China elephants
Discalimer: I do not own anything
We could do nothing but watch as father became more and more angry. His faced was flushed bright red, and I could see the vein at the nape of his neck pulse with each drum of his momentous heart. Thump. Thump. Thump: a parade of elephants marching down the street.
Andromeda stood her ground, but we hid, in the shadows of the curtains and feared for her.
"He can't do anything," she had said, shakily, "After all, I'm his own flesh and blood."
But we all heard the nervous laugh after her speech, and the quick exhale of breath. She was wrong. She had fallen in love, and this had clouded her judgement.
Everything had appeared to be all right. Father hadn't said a word, and simply listened. His silence should have warned us of his anger, for Father was not usually quiet. We should have known, and stopped Andromeda before she preceded any further.
"You can't be serious," was all father said, softly, jokingly, assuredly. Andromeda assured him that she was.
" I love him Daddy, I really do"
Father looked at us, huddled by the curtains. "Did you know about this?" He asked.
I gave a timid nod. Andromeda shifted her shoes, scuffing them on the varnished wood.
"It's not that bad" Andromeda reasoned, "There are worse things…such…as…"
She stopped. Father looked as if he were about to explode.
"Such as what!" Father had risen out of his chair, and within two strides was standing in front of Andromeda, almost nose to nose. "Such as disgracing the family and making a mockery of me!"
"How can you be so selfish!" He made a gesturer as if to hit her, but the hand only made it half way, before it relaxed and dropped, resting by his side once more. Father sighed.
"Get out. I don't want to see you."
Andromeda was in her room, crying most likely, but we couldn't here her sobs. I gently pushed open her door, and peeped. The curtains flapped absentmindedly, trying to cool themselves in the ridiculous sultry weather, obscuring the harsh gaze of the mid afternoon sun.
"Are you sure we should be doing this?" Bellatrix whispered.
"She won't mind," I whispered back.
Bellatrix never understood my obsessions. She liked spiders, beetles and black, and I, I liked pretty things, luxurious ribbons, lace, and pretty she-dolls.
She lay, spread across her bed, face down, sobbing into her pillow- pillows trimmed with blue. Her brown hair, a mess of tangled ringlets, lighter now that the sun had had a chance to bleach it, was pulled from her face with annoyance. Her hand clutched onto the pillow as if for dear life. Tears glittered down her face.
"Come on." Bellatrix tugged at my sleeve "I'm bored. Lets go and do something else."
I sometimes went to spy on her, when I couldn't sleep at night. I'd slip out of my bed without Bellatrix noticing, and walk down the corridor, in the moonlight, to her room. At first I'd just sit outside and imagine the sound of her breathing; soft and rhythmic, with the occasional fait gasp, of surprise maybe, as she enters a new dream.
After a while, if I did not find myself drifting into the same sleepy realm, I would quietly nudge open her door. I would be able to look at her, then, and her pretty room. She never allowed us in there during the day, and somehow, I didn't think she would have liked me sitting here, in the doorway, staring.
Asleep, she looked so calm, in control, even though her whole world was unravelling right underneath her feet.
I sleep in her room now, amongst her beautiful things. I can imagine her lying beside me, her arms wrapped around me as if I were the pillow, or one of her forgotten possessions. I never understood why she no longer wanted her dolls. She loved them very much. I love them now.
Perhaps she forgot them the night that she ran away. She hadn't left a forwarding address. She doesn't want Father to find out. Maybe she'll come back for them one day.