Kamea

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Kamea, her name means sweet darling. Her mother had a difficult delivery, and when Kamea was born her mother passed away. Unfortunately her father was away at war at the time of her birth, so she went on to live with Ms. Miller, a woman who gave her home out to victims of the war.

When Kamea first arrived, there were two other girls and another boy living there already, over the next three years it grew to nearly twenty children and ten women. Ms. Miller was determined to give each and every child the best start she could, so from a very young age, Kamea, as well as the other girls, were taught the proper etiquette of ladies.

For five years the war raged on, she got little word of her father, and soon began to view him a mystical hero, somewhere far off, fighting gallantly like the knights in her story books. Even when he finally returned, dirty, tired, and grief filled, was still the god like apparition, she’d always thought of him as.

She saw him cry only once in her life, the first day she truly met him, he and Ms. Miller talk seriously for a few moments, and his smile faded. He slumped down in a chair and wept bitterly. Though they never told her, she found out that he hadn’t know his wife had died in childbirth, and had come back expecting to see her with his new little girl at her side.

He recovered quickly, Kamea became his saving grace, she was sweet and docile, and looked just like her mother. She had soft delicate features, she looked like a porcelain doll, pale skin with huge dark green eyes, framed by thick lashes. She got her thick blonde hair from her father, but otherwise she was her mother up one side and down the other.

Her father was very protective of her, enrolling her in schools with the best reputation, and shielding her from nearly all of life’s problems he could, keeping her adorably naive for as long as possible.

As she grew older, she realized slowly that her father was not the sliver armored knight she envisioned when she was young, but she never lost the idea of him being a protector of sorts, a hero.

Her sixteenth birthday was fast approaching, when war broke out once more, he father became sulky, and sad. Then he received word that he was needed in the battlefield, he knew it would come sooner or later.

Saying goodbye was the hardest thing he ever did, and Kamea wept bitterly. A year passed, and the war showed no signs of letting up. Then three weeks before the eighteenth birthday, the enemy invaded, Ms. Miller woke then in the middle of the night, and calmly led them to the woods, and into a van.

For hours she drove, not stopping for anything, till finally she ordering them all out of the van, and quietly snuck them across the boarder, to her sister’s house. The older children were told what had happened, and why they had to leave.

After a few weeks, Kamea knew she had to leave the house, it was too crowded and she knew Ms. Miller was stretching her funds greatly to sustain the children comfortably. So she left seeking out job, so she could live on her own, and send money back to Ms. Miller.

She left the night of her eighteenth birthday, and set out to make a place for herself.