AN: So this if my first fanfic, and I know that it's not going to be the best story out there, but hey, I tried! Just something that I came up with when I should have been doing a speech outline for English. Oops. Anyway, hope you enjoy! Reviews much, much appreciated!

Steady Closure

I can hear my father crying again; seems to be a daily occurrence since my mother got sick. He's a strong man who usually doesn't hide emotions from my mother, but this is different. He needs to be strong for her; for both of us. But even the strongest men can break down from time to time.

I sit on my balcony staring up at the stars wrapped in my winter cloak, trying to remember the days before my mother got sick, but coming up with nothing. She's been sick for so long it seems to be the only thing I remember about her. I'm afraid that as the years go by and she is no longer alive, I won't be able to remember her carefree spirit and wild personality. The only memories I will have of my mother will be of her being stuck in her bedroom, slowly slipping away from this world.

I have finally come to term with the knowing that my mother will eventually die. It sounds cruel to say, but we are all really just waiting for the act to finally happen. She's told me on countless times that I shouldn't cry sad tears for her when she dies, but happy tears knowing that she will no longer be in pain. This gives me a little more comfort to her dying, but I know when she finally does pass on, my tears will be as far away as happy as humanly possible.

Snowflakes have started to fall around me, slowly piling up on my cloak. Shivering, I wrap the cloak tighter around me as I make my way back into my room and shut the door leading outside. I hadn't notice how late it had become when I saw my night gown laid across my bed and a fire roaring on the opposite side of the room. The warmth from the fire is a welcoming gesture compared to how cold it had gotten outside. Removing the heavy, woolen cloak, I laid it on the back of a chair and change into my night gown. The warm fabric clings to my skin and I go to stand in front of the fire to warm up before going to sleep.

Staring into the fire, I get lost in the flames thinking about my mother, trying to remember something, anything about her. But it's all a blur. Tears threaten to spill over, but I calm myself down, reminding myself I haven't lost her…yet. A light knock on my door makes me jump; the first noise I've heard in hours.

I turn around and see my maid, Annabelle, staring at me with wide, sad eyes. She doesn't have to say a word and I can already feeling my world crashing around me. I stumble backwards away from the fire and collapse on to my bed, tears streaming down my face.

How? I ask myself. How is she already gone? I only just talked to her a few short hours ago and she seemed fine! I crawl under my covers and let the sadness consume me. Through my sobs, I hear my door open again. Ignoring whoever has come in, I roll over and look outside my window, watching the snowflakes swirl around the night sky. I'll never be able to enjoy snow again, I think to myself.

Lost in my thoughts, I feel my bed sag a little with the weight of someone sitting down upon it. Knowing my father was the person sitting beside me, I roll back over and crawl into his lap, something I haven't done in years. He just holds me tight and rocks me back in forth, not even trying to stop my tears.

At that moment, we are two people mourning the loss of something dear. Not caring that in normal times our actions would not be considered acceptable. We are just a father and daughter filled with sorrow for the one they both had loved dearly.

~oo~

(Three months later)

My mother's funeral was in the old church she had adored across town. It seemed that everyone we knew in London was there. Even people I've never met before. It's sad to think that so many people meet for the first time when they are both paying respects to someone they once knew.

As the weeks went on, it was becoming easier to cope with my mother's death. It may take years before I can think of her again without tearing up, but now it's at least easier to go through daily activities without starting to cry randomly. I can tell Father is dealing with the loss of his wife much easier as the days go on. He's back to work now and there are some days when I hardly ever see him. Annabelle tells me that's how he is grieving: going back to the old routines and going on with life.

0o0

Father sat me down a few days ago and told me of a new business opportunity for him. Days later I can still remember the conversation perfectly…

I was sitting on my bed staring out the dark window. I've come to realize that I have been doing that a lot lately. To me, there is something comforting about the darkness outside, like a dark blanket has been laid over the city.

I heard a soft knock on my door, and turned to see Annabelle enter.

"Miss, your father has requested you join him in the study. He has something very urgent to discuss with you."

"Please tell him I will be down shortly, Annabelle," I respond, turning back to look out the window. I hear her "yes Miss" and see her reflection curtsy in the dark window and retreat back out the door.

Not wishing to leave my room, I continue to stare out the dark glass for a moment longer. When I felt that I had left my father waiting long enough, I leave my room and head towards my father's study.

"Ah! Elizabeth, good! I have some very important news to discuss with you. Please sit." He gestured to one of the chairs in front of his desk.

Sitting down, I could tell that whatever he was going to tell me was going to be life changing. His eyes gave way to how exciting the news was going to be, and usually anything exciting to my father tended to be a little life altering to everyone else.

"A few days ago, I was approached to be the new governor of a small town in the Caribbean. Now, I know it's kind of sudden with your mother only passing away a few months ago, but I think this will be a great opportunity for the both of us." He eyed me carefully waiting to see if my quick temper will rise and start refusing to go anywhere. But for once, I was silent. Seeing as I was not saying anything, my father continued on, but I no longer heard him.

The thought of leaving London tumbled around in my head making me dizzy. Leaving our home would mean leaving my mother behind, an idea I wasn't very comfortable with. But if we left, it would also mean being able to get closure on her death easier and there would be fewer distractions that would remind me of her, an idea I started to like.

I guess I had once again gone off into my own world for I didn't even notice my father had stopped talking and was just staring at me. I snapped back into reality and gave him a sweet smile.

"Father, I would be most pleased to move. A change of scenery may be good for us; give us closure to Mother's death." And with that, my father smiled. The first real smile I've seen him give in these past few months.

"Good," he said, patting my knee, "we leave in a fortnight. Best start packing now. Don't want to be in a rush the night before!"

So that was that. We would be leaving for the town of Port Royal in less than two weeks. As the days went by, the idea of moving started to sound better and better. I was sad to be leaving my home and my friends, but excited for the new adventures that lay ahead. I couldn't wait to feel the warmth of the sun again and never have to worry about the cold. That was one thing about home I was certain I would not miss. I was ready for heat and sun.

~oo~

(Two weeks later)

Once aboard the ship that was taking my father and me to the Caribbean, I could finally feel all of my stress and fears lift off my shoulder. For now, nothing mattered but the wind in my hair and the spray of the sea on my face. For the first time since my mother got sick two years ago, I felt like singing.

"Yo ho, yo ho, a pirate's life for me."