Just a quiet, foggy morning - Open ∞
Oct 7, 2012 4:39:13 GMT -5
Post by Augustine ∞ on Oct 7, 2012 4:39:13 GMT -5
That morning, Dahlya Milker opened her eyes feeling, for once, really good. It didn't matter that a thick fog made it impossible to see the color of the sky, or that the temperature made her fingers go numb. She just felt good, without really knowing why. She stepped out of bed and stretched with a yawn.
It's a good thing her mum thought of putting a hot water bottle in her bed last night, because Dahlya's little room is freezing. It's a square, white-walled room with two big windows and simple furniture: a bed, a small wooden desk, a cupboard where are hidden all her belongings, and a finely worked closet. A pastel-colored rug covers the wooden floor and a soapy, vanilla smell fills the air.
Dahlya takes off her nightgown and washes her face with a bucket of cold water and a small piece of soap, shivering because of the temperature. She puts on some opaque black tights, a pale blue dress, black boots and a wool navy sweater and braids her hair back. After taking an expert look in the mirror, she gets down the stairs, careful not to make a noise, and steps in the kitchen where not a single ray of light penetrates the closed window. She quickly opens it and leaves outside by the kitchen door.
The Milker property is probably the largest in District 10 - which, to be honnest, is still not an amazing thing, but it's clean, the grass is green and the cows are healthy. Dahlya stuffs her hands under the wool sweater to keep them warm and walks to a beautiful black-and-white cow. She softly milks the little cow and goes back home with a full bucket of fresh milk. She turns the kitchen lights on and quickly takes her breakfast. A glass of milk and a slice of bread and butter are enough. She takes a mouthful of water to take the taste away and warms up a bowl of water. Once it's nice and bowling, she includes vegetables, vervein, and a piece of beef. She waits, then pours the whole thing into a metal box she safely closes.
« That will make a decent lunch », thinks Dahlya.
The little girl puts the soup box into her school bag, leaves some bread, butter and milk on the table for the rest of her family, puts on a navy tweed coat and heads outdoor, her thick brown braid dancing between her shoulder blades.
Now the sun has poked up from the hills, but it's still amazingly cold for an autumn morning. Red leaves fall from the nearby trees, carried up by the early breeze. Dahlya lets the cold color her cheek, humming a little song her dad taught her the other day.
« ♪ Deep in the meadow, under the willow...
A bed of grass, a soft green pillow...
Lay down your head, and close your sleepy eyes...
And when you awake, the sun will rise... ♪ »
Dahlya sings very softly, almost whispering, but anyways no one is here to hear her, on this desert little path, surrounded by fields of grass. She walks quickly, her black leather boots hitting softly on the ground and looks at the white, cloudy sky. That moment of solitude is her favorite. She doesn't have to talk, she doesn't have to smile. She's just herself, 13 year old Dahlya whose life has become a world of sadness.
Soon enough, the first roofs of a tiny village appeared in sight. Dahlya shoots a look at the school : a small building with plenty of windows. It's too early to go in yet, so instead she just enters the tiny candy store where a woman immediatly smiles at her. She smiles back and asks for a piece of peppermint. The woman gives her a generous piece of the candy but refuses the coin Dahlya tries to pay her with. The little girl ends up taking the peppermint with a grateful smile. This is the kind of gift you just have to accept.
The streets start to fill up with people: the merchants open their stores, the adults go to work and the children head to school, holding their books in their hands or carrying small cloth bags or, for the luckiest, leather bags. Dahlya chews on a piece of peppermint, keeping the rest for her sister or for after-school and watches the pupils gather like ants in front of the school. But Dahlya...Dahlya just stays under the big oak tree with her peppermint, her books, and her soup box.
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