A/N: So I had edited this before, but then it all got deleted and I had to rewrite it from scratch. I tried all that I could think of to get the original file, but nothing worked. It was really disheartening and I know the writing isn't going to be as good as what it had been. Hopefully it's still okay though and you guys like it!
I've even done a drawing of Jack and Verity that you can find the link to on my profile! It's nothing mature. It's super adorable though. Check it out!
Also, I've reached over 4,000 views! Even if it might not be a lot by this fandom's standards (I'm not sure), I'm pretty proud of it! Thanks to all of you reading this!
WARNING: Abuse.
Please read, review, and enjoy! :)
Chapter 29 - Cinder's Memories, Part 2
The memories blended one into the other as the years continued. The ethereal watchers gleaned from these memories that nothing was both distinct and separate. The friendship between Verity and Jack was the most vivid, but neither watcher felt that it was entirely separate. The entities floated in and out with pieces of information that had probably been overlooked during the actual timeline. Every small smile, every little action, held more significant meanings. One ethereal watcher, however, could not misplace the feeling that it was the wrong girl. The personality didn't match. But the connection was genuine, and the other ethereal watcher reassured the former of just that, since it had lasted over six years at this point.
The pair was laying in a small clearing just outside of the village's view. The green grass had grown past their waists, making the place perfect for grass-angels. Patting down the blades of grass, they created a bridge to each other's spots by grasping each other's hand. From the village, it was impossible to see that anyone was there. Verity thought it was the perfect meeting spot for her and Jack before they embarked on a new adventure. But some days they just stayed in the field and talked. Some days that was exactly what Verity needed. One day Verity was telling Jack about a hilarious event she had witnessed the other day. Jasper had tried to talk to this one girl and must have said something inappropriate because she smacked him hard and Jasper ran away with the most hurt look on his face. Jack was laughing harder than she had anticipated him to, however, and she asked him why.
"Actually," he tried to catch his breath from the giggle fit, "I told Jasper that she liked him," another breathless laugh, "and that she told me to tell him to go talk to her!" He was holding his stomach, lines creasing his eyes.
"Jack!" Verity stopped in her tracks and glared at him. "That's so rude!"
"Payback is supposed to be rude," Jack justified himself as he sat up. The blades of grass tickled his features as he looked back at the redhead splayed in the bed of grass.
"If he comes after you, and I'm not saying you'd deserve it, but, I'm not helping you out of the fight he's sure to start," Verity sat up and poked him square in the chest.
"Oh yeah?" Jack poked her right back. "I don't know if you really have the muscles to help, anyway," he joked playfully. Jack dodged away from Verity's next playful attack. Then he had an idea as he stood.
"Jerk," Verity pushed him and stuck out her tongue, closing her eyes in the gesture. But when she opened her eyes Jack was nowhere to be seen. How was this possible? He had been right in front of her only a moment ago. He hadn't lain back in the grass, Verity would have heard the swishing of the grass. "Jack? I know you're just hiding," Verity didn't sound very confident as she stood, looking in every direction. "Jack...? Jack, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to call you a jerk. I mean, you were totally a jerk, but I still didn't mean it. Don't disappear like this! I'm sorry, Jack!" She was about to turn again, making it a full circle, when she bumped her forehead against something solid. Verity yelped as she gripped her head and reeled backwards.
"Ow," Jack was hanging upside down from a tree branch above. "You have a hard head, you know that?"
Verity pouted. "Adding insult to injury, are we?"
"You're the one who ran into my face," Jack tried to poke her nose, but being upside down made it slightly difficult. His finger wavered in concentration, and when his finger finally connected with her upper lip instead, Verity responded with a series of giggles. The fact that Jack was trying so hard was very comical. Cheering her up was one of his favorite pastimes, one at which he was very successful nine times out of ten.
"Get down, Jack," she shook her head thoughtfully. He complied with a rueful smile. He swung his legs around and tumbled onto the grass at her feet, grinning up at her like a goof. Verity laughed as she pulled him up onto his feet and began walking away. Accompanying her back to the village, Jack thought about pulling the same trick on her. But considering he didn't particularly like getting bumps on his head, he settled for something different. Jack slowly relaxed his pace and let Verity take the lead. She was off in her own world, as usual, making her the perfect target. She knew that Jack would never hurt her. He would certainly never prank or play a trick on her twice in the space of a few minutes.
Okay, that last statement was wrong.
In a measured rush, Jack wrapped his arms around Verity's waist and hoisted her up into the air, feet barely brushing the ground. Her fearful shriek changed into one of dreaded laughter. Jack grinned, giving her a look before running off deeper into the woods with her on his shoulders. Verity flailed her legs and swatted his back with her small ineffectual fists, giggling as he ran to some unknown destination. Jack spun her around, dizzying her even more before she felt her weight lift into the air. Then Jack's hands were gone. In one sickening heartbeat, Verity began to freak out. Had Jack tripped? She thought she heard him say something about keeping her arms about, but before she could comply, warm water engulfed her figure. The water went over her head and some found its way down her throat. Kicking up to the surface, Verity glanced upward and blinked the water away. Up above the bank, Jack was hysterically laughing with tears in his eyes. Two could play at this game.
Verity ducked back into the water and swam silently toward the bank. Before Jack knew what happened, his ankle was soaked and yanked downward. Slipping in the mud, Jack's "whoa" was muffled by the sudden intake of water. Verity had dragged him into the pond with her. When he came back to the surface, Verity was a few feet away, treading water and laughing at him. Jack smirked and lunged at her. He caught her side and spun her around in the water, his feet anchored in the muddy bottom. Once he was going fast enough, he let go of Verity and she sailed further into the pond. Her world kept spinning for a few seconds, Jack's laughter swiveling in her mind. When she was treading again, Verity launched a large splash in his direction. Shaking his head, Jack stuck his tongue out, mocking her. Verity, in a split second, starting swimming past him, challenging him to a race. This was largely unfair, because they both knew that Verity was the better swimmer. Jack may have taught her, but Verity had an ambitious personality. It was strange how that disappeared when she was at home, but home was far, far away from the present moment. Despite having drenched her last clean dress, Verity was in high spirits.
This was how they spent most of their time together. Eventually, some of the younger kids that Jack had taken to watching while their parents worked would play with her, too. They didn't care about her hair; they played games with her anyways. At the age of sixteen, Verity was already seeing the changes in the new generations of the village. She was becoming accepted as a normal girl. It felt weird. It felt right.
One day a little blond girl came up to Verity, asking if she could do a braid in her hair like the one Verity had in hers. Verity knew this girl, although not directly. But there was no reason to think differently about this girl. She was innocent. They were on common ground.
"Sure thing, Alison," she pat the ground next to where she sat and Jasper's little sister sat down. The patch of dirt they were on was one of the few spots where snow had melted early. It was late winter and early spring, being around March, and it was one of the few first nice days of the year. Alison had a doll in her hands and she was busy playing around with it while Verity worked at her hair. She enjoyed braiding hair, but never had another person's hair to work with. Doing one's own hair was always so different. Of course, she'd tried to braid Jack's hair, but he mandated that she would have to catch him first. Then he would proceed to run away, leaving her to chase after him to no avail more often than not. One time she did succeed, but the poor braid that resulted was hardly worth the effort. But it had been worth the laughter. Verity's delicate fingers laced through the girl's golden straight strands, piecing and weaving together expertly.
Jack came over with a little girl close to his side. Verity had seen her around the village before, but never away from Jack. She seemed oddly attached, but Verity smiled at her and waved. Perhaps she could get the girl to come out of her shell. The little girl only slid further behind Jack and he laughed.
"Sophie, it's okay. That's Verity. She's a friend," he placated to her, ruffling her hair. She pouted and swat at his hand weakly.
Verity smiled at the embarrassed little girl. She reminded her of herself when she was younger. "Hi, Sophie," Verity's voice softened. "Do you want your hair braided, too?"
"Hey, me first!" Alison piped up. The little girl turned toward Verity and the other two with sass dancing in her eyes.
Verity laughed. "Of course, Alison; I meant after I was done with yours." Although in reality, Verity's hands were already beginning to numb from the weather. It was nice out, comparative to last week's snowstorm, but it was still chilly. Occasionally, Jack would try to warm her hands with his, but Verity wouldn't let him do that this time. He'd attempt to ruin the braid, she knew it. She'd known him for too long. The braid was nearly done and she inwardly groaned about doing another one, but Sophie looked like she really wanted to have her hair done. She was just really shy.
"Okay!" Alison looked to Sophie. "Do you wanna play with my doll?"
Sophie peered at Jack for permission. "Sure," the little girl peeked out from behind Jack's legs and walked over. She sat down carefully next to Alison and looked up to Jack again. It was as if she was afraid that she was doing something wrong.
"I'll sit right here behind you," Jack assured her and took the spot next to Verity. Laying his legs out straight in front of him and on either side of Sophie, she grabbed his legs protectively. Smiling at her, he whispered quietly to Verity: "That's my little sister. She hardly ever gets out of the house."
"Reminds you of someone, doesn't it?" Verity smirked, pulling another section of hair from the left side of Alison's head.
"Oh, not you," Jack elbowed her playfully. The reaction made Verity tug at Alison's hair.
"Careful!" Verity warned him. "I'm almost done Alison's hair." She narrowed her eyes at him but Jack just shrugged it off. He knew she wasn't threatening, but it was fun to see her try. She'd warmed up considerably compared to her ten-year-old self, and Jack prided himself in propelling that change. He knew she needed some fun in her life.
"Yeah! Don't mess it up!" Alison pointed to him and narrowed her eyes, copying Verity. Jack laughed at her face and promised that he wouldn't move an inch. Sophie and Alison played together at their feet while Jack and Verity spoke softly behind them. After all these years, they still spoke as often as they could. On this particular day, it was the first time they spoke to each other in a little over a week. They hardly went a few days without taking the other away from their homes out of pure boredom. Mainly, Jack found his way to her house and stole her away from under her father's nose. Sometimes he was caught and told to leave, and other times the father was already passed out from drinking. Verity still preferred to meet him at the clearing rather than risk him being seen at her house, but Jack couldn't have cared less about that. If he was bored and wanted to have some fun, he'd run to her house no matter what. Sometimes it was in the middle of the night when he came to grab her. Those times had been especially fun, but they had to stop because Verity would end up oversleeping from exhaustion. And that never went over well with her father.
The years that passed hadn't made it any easier on Jack, seeing what Verity was going through. He learned later on that her mother had died in childbirth and that everyone thought her a monster, including her father. Although she would never admit it, Jack knew that the marks and bruises were from her father. She insisted she was just really clumsy, but Jack had heard her father yelling one night and put the pieces together. Even if he never saw him hit her, Jack knew Verity was in constant danger and he couldn't do anything about it. Nevertheless, Jack did everything he could to make her smile. It wasn't too hard these days, but he still did all that he could, regardless. He always enjoyed her company. He taught her how to be cheerful and carefree, although she was hardly the latter case.
"Hey, Sophie," Verity interrupted one of Jack's whispered sentences to speak sweetly to his sister, "I'm done Alison's hair and she has to go back home for a little bit. Do you still want me to do yours?"
Sophie's face had panic written all over it; she suddenly didn't want Alison to leave. She looked to Jack with a worried expression and Jack simply laughed and poked her nose, making her wrinkle it. Her face went from fearful to cheerful faster than Verity could blink. It seemed that Jack had that effect on everyone.
"It's okay, Sophie," he placated again, "Alison will come back and I'm still here."
Sophie nodded and then looked at Verity with a wide, toothy smile. "Yes, please," she said as she scooted in between Verity's legs so that she could reach Sophie's hair with ease.
"She has more manners than a certain person I know," Verity nudged Jack in the ribs, soft laughter escaping her lips. Jack sniveled at her and laughed along.
"Sorry I don't come around as much," Jack picked up where he left off, "I've had to take care of Sophie more often now that my father's gone." He had finished explaining that his father had gone off on a village-wide hunt that the men regularly participated in before the winter settled in and meat became scarce. His father hadn't come back, and hardly anyone wanted to tell the cheerful kid that his father was dead.
"Oh, that's fine," Verity waved a temporarily free hand at him. "I've been busy at home anyway. My father's getting older and more senile by the day."
"I'm pretty sure the last part isn't because of his age," Jack ventured.
Verity huffed air out of her nose as a sign that she thought it was funny, but not very funny. Jack knew that he hit a sore spot and decided not to pry. "Yeah, well, I still have to deal with it, and we're running out of his favorite whiskey."
"Already? I thought you just bought him two kegs' worth the other day?" Jack was incredulous. That man drank more than the entire town combined for an entire year. It was a wonder that the man wasn't dead yet, and a shame.
That time Verity laughed. Her laughter was rare some days, so Jack tried his best to hear it whenever he could. "That was last week, but yeah. I'm supposed to be getting it now," she said as she tied off Sophie's braid. For a finishing touch, she plucked a little orange flower and settled it behind her ear. "There you go, Sophie. Now you're super pretty!"
"The flower looks just like your hair!" Sophie commented as she turned around, pointing at Verity's bright orange locks twisted in a loose braid.
Smiling, sadly this time, Verity nodded. She understood that it was a compliment, but years of being taunted for it still yielded faded scars. "Yep, it sure does." Turning to Jack, she said, "I better get going."
"I'll go with you," Jack offered.
Verity halted Jack's advance. "No you won't. You have a little princess with you, and princesses need to be taken care of. Right, Princess Sophie?" She leaned down and winked at Sophie.
"Right!" She chirped and grabbed Jack's hand. Sophie was perking up already. "Come on, Jack! Mommy's waiting for us!"
Before Verity turned to leave, she called to Jack. "I'll be back in ten minutes, I promise! Meet me at the pond!" It was too nice a day out to skate, but hanging around the pond still had its perks.
Jack looked back at Verity as she was walking away, her dress swaying with every careful, graceful, step. Despite the increased number of bruises he had seen on her shoulders and back and legs, she still walked as gracefully as she skated on the ice. That was one of the definite reasons why Jack doubted the stories about her life at home. But he could never breach the subject; she always shot it down or changed the conversation.
Verity had walked back to the center of the village on the way to the brewer's place. On her way past the communal campfire, she heard a catcall come from the opposite side. Turning to see who it was, she recognized Jasper leaning against a pile of logs. He'd grown out considerably well. Chiseled and calloused by work in the woods, he was hardly a boy anymore. Still, Verity found him rather unpleasant.
"What do you want, Jasper?"
"Oh I wasn't calling to you, I was calling to the pretty one," Jasper nodded to a girl on the other side of the clearing that paid him no attention, "but I guess you can hold my interest for a few minutes." He walked over to her and stood over her with a fiendish grin slapped on his face.
"Funny, but I've got an errand to run," Verity tried to walk around him but he cut her off.
"What's the rush? If the old man's not dead yet, he'll be dead by the time you get back with his booze," Jasper laughed morbidly.
"I don't care, he's still my father and he'll be angry if I don't go get it before the day is over. Now if you'll excuse me," she tried to skirt around him but was cut off again, his hand landing on her shoulder.
"Why keep doing what that crazy old guy wants you to? Shouldn't you be getting spoken for? Oh, wait," he answered his own question before Verity could say anything, "I forgot. You won't be spoken before because everybody thinks you're a witch. And they'll always think that. You may as well cut off all that hair and become a boy. Maybe we'd all like you better," he jeered at her, pushing her backward.
"Not now, Jasper," Verity was tired of this. In all these years, he never stopped bullying her. Thankfully, Jack had always been there and Jasper usually skulked away. But this time, Jack wasn't there and Verity had to word her way around the situation. "I have plenty of time to be spoken for, I'm only sixteen."
"Most of my family got married off at thirteen," he reasoned, "so you're a little behind. You'll probably end up as on old, unmarried hag, unless that Jackson boy is stupid enough to ask for you. I doubt he ever would; he acts like such a child all the time. You know what he did the other day? I'm sure you do, that idiot can't keep himself away from you; it's like he doesn't know what's good for him."
Verity's defense broke down. Jack didn't think that way about her at all, she was sure, and the same was true the other way around. But even if Jack did think that way about her, she didn't believe she would go through life alone. Her father would probably pick someone for her if he truly wanted her out of the house. But the comment about Jack... she couldn't stand for that.
"Oh? What's this?" Jasper poked her shoulder when he saw her face deadpan. "Was what I said about Jackson true?"
"No," Verity spoke firmly, "and you're an idiot if you think you know anything about him."
"Now, now, Verity," Jasper whispered, suddenly too close for her comfort, "speaking out against a man is very unladylike. But it's also frowned upon for a man to hit an unwed woman," he added as he kicked his foot out behind her knees and pushed her backward, making her trip and fall. Before she could tell what happened, he kicked her in the side and began to walk away. "Even if that woman is a witch," he snickered and sauntered off. Turning around suddenly, he added one last warning: "Tell Jack that if I see him again I'll kick his teeth in."
Verity's tears pooled in her eyes and she stood up and ran, not caring if others were judging her every move. They had been doing that her whole life, and she knew that they would side with Jasper if there was ever a public dispute to be witnessed. Jack didn't deserve any of this, but his involvement with her was going to get him hurt, she realized. Verity ran into the brewer's and bought more whiskey, making like a bandit for her father's house. She set it down on the counter and was about to leave again when her father spoke.
"'N where ye think yer goin'?" His drunken slur had worsened over the years, and the words were getting harder and harder to interpret.
"I got you more whiskey, sir," she pointed to the container on the table.
"Dis place's a mess!" he yelled, spitting everywhere. "Who'd taught ye 'ow to live like dis? It's disgraceful!"
"It's like this every day," she whispered, not wanting to deal with his bone-headed behavior.
"What ye sayin'? I ought to cuff ye fer back-talkin' to yer father. How's ye s'posed to be a wife when ye can't take care of yer old man?"
This was the second comment in one day about her marriage plans, and Verity was getting annoyed. "I thought you'd want me to stay here and look after you," she reasoned.
"Methinks ye need to be bossed 'round by 'nother man. Maybe he'll teach ye 'ow to obey a man's word," her father cleared his throat maliciously.
Verity clenched her fists until the knuckles gleamed white. She finally snapped. "All I ever do is wait on you every second of every day. I clean the house, including your nightly vomits after you've finished enough whiskey to kill a bear, I do the laundry, and I feed your stupid mouth enough for a small army without giving any to myself. Don't you think I deserved a childhood? That I deserved friends? Or maybe a little hint of love from you, my father? Because I've seen none of it, and I'm not going to get married to a replica of your sorry ass!"
"Ye li'l wretched witch!" Verity's father's voice boomed louder and spat his saliva all over the house. "I teach ye what happens to a woman who disrespects a man!"
He lunged drunkenly after her and grabbed her arm with more strength than she thought he realized. He pulled her up by her arm to meet her eyes, her feet dangling inches above the floor. She kicked out her legs blindly; the pain in her arm increasing to the point where she wasn't sure she felt blood circulating anymore. He smacked his forehead into hers and she cried out in pain. "If ye think that's all, just ye wait!" He gripped her arm tightly and threw her to the ground, forcing her to land on the same arm with a sickening crunch. Tears fell from her eyes without control and she clutched the broken arm, wailing painfully.
"Git up, wench!" He picked her up by her other arm and slapped her face with his full force, knocking her senseless.
The beating continued for an undeterminable amount of time. At some later point there was a knock on the door and Verity was virtually unconscious, sprawled haphazardly on the floor. Her father had already walked out for the rest of the day and taken the whiskey with him. Verity was vaguely aware of her surroundings, and the urgent knocking at the door rang like church bells in her head, giving her a massive headache. Grasping the chair beside her, she tried to pull herself up and fell in pain when she realized that her right arm was broken. Seeing an old blanket, she ripped off a large triangle and wrapped her arm in a sling around her neck. The knocking continued and she felt like she wanted to fall asleep. She figured it was probably her father coming back, so she took her time getting to the door.
"Verity! Verity! Are you home? Verity!" Jack's familiar voice sounded off in the remainders of her consciousness. Using every scrap of energy she could muster, she opened the door, making sure only to expose the unhurt side of her face.
"Jack?"
"Verity! Oh my God, what happened? You said ten minutes, and it's been an hour! I thought something had happened! I left Sophie at home with Mother so I could go and find you," Jack's worries flew out of his mouth so quickly that Verity hardly heard half of it.
"I must've forgotten," Verity's words slurred slightly, "sorry, Jack."
There was something on Verity's shoulder and Jack's brows furrowed. "What's that around your arm? Did Jasper do that?" He wouldn't mention her father because he knew that she would deny it. This way, she might at least refute the explanation.
"I just fell on my way to get the whiskey," Verity lied, "I promise, it's not as bad as it looks."
Jack didn't believe her in the slightest, but he didn't know what to do. Whenever he suggested a different reality, she pushed him away and shut herself up in her shell. That was the last thing Jack wanted her to do. He had worked so hard to get her to open up to him, and he wasn't about to lose her friendship like that. But what was he going to say? What could he say to make her go with him?
"Look, I don't feel very well," Verity's broken voice interrupted his thoughts, "I think I'm just going to take a nap. I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"
Jack nodded, any trace of happiness gone from his face. There was nothing he could do at this point. "See you," he said halfheartedly.
After Verity shut the door, she slumped to the floor and suffered. Jack didn't need to worry about her. She told him that thousands of times. The fun and the games were enough to make her happy, and she was content to keep it there. Jack was her friend, but he didn't need to know anything that would involve him even more so in her unfortunate life. She wanted to keep him safe, above all. Her first and one of her only friends was not going to become a victim.
Verity sighed and let her good hand fall to the floor, where she felt something underneath her palm. Lifting her hand, she saw that there was a tooth that must have become unearthed at some point during the fight with her father. Picking it up, she figured it must have been one of hers. Feeling around her mouth with her tongue, she couldn't tell if any were missing. It was still sore and swollen on one side, so she took it for granted that she probably lost a tooth in the scuffle. Verity stood up and went to her normal sleeping spot. She didn't have a pillow, but she took her blanket and used the end as a pillow and put the tooth underneath it. This'll have to do. She closed her eyes and fell asleep almost instantly.
The next morning, she awoke to her father snoring loudly from the other side of the one-room cabin. Sitting up on her left hand, she took a minute to fully wake up. Remembering that she put her tooth under her blanket, she tore it away and stared around in surprise. The tooth was gone. The Tooth Fairy had come and taken it, so it must have been hers after all.
She got up and put on a different, cleaner dress from the laundry that she had done the other day. Then she went out and walked to the river, rinsing her hair slowly in the frigid water. It was winter again, but she knew she looked like a wreck, so the trip to the river was worth it. She carefully unwrapped the blanket from her arm and realized it was swollen and out of place. Biting down on the shred of blanket, she reset the bone. Screaming into the blanket, tears fell down her cheeks. It was what she had to do to make sure no one who cared found out. She put the blanket back around her arm and neck, and set to splashing her face with the cold water. Fully awake, she began walking back to her house.
"Verity!" she heard a familiar voice shout in her direction. "Verity! You're okay!"
Turning around slowly, she saw Sophie running straight toward her. Sophie slowed down when she saw the makeshift cast and one black eye. She walked up and hugged Verity's waist carefully.
"Hello, Sophie. How are you doing?"
"I'm good, but why's your arm in a blanket?" the little girl asked innocently.
"I fell on my arm yesterday and it's sore, so I'm making sure that I don't hurt it any further," Verity explained lightly.
"Oh," Sophie didn't really understand, "well, Jack's been worried about you. He really likes you. And if my brother likes you, then I like you, too. "
That hit a spot in Verity's heart. "That's sweet, Sophie," Verity squatted down to her level and put a hand on her shoulder, "you can tell him that I'm okay. He doesn't need to worry so much. Tell him that I'll stop by when my arm's better, okay?"
"Okay..." Sophie's sad voice tapered off unevenly.
"Hun, don't cry," Verity hugged Sophie. "You're out here all by yourself, without your big brother! I'd say you're pretty brave. And brave people don't cry," she pointed out.
"Yeah," Sophie cheered up a little, "thank you, Verity. I'll see you soon!"
"Goodbye, Sophie!" Verity waited until Sophie was out of sight to run back home. If Jack ever came looking for her, she had no intent of him accidentally running into her in the village. She would stay in her house as long as possible so that Jack would calm down and get off of her case, for his sake. Slamming her door behind her, Verity tried to steady her breath. She told herself that she would focus on getting better and making her father trust her again. Then she would hang out with Jack again, and things would be back to normal. This is what she told herself for the three weeks that it took her arm to heal. By that time, most of her bruises were gone and the beatings had been minimal since then. If anything, her father hardly spoke to her at all.
Her birthday came and passed without much commotion. The village hardly acknowledged her existence, which she had gotten used to, and she doubted that anyone who did care about her remembered it at all. They had their own lives, and she didn't want to slow them down. She was stuck in the middle of time somewhere in the void, and there was no reason to drag unfortunate souls down with her.
Verity knew that she had told Sophie that she would see Jack and her when her arm was healed, but she postponed it as much as she could. She often never left the house out of fear that she might come across them in passing and they would bombard her. One day she snuck out to the back of the house just to do laundry. But when she came back around the side of the house, she saw a slip of paper stuck underneath the door. Letters never came to this house: no one bothered to check up on either of them. Her father said that they had no relatives, so Verity knew it wasn't something like that. Setting the laundry down, she plucked the folded paper and put it in her pocket. After she got inside and hung the laundry by the fire, she sat down on the hearth and took out the letter.
It was on a scrap of old paper, ripped and torn out of a journal. Puzzled still, she flipped the first of the three folds and nearly cried in shock. The top of the letter was addressed to her.
It read:
Happy Belated Birthday, Verity -
I'm getting worried about you. I haven't seen you since the day you left to go get whiskey for your father - almost a month ago. Sophie came to me afterwards and told me you were wearing a blanket around your arm; that you fell on it and tried to heal it. And she said you looked awful, like you were sick. Verity... if your father did that, you have to tell me. I promise I won't tell anyone if that's what you want. But I don't want you to lie to me and ignore me. Please, come see me and let me know you're alright.
I'm your friend, Verity. Always will be,
- Jackson
Verity had tears in her eyes. The scratches from the pen and smudge marks from the writing mistakes were everywhere, as if Jack was trying his hardest to bring her back. It was like he made a fitful decision about each and every word he chose, and she didn't know what to do. Jack clearly cared about her well-being, and that was going to make it harder to lie to him about her father. If Jack got involved, Verity knew that he would try and stop her father, and she knew all too well that it would end badly. After debating by the doorknob for what seemed like ages, she tore the letter up and tossed it in the fire. Then she set to work, determined to forget about Jackson Overland.
Every job opportunity that came up she took with great enthusiasm. Her father almost smiled at the change in his daughter's personality. He may have even apologized had he not taken to drinking by ten in the morning, every morning. Despite all of the changes for the better, in his opinion, he couldn't bring himself to forgive her for killing her mother, and he let her know that every night after he drank his fill. Every night for the past seventeen years of Verity's life, she heard the statement over and over. Aren't you sorry that you killed your own mother just so that you could live? You're a selfish murderer! A murderer! She heard it so many times that it slurred together and she knew it by heart, which had been broken every possible way by her father. But there was one night where he fell asleep before he could repeat those words, so ensnared with thorns.
She remembered that night for a long time.
A/N: Aaaaannnd things start to go downhill. Very downhill. Sorry about all the tearjerkers. But there's still two more memory chapters, right? Stay tuned for the next installment! (And if you're really nice, I might upload the next piece earlier than scheduled!)
