, of course.
The father took the children into town that very day and bought boxes
and boxes of food: fresh fruits like strawberries and blueberries that Gretel
and Hansel had never before tasted, expensive meat from cows and pigs and
sheep, ice-cold milk, freshly baked bread (not the cold, stale kind they
usually received for a lower price), and then finally sweetschocolates and
candies beyond the twins wildest dreamsand nightmaresfor to their
fathers surprise, they would not touch any of the delicious sweets that had
been so rare to them before. He only shrugged his shoulders, though, and
kept them for himself. After their grocery shopping, they went and purchased
an ice box to keep all of their new delicacies nice and fresh. Next they all
bought three new outfits each, all crafted with beautiful fabrics of vibrant
colors. Gretel had never before seen such lovely clothes, and could not wait
to try them on the moment she got home. Beginning to feel weighed down

by their new belongings, their father decided to buy a large wagon. It would
replace the old, small one he had built for his job that had been falling apart.
They stowed their things inside the wagon and ran on to the next shop, their
father on their heels, the wagon trailing behind him. After a while longer of
their impulse buying, Gretel heard a strange noise from a distance away and
ran to see where it had come from. Soon enough she was face-to-face with a
tiny little animal covered in fur, meowing softly. This is a cat, the shop
keeper had explained to her curious face, holding up the creature. But right
now it is still young, so you should call it a kitten. Gretel was so in awe that
her father couldnt say no, and soon enough they were the proud owners of a
little, black kitten. Gretel held it in her arms like it was the most fragile thing
in the world, while still keeping it close in fear that it would leap out of her
grasp and be gone forever. She named her Kitten, for at the time she had
been too excited to understand that the shopkeeper had meant that it was a
kitten, not that it should be called Kitten. They brought her and a
complimentary toy (a ball of twine) home with all of their other newly bought
items. By that time twilight had come and they had to rush to beat the
impending darkness. The door slammed behind their deeply breathing
bodies just as the night bell struck 8 oclock. They laughed, then, and smiled
joyously as they all simultaneously thought about the new lives ahead of
them.
As you can tell, that isnt anything to be guilty about. They still had
plenty of money. The treasures they had were worth much more than normal
money, and they had just begun to scratch the surface of their wealth. That
night they had thought that they would never have to worry about money
againtheir father could retire whenever he wanted to and could finally
follow his dream of inventing, which he did. He cleaned out the basement
and made it into his private workspace. While now he used scraps and
leftover pieces of machinery, in the beginning of his inventing he was able to
buy nice, new parts for his machines. It was not he, though, who wasted all
of their money. It was Hansel. The twins had been about 10 years old when
they found the treasure, and after living happily and lavishly for five years,
Hansel got bored. Their father had purchased school books so that they
could learn and be educated, but Hansel wanted nothing to do with it. He
dealt with the daily school sessions his father gave them for those five years,
but eventually, enough was enough. He stopped all together and began to
act differentlyless like the kind, sweet young boy he had always been and
more like a rebellious teenager. He would go out exploring the woods and
prancing around town during the day and not come back until the wee hours
of the morning. It wasnt until almost a year later (too late at that point) that
his father realized what Hansel had been up to for so long. And it took losing
practically all of their money to do so.

Hansel had been gambling. He had gone into town and watched groups
of men for many weeks before he had learned enough to try for himself. He
starting betting with small amounts of money and, doing well with that,
slowly grew until he was gambling with huge stakes. He was doing fairly well
at first, and was extremely excited and of course overly confident. His
overconfidence is what ultimately brought his family back into poverty. He
lost everything in one single game, and was absolutely devastated. That
night he didnt go home, but climbed up a tree near their cabin and cried his
eyes out until he was no longer conscious. For a boy of 15, he had done
some irreparable damage. He considered running away, too frightened at the
possibility of his fathers anger, but decided against it in the end. He truly
didnt think that he would ever be forgiven, but he couldnt just run away
from his mistakes, he had to face them. His father did forgive him, in the
long run, and so did Gretel. She didnt blame him, and understood how
horrible he must have felt. He didnt forgive himself, though, and that is what
led him to request for admittance into the kings army. He would earn money
by serving and would send the majority of it back to Gretel and their father.
With that money, the money made from chopping wood, and the little
remainder of their treasure, the father and daughter pair would survive. They
also sold the more extravagant things that they had bought before, like the
ice box and the fancy clothes that they had long-outgrown, as well as the
more expensive attire that they had purchased since then. They replaced
these with simpler clothing. Gretel got one-noted dresses of common colors
like green and blue and brown. She still had them to this day, almost 730
days later, although they were much rattier and the colors had long ago
faded to mere shadows of their past. And while her size stayed small and
thin after years of meager eating, she did grow in height, so the dresses
which used to reach the floor now came to just above her ankles. She wasnt
tall, but at 5 4 she wasnt exactly short either. At least she liked to think of
it that way. Hansel, who had always been rather tall and lanky, used to look
down at her and laugh, calling her by the nickname of Blueberry. Not only
had they become his favorite food after his first taste of them so long ago,
but they were also tiny, and so he liked to taunt her with the name. Gretel
herself liked to think that it fit because of her dark, endlessly blue eyes, so
she didnt complain. Secretly, she even sort of liked it, and had missed
hearing it for the past two years.
Gretel began to glare again at the letter that had separated her family.
It had come on a Sunday morningtheir father had been out cutting wood,
and Gretel and Hansel had been inside playing with Kitten, one of the only
things left from their first shopping excursion. Ironically not a kitten anymore,
but a full grown cat, she was much heavier than she used to be. Just as
playful, though. She loved the twins more than anything in the world, and

when the knock of a soldier came from outside, a horse whinnying nearby,
she was silent for the first time that morning, as if she knew what was going
to happen. Hansel answered the door with uncertainty and was greeted by a
memorized speech of welcome into the Kings Men. It isnt certain that you
are going to be let into the army, so Gretel had been crossing her fingers for
the many months it had taken to hear word back on Hansels results. Holding
back tears (she would not cry in front of a soldier), she watched as the
uniformed man held out an elaborate rolled up letter in his hands. It said,
essentially, congratulations, as well as when, where, and how he was to
report for training.
Gretels heart had sunk in her chest. She had had but one more month
to spend with her twin before a royal carriage came to take him out of her
life. They were silent for the better part of those few weeks. Gretel still held
in her tears, for she didnt want to cry in front of her brother. She didnt want
him to know that his leaving hurt her so much more than the gambling had.
Finally, the day before his departure, Gretel couldnt hold back anymore. She
and Hansel had been cooking breakfast for the last time, and at that
realization, she ran out of the cabin and into the woods. She hadnt stopped
until she hit the river, the water cold between her toes. Only then did she let
herself cry. She had fallen to her knees, not caring that she was soaked to
the bone. As she cried her eyes out, her tears began to mix with the river
water and she had become unsure which she was covered in. Both, it had
seemed. Eventually Gretel heard the crackling of leaves nearby and soon
after saw her brother come out of the woods. He had gone to her, then, sat
down in the gently lapping water, and put his arms around her. They didnt
speak. They didnt need to. They had stayed there like that for hours, their
tears intertwining like their bodies. Happy birthday, Gretel, he had said
after so much silence. Looking up into his face, Gretel had laughed, and then
cried some more, but this time they were part happy tears. She had
forgotten. They were 16. Happy birthday, Hansel, she had replied back.
Finally it had begun to darken and they had to leave. On their way back,
hand in hand, both of their stomachs had grumbled in protest at having
skipped two meals. They laughed again, and finally Gretel was able to accept
that he would be leaving. The following day, when an extravagant carriage
drawn by two snow white horses pulled up in front of their little cabin,
meager in comparison, Gretel had hugged her brother once more and
reached up to kiss his cheek. Tears no longer staining her face, she had even
smiled. She was happy that he had finally decided to do something with his
life, even if it was initially out of guilt. She was jealous, even. What Gretel
wanted more than anything was to find her calling and make something out
of herself.

Looking down at her long ago forgotten stew, Gretel decided that she
had lost her appetite. Just as she got up to pour her cold mush back into the
pot on the stove, she heard footsteps coming from below, getting louder as
her father rose from the basement. Gretel, you barely touched your dinner!
he exclaimed, peering into the bowl in my hands.
She let out a sigh, knowing that her father had her best interests at
heart, but also that he ate like a wolf on most days. He thought she was
crazy to want to skip a meal. Im not hungry, father. Here, you can have it.
Would you like me to warm it up for you?
Are you sure? he asked, and then knowing her answer would not
change, took the bowl. At least take some bread, will you? She nodded that
she would. Good. Thank you for the stew, dear. I can heat it myself. You go
on off to bed.
Goodnight, father, Gretel said with a smile and reached up to hug
him quickly before running off to her bedroom, grabbing a chunk of bread
from her basket on the way. She nibbled at it on and off as she changed into
her nightgown and crept under the covers in her bed. That was another thing
they hadnt given away from their wealthier times. Gretel and Hansel had
shared a room and a mattress that they slept on, but after coming across the
treasure, they were able to buy two small beds. Actual beds! Gretel had been
overjoyed. Now, though, it was lonely in her room. She hardly ever went in it.
It was too hard to have to stare at Hansels empty bed without tearing up.
When he first left, Gretel had often snuck into her fathers room at night and
slept cuddled next to him. It helped rid her of the nightmares she so
frequently received. She would wake up screaming, and before Hansel left,
he would always help calm her down, even after the separate beds. He would
get out of his and squish into Gretels, cradling her in his arms and combing
her hair with his fingers to sooth her until the nightmares went away. She
missed that, now, almost as much as she missed him calling her Blueberry
and the endless times that they went out into the woods to play childrens
games like Chase and Hide-and-Find. They were never too old for those
games. They were never too old for each other. But he had left the nest, and
now it felt as empty as ever.
Gretel stretched out under the covers, extending her legs only to come
in contact with a ball of fur who meowed in protest at being kicked. Sorry,
Kitten! Come here, girl, she cooed, and soon enough the cat was snuggled
up beside her, purring away. She fell asleep with the cats purr and the
ticking of her Time Keeper calming her troubled mind, and that night she
didnt have any nightmares.