Nadora is a major part of everybody's life. Whether they have seen their Nadora or not, people seek it like bees look for nectar.
I'm Sydney Woodrose. I was born on January 17th, 1998. Today is my birthday, two decades and two years later.
I was born on a frosty night. My parents, Howard and Jennifer Woodrose, took it as a good omen. Why, I have no clue. My older brother Chris took great pleasure in telling me, when I was old enough, how I was a harbinger of bad luck for my family. He was grounded for three months without his games and friends. However, he wasn't wrong.
My younger siblings, twins August and September, were much sweeter. The two were joined at the hip - one was never seen without the other. When it came time to name their twin daughters, my parents couldn't agree, so they had a coin flip to determine who got to choose the final names. (Even though this should have been an easy decision, because there were two children and two names... just each name one... Anyway, I digress.) My mother lost, and my dad clearly hadn't thought that he'd win, because he came up with my sisters' names on the spot. I'm not really sure what was going through his head when he decided to name his daughters after two random months of the year. The twins were born in April!
My dad has the weirdest ideas. Case in point, he was once mowing the lawn. The front lawn with the fake grass. When asked why, his reply was, "I'm making sure it's even." He did. He brought out a ruler after he was done and made sure every plastic grass blade was the same height.
I grew up in the small town of Kanis. It's a beautiful place, right at the foot of the Elks. Dad was a construction worker, and had helped put up several major buildings around town. Mum worked as a nurse in the local hospital, and a patients' favourite. You could say my family was quite popular in the small community.
Chris was the sports buff of the family, being a part of the volleyball and football teams through high school. He didn't really mind that I was a girl, our arguments only stemmed from when I refused to play with when he poked me...
August and September were the nicer half of my family. They never took pleasure in teasing me, which I was eternally grateful for. One clown in the family was more than enough, else we would be a circus!
My childhood wasn't anything out of the ordinary. I would go to school, play with my friends, and spend as much time outside as possible to avoid doing my homework. I was, however, a good student, so my parents didn't mind me playing outside. Much.
Every summer, my friends and I spent our time inside watching movies together to evade the heat, racing each other to the ice-cream man when we heard his bell tinkling.
Every monsoon, we made our mothers complain while we went jumping in puddles and ending up with muddy clothes.
Every fall, we prepared for the spookiest day of the year, and when Halloween finally arrived, so did we, dressed to the nines as witches and wizards, ghosts and banshees, zombies and wolves. We spent three days doing anything and everything we could, like hiding under a pile of leaves or throwing fake spiders and snakes at people. We chased the thrill of terrifying people.
We were so close, not even the cold winters kept us apart. We built an igloo once, smuggled out our sleeping bags, and stayed the night there, which resulted in all of us getting grounded for a month.
Spring was spent frolicking in the woods, playing hide and seek and going for swims in the nearby river as the months became warmer. And when summer did arrive, we started all over again.
I first learnt about Nadora when I was twelve. Aug and Sep, who were ten at the time, came running home from the park just as I was returning home. With them they had brought a small rock. It seemed small and ordinary, but they kept exclaiming that "It's glowing!" and, "Look how pretty it is!". Mom told them to keep it safely in their room, and that night, she sat us all down to explain.
"Nadora," she said, a wistful note in her voice. "Nadora is your lucky charm. You know you've seen your Nadora when you see it glow," she explained, making the gears in our head turn.
"Aug and Sep found their Nadora!" I exclaimed, when it clicked.
Mom nodded. "Now, listen close. Not everyone finds their Nadora, and even those who do may not find it until they reach the ripe old age of eighty. I haven't found mine yet, and I might not ever, but it's okay," she said. Looking back on my memory of that day, her smile had traces of sadness that I hadn't noticed as an excitable twelve-year-old. "Dad has found his, but a Nadora is personal, so if you want to know, you'll have to ask him. Remember, don't take it personally if he says no.
"If you ever find your Nadora, keep it safe. It can be anything, or sometimes even anyone. But it's going to be yours, and yours only, so keep it a secret. You have no obligation to tell anyone what it is, so don't tell."
The twins were ecstatic to have found their Nadora. And they were the only ones. Chris, the fifteen year old baby that he had been, had spent an entire day complaining about the unfairness of the situation before going back to his usual overprotective self. Not that I could blame him, the twins were adorable and no one could hold a grudge against them for long.
There's someone knocking at my door. It's time for me to leave.
Sydney set her pen down with a sigh as the doorbell rang. She checked the time. It was eight in the morning, who on earth was at her door so early?!