2.3 – Thea

~Thea’s P.O.V.~

I was only a few months old when I was taken from my native land. I do not speak the human tongue, so the Watcher will translate for you, when I speak. I was born blind, but I keep that to myself. It is the reason why my eyes are… “white”, like my “father” says. I know he is not truly my father. He doesn’t not sound like him, but I know he will do for now.

I apparently have 6 siblings, soon to be 8. DD is the oldest, a teenager, as I’m told. CoCo is the second oldest, also a teen, then the twins, MoMo and LaLa, then me, and then finally the other twins, TT and ChuChu. I usually do not play with my siblings, but I do speak to them from time to time, or at least I try. They don’t understand my language. The language of the elves.

Nobody does, in this strange land that I now call home. I say it is strange, for many reasons. One, I have to go to something called “school”. Two, nobody here know the elvish tongue. Three, I am regarded as strange and weird, especially at “school”.

I know from the elvish book written in Braille, that I should not be going to “school”, and instead focus on learning how to fight. It’s a very old, dusty book, but it’s written in the elvish language, and in Braille version, as well… so it does well in teaching me my people’s history and past. I very much enjoy reading this book. I spend most of my free time doing so.


Currently, I am reading that book. I enjoy it so, while hearing TT’s footsteps. I glance up, frowning. TT is likely standing in front of me now.

“Give me the book,” She says, likely with her hand out, reaching for the book that I hold dear.

I frown, and respond in my native tongue, “Lala. Sina na- mime parma, mime lumequentale, ar -yes’s vamme important ana tye. Whime care- tye mére- -yes? No. This is my book, my history, and it’s not important to you. Why do you want it?

TT huffs, and takes the book from me, “This stupid, dusty old thing. I don’t see why you like it. You’re so weird, Thea. Everything about you is weird. You don’t know our language, you have pointy ears, pale skin, freckles, bright pink hair with light pink ends, and white eyes. I don’t get it. What makes YOU so different from us, that lets you have this stupid book?”

I knew TT was evil, so I didn’t respond. I wouldn’t give her the satisfaction. I knew our “father” would give me the book back once he found out TT had it. She stole it from me periodically, so I didn’t really care. She couldn’t really read it, anyway, nor understand it.

TT waited a few minutes, before leaving the room with a huff, her footsteps getting quieter as she left. I let out a sigh of relief, before another set of footsteps came near. I knew it was DD.


I liked DD. He was nice to me, and described things to me, and helped me understand the land I was now in. He didn’t mock me or make fun of me for my looks like TT did, and I was grateful for that. I preferred not being bothered by minuscule things like mocking or being made fun of. I had too much of that at “school” and so did LaLa.

My siblings were weird. For being twins, TT and ChuChu were quite different. TT was a snob, but ChuChu was easily impressed by simple things. For example, when DD would play the guitar, which is a hobby he picked up, along with painting, not long after he became a teen. I loved listening to DD play the guitar. It helped me relax and just daydream without caring about what other sounds in the house were, and their purpose.

CoCo was also easily impressed by things, when he wasn’t just laying around watching TV with LaLa. They had to keep the tv quiet at night though, because like CoCo, ChuChu was a light sleeper. Although, MoMo would come out sometimes, annoyed about the fact we even had a tv. MoMo HATED technology with a furious passion, that I’ve only heard of when DD would cook us dinner, when our “father” would work late, which was often. DD was an excellent chef. You could probably say he was a natural at cooking.


DD hums, as I hear him sit down next to him, “Well… how about we start with ‘how are you’?”

I nodded, not saying anything, looking in the direction of his voice.

“Good. How… are… you? Repeat it.”

I bit my lip, “How… are… you…?”

“Good! How are you?”

I smiled, “Good.”

“Let’s see… how about… our names? Let’s start with yours, Thea. Thee-a,” He pronounced.

“Thea,” I smiled.

He hummed, “Good. Dee-Dee. Tee-Tee. Co-Co. Mo-Mo. Chu-Chu. La-La.”

“DD, TT, CoCo, MoMo, ChuChu, LaLa,” I repeated carefully, smiling.

“Hawns. That’s our father’s name. Hans.”

“Hans,” I repeated.

“Good. Fa-ther.”

“Father,” I grinned.

We continued pronouncing different words. I won’t bore you with the details, but I’m very glad my brother is willing to help me learn how to speak in my new family’s tongue.

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