Drabble Series: I Have Nothing Witty To Say About The Number 14

Jun 06, 2010 18:21


Drabble 14 of 20:  Church

Pairing:  No pairing. Paul centric.

Disclaimer: I do not own the The Beatles. Any events here are purely fictional.

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Introduction

She was standing by the door of the church by herself and ‘looked so lonely’ as his mother said to him when she told him to go there to make her feel ‘happy’. Why should he do that? He didn’t know her.

She petted his head and cooed at him like a little boy. Moved too close to him and touched his arm too many times. She was a creepy weirdo.

He was grateful when his mother called him and did not hesitate to run back.

Paul never noticed the sad look in the lady’s eyes as he ran away.

Wedding

“I caught her picking up the rice after we thrown them,” Mary said to her fascinated classmates one day during break. “My brother noticed and shouted at her and she left but still had the rice in her hands.”

“She’s stupid,” Tommy said and the other kids agreed. Who would do that? Only the little old lady would.

Paul imagined the scene. The people laughing and smiling gathered together to celebrate love while the old woman bent down to pick up the rice piece by piece to take home with her.

For some reason, he felt sad for the weirdo.

Drink

It was a hot day and Paul wanted something cold but he didn’t have any money at all. Sulking, he walked a bit and found himself near the church.

He saw the little old lady standing by the door with a table of something next to her. She smiled at him and he was about to walk away when she said:

“Would you like cool lemonade dear?”

He nodded and went to her, taking careful sips because he heard from the others she poisoned her drinks.

Paul finished it and quickly left, and he never thanked her for the drink.

Family

It was dinner time and his parents were talking. They usually talked boring grown up stuff so he just focused on his food. But tonight was about the little old lady.

“I feel so bad for her,” his mother said while she was sure Paul was too busy with his meal instead (he wasn’t). “It’s her wedding anniversary with her husband and she must be so lonely.

“No family?” His father asked her.

“Her children died when they were little babies and her husband passed away two years ago,” his mother explained. “It’s just so sad.”

He thought so too.

Tears

She was crying. The little old lady was usually so cheerful no matter what and seeing her by the door, crying in her hands, was just a shock.

Feeling uncomfortable to see her cry like this, even if he didn’t like her, Paul walked up over to her and gave her a-

No, that didn’t happen.

It would have happen if Paul was older, wiser and actually knew the meaning ‘lonely’. But he was still a little boy and didn’t know any better.

So he left her alone in the rain as she cried over something he didn’t care for.

Away

“Where did she go?” Paul asked, surprised to see the little old lady was not by the door of the church. “Did she die?”

“Paul!” His mother said, giving him a stern look for his careless words.

“I just want to know,” Paul said, sulking.

His father sighed wearily, “Paul, she’s not dead. She’s just away for a little while. She’s just visiting her husband’s grave for today.” He paused and added, “Paul, it would be nice if you behaved cordially to Ms.-“

Paul stopped paying attention after this because he wasn’t interested. He simply nodded and pretended to care.

Smile

Paul found the little old lady by the door again and she wasn’t smiling. More surprises. He stared at her for a few seconds before, for reasons he still doesn’t know to this day, he walked over to her and tugged at her sleeve.

“Oh,” she said, brightening up when she saw him. “I’m so sorry; I don’t have any candy or drinks today…”

Paul simply showed her his nicest, brightest smile at her in reply. She smiled back, a smile that wasn’t as bright as the one she had but it was soft and very…tranquil.

“Thank you,” she said.

Regret

“She’s dead now,” his mother said to his father, while they were sitting on the couch late at night. “They found her in her house and she wasn’t responding at all. Poor thing, dying alone in her bed and...Paul!”

Paul winced, cursing himself for not hiding himself better enough. His mother went over to him and he was sent back to his room.

“This is grown up stuff Paul,” his mother said when was tucked into bed. “You shouldn’t hear this.”

But Paul heard it and thought long and hard about the little old lady.

He couldn’t sleep that night.

Silence

The little old lady was no longer by the door of the church. She didn’t talk a lot except when people addressed her but the silence she left behind was noticeable. To him at least, no one cared.

Paul looks at the door of the church with some fear because he’s afraid he’ll see the ghost of the little old lady, angry at him or at the other children. Maybe she’ll actually poison their snacks now.

There is no ghost though, just an empty, silent, lonely spot where she should be and that’s somehow worse than an angry, children-poisoning ghost.

Apology

Paul is older now.

Wiser.

And he knows the meaning of ‘lonely’.

He stands in front of her grave, thinking about the little old lady by the door of the church. Ever since he had written that song about her, Paul realized he hadn’t thought about her after all these years.

Poor Paul starts to mutter a soft and full-hearted apology to her. For all the things he had done to her and all the things he didn’t do for her.

And he also says very, very sorry for never bothering to learn her name when she was still alive.

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I refuse to believe that Paul was inspired to write the song, Eleanor Rigby, on a simple whim when on the piano damn it. I know Paul got help from John and all but he wrote most of it. >___>  And this is my attempt to show what a drabble actually was after using the term wrong so many times when doing the other works. So yeah…



love, fanfiction, drabble, sadness, the beatles, i-pod, music

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