a light to guide her home | charade
Sept 3, 2020 7:06:52 GMT -5
Post by k!ah on Sept 3, 2020 7:06:52 GMT -5
E L L E N
Even though Arabella had been killed nearly a week ago, it wasn't until a couple days ago that she had arrived home, tucked away in a casket so small that just the sight had caused her to forget how to breathe. She had been just a child, only sixteen and her life had ended. Her story cut too short. She was supposed to grow old, to find love. To get married and have kids. She was supposed to have her whole life ahead of her... and yet just the other day they had buried her, freshly turned earth marking the place for her eternal rest.
This morning Ellen had picked fresh flowers from the garden. Colours that ranged from orange to pink to yellow and red. Arabella would have loved them, Ellen remembered the mornings where she would come down to the kitchen to see flowers weaved into Bellas hair, eyes alight as she moved around the kitchen humming quietly to herself.
"Ellen! The sunrise was absolutely delightful this morning! I don't even think I could begin to explain the thousands of colours that streaked across the horizon. It was truly a sight," arms would wrap around Ellen's waist tightly for a moment before pulling away to the sound of a screaming kettle. A smile spreads across Ellen's lips at the memory, at the feeling of her arms wrapped around her, at the warmth of her smile, and the love so evident in her gaze.
Eyes drifting shut, tears begin to well in her eyes, one had pressed to the kitchen counter top, the other covering her mouth as she tried to swallow the silent sob. Bella wouldn't want her tears, she would want to see her laugh. To see her smile, to be okay. And maybe one day she would, but right now she needed to grieve, she needed to allow her heart to break so one day she could pick up the pieces, mending it until the new structure was stronger.
And one day it would be.
A knock on the door has her wiping away the stray tears, forcing her shoulders back she smiles. She didn't know who she expected, but she didn't expect to see Katelyn Persimmon. One of the last people to have spoken to Bella. She had heard the stories about the Victor. "Miss Persimmon," she moves to the side, allowing her to move inside. "Please come in- sorry about the mess... I..." her voice trails off, a frowning knitting her brows, "can I get you something to drink?"