Home
Home. What a quandary. As a child, home was a long list of girls’ academies. Endless lines of Head Masters and Head Mistresses who despised me as soon as I opened my mouth. I was not one to suffer fools, but neither was I one that drew needless attention. I merely spoke what I thought and still that did nothing to ingratiate myself to others.
Lucy was the first who drew herself to my side. I do not recall the exact date, although many would think me wicked to have not recorded such a miraculous date. Rather, it was a small moment that I recall of the beginning of our friendship that held me in thrall.
Others, cruel enough to mention that I lacked what most of them took for granted, family, had taken to taunting me the closer time came to winter leave. Nearly all had places to go and those that did not would be wintering with the staff quite happily. All save, the most dreadful of children, myself.
I had taken to hiding within the hollows of my imagination, dreaming of piles of gifts beneath a fir teaming with silver tinsel and warm candlelight. Piping hot cinder filled my nostrils and a belly full of plum pudding spread its warmth through my skinny limbs, but I knew, deep within the cavity of my heart that I would again be alone for the holidays.
“Where are you going this holiday, Mina?”
“Where? Why nowhere.” I had been loathe to admit that to someone as fine as Lucy Westenra, but I could do naught but tell her the truth. There was something wholly untouched in her smiling eyes. Something so clean and fresh that I so desperately craved in my own life.
She grasped my hand, weaving her fingers with my own and drawing them into her lap. “Then we shall have a grand time, you and I. We shall both go to my home and be like sisters, I declare it.”
“But, Lucy-” I had seen the hard look from Mme. Bainbridge at Lucy’s gentle touch and worried she’d punish me for even talking to the fine miss seated beside me “-your home…”
“Shall be yours too, Mina… if you wish it.”
It was that kind, dear woman that took me into her heart and into her home… and still, I failed her utterly. I left her alone… to die.
Word Count 402