Disclaimer: I do not own The Secret Garden or any and all of its associates.
Author's Notes: This has always been a favorite book of mine since I was very young. It was much more challenging a read and a fantastic movie to me. So, with a little inspiration, I thought to write a bit of my own of it. This is written of Mary's perspective.
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The sky had not changed, still the blanket of grey that was cast over the moore in the winter, shimmers of the murky blue slipping through the cracks of the clouds to signal the spring that desired to come. The winds still dashed through the grasses, singing the same somber tune they carried. The goats still pranced through and grazed. Yet, it felt warm to my soul to return.
Twas 8 years since I had left the Manor and everyone behind. It was not of my choice that I was to leave, but of my parents' will they had found. I was to be sent to their choice of boarding school to be taught to become a lady worthy of class. The news shattered me because it meant I would abandon all that I had worked for, my friendships, my home, my garden. I remember climbing into the carriage and looking out through the curtains of the side. Remembering the sad smile upon Dickon's face as he waved me off. .Colin was so angry, he would not come out to speak to me as I departed. I wondered many a time what had become of the boys since I had left. What had become of the garden, my cherished place?
Upon entering the Manor, I found it eerily quiet, very accustomed to the sound of my school and the chattering of young ladies of all ages. But, this was quieter than my childhood here had ever been. No footsteps echoed through the halls, no soft murmurs of voices from the kitchen, no skittering of mice that made their place in the walls and ceiling. It left me with a deep sense of uneasiness, particulary as the large door closed behind me.
My head picked up at the very faint sound of an instrument being played. A flute. Instinctively, I followed the noise up the stairs to the third floor. The music was like a calling, wrapping around me and pulling me closer as a long time lover would do.
I turned the corner to find the room where the music came from, a form sitting on the window ledge and staring out onto the fields. A young man, slender and nimble fingers danced over the flute as the music played from it. A fine tightly kept ponytail fell down his back, shimmering sandy blonde hair. He turned his head to me slowly and I recognized the eyes that stared at mine, my heart wishing to run to him and embrace him, but my body and manners getting the best of me. Pink formerly pursed lips broke into a somewhat sad smile, then spoke.
"Mistress Mary. How long it has been since the Manor has been blessed by your presence." Dearest Colin spoke to me, not with a child's voice of my distant memories, but the voice of a man, like wine being poured from a newly opened bottle into a crystal goblet.
"Why yes, Master Colin. It has been very long." I could not help but smile back.