Sinking In

= Sinking in = Posted by : ryjones on Apr 18, 2018, 3:52pm

Lady’s Grace, August 20th, VERY late evening

Connor had awful dreams, memories he’d long tried to forget. He found himself tossing about frantically, trying to avoid one strike after another. “No daddy! Please stop!” he screamed in his dreams, not realizing he was talking in his sleep as well.

(I know Emma is a NPC, but seeing as how LargeHobbit has written so much for her, I don’t want to take this too far – is she staying by him that night? Does she try and soothe his discomfort?)

~ ~ ~

Abigail was appalled by the place she was in. Unaccustomed to the debauchery of others, she felt a sort of shame just being there. “What would her mother think?” she thought. Oh her dear mother, dead ten years and she still worried what she thought about her. Then there was her pa, the grand cause of it all. But, Abby was all he had and she had to do right by him.

She looked up to a drink in her face. “Drink this sweetie,” Kerry said.

“I… I’m not one for liquor,” Abigail said frailly.

“With the night you’ve had, you need it. Drink darling. Miss Emma says to take care of you tonight, so we will. We’ll get you a new dress, something to eat and a safe bed for the night. After that I can’t say, but you rest easy and like the rest of us take it a day at a time, okay?” Kerry said sweetly.

Abigail was shocked. Before her stood a woman, likely near her own age and having lived a life MUCH different than her own. The differences paramount. She nodded and drank. It burned her throat and she sputtered. Soon enough a girl from the back brought out a plate of food, decent fair which Abby devoured. This seemed to please Kerry and Abby realized she was covered in crumbs. “I’m sorry, it’s just been a while since I ate last. Folks used to give me enough for my playing I could eat once a day and usually get one of them beds at the shelter but ever since the bombing, folks is scurrying about more and not stopping to listen.” Then it struck her… her violin! She looked down at the instrument at her feet, fear had locked it in her grasp until just now. Then she saw it. Broken, and with it her livelihood. She could never afford a new one now. The tears returned.

Emma strolled by, coming to check on their guest while Connor slept. “What now, sweetie?”

“I is sorry ma’am, I’m grateful and all. You’ve been more than saintly through all this, I jus’… jus’… ,” and she held up the broken violin.