Sisters/It is an ever fixed storm.
This is the story of Melanie Hamilton and everything she held dear.
Written in an over sentimental mood.
Melanie Hamilton stood at the end of her bed watching the setting sun reflect on her bed blanket, it was something she had done for many years ever since she had first noticed the poetry of sunlight, it had become somewhat of a ritual. But today was special; maybe the last time she would set the same innocent eyes on the beautiful site that had filled a lot of her young life. The sun would rise the next morning and she with her brother Charles Hamilton, would leave her life in Atlanta behind, who knew for how long. As the light dimmed Melanie turned away from the bed and walked to the window to watch the setting sun creep behind the horizon. She sighed looking out towards it and wondered what lay ahead of her in Clayton County and thoughts of her cousin Ashley filled her head. Melanie could only remember her cousin vaguely. He would use to pull her hair and run-away when she would turn around to see who the culprit was. Lost in her thoughts Melanie failed to hear the first bang that shook the house, but when a second came, Melanie was stood up alert and listened again to see if another would come. 2 minutes later that second came and Melanie could trace the thuds too her brother's room. Somewhat curious as to what her brother could possibly be doing, Melanie tiptoed to the door of her brother's room. As she opened the door, another thud came and Melanie's eyes came to rest on the site of her brother smothering a pillow on the floor. At first she gasped with shock, but then giggled remembering that all her brother's thoughts had rested upon these last couple of weeks was "licking those damn Yankee's." Charles got to his feet in haste and stepped in front of the pillow in a feeble attempt to conceal the truth from his little sister. But noticing her amusement at the situation relaxed and grinned. Melanie stifled her laughter and in mock astonishment exclaimed, "And how old are you Mr Hamilton?" At this they collapsed with laughter.
That evening the two Kin and their Aunt Pitty Pat sat at the small dinning room table that could just fit four. Aunt Pitty, spoke of trivialities such some Atlanta Belle's new beau or the how in her day she had been quite a catch. Melanie's mind drifted from the conversation at hand to a fairyland, Twelve Oaks. Her thoughts had nagged away at her and she had become more and more nervous. She felt a hand rest upon hers and she looked up to see her brother's eyes full of concern. She smiled in thanks for his worry, and gave a slight smile to let him know that he needn't be concerned for her.
Charles Hamilton had always been extremely fond of his sister and loved her dearly. Although 2 years older than Melanie she was the closest thing he had to a mother. Her sweetness and generosity had been apparent from a very early age. Loosing her was the last thing that he wanted, whether it were to the boy next door or a beloved cousin. He too remembered his time at Twelve Oaks, Ashley had been the centre of his world then and still was in away although the idea of war and victory for the south was afloat more often. He and His cousin Wilkes had been partners in crime in those days. Melanie and India would sit near the willow tree not too far from the house with there dolls and would attempt to have a civilized tea party, would be the victims of endless plat pulling silly jokes. Honey would waddle around trying to keep up with the two boys giggling and making funny noises. Once Ashley had taken one of India's dolls and he and Charles had made silly voices and they had all laughed.
Charles looked back on those years with a fond wistful look. He'd missed his cousin greatly in those long years they'd been apart. However those same years had watched Melanie Hamilton turn from the mousy pigtailed little girl she'd once been into the epitome of woman hood. He would indeed miss his sister greatly but he could think of no one better to look after her.
Melanie confused with her own thoughts decided to retire early this evening and after bidding her Aunt and brother goodnight, she found herself alone in the quiet of her bedroom again. She wandered aimlessly around the small bedroom picking up random objects as she went and turning them over in her hands, until her hand came to rest on what it had subconsciously been looking for. It had come to rest upon a small leather bound book. She picked it up and turned it over in her hand so she could look at the front of the volume, the letter M sewn in with a child's unsteady hand. She slid the pressed for-get-me-not that India had given her on the last day of their last visit and laid it on her dressing table. She opened the small book, and some loose pages slid to the floor. Melanie glanced at them and decided that she would pick them up later. She flicked through the childish writings that half the small book contained when her eyes eventually came to rest on her familiar lines . she whispered the first line to herself, "Let me not to the marriage of true minds." For the rest of the evening her thoughts rested on the inconsistent words of the Bard and the soft rolling cotton fields of Twelve Oaks, until sleep overcame her and she fell asleep on the window seat.
To be continued.
Sal
Melanie Hamilton stood at the end of her bed watching the setting sun reflect on her bed blanket, it was something she had done for many years ever since she had first noticed the poetry of sunlight, it had become somewhat of a ritual. But today was special; maybe the last time she would set the same innocent eyes on the beautiful site that had filled a lot of her young life. The sun would rise the next morning and she with her brother Charles Hamilton, would leave her life in Atlanta behind, who knew for how long. As the light dimmed Melanie turned away from the bed and walked to the window to watch the setting sun creep behind the horizon. She sighed looking out towards it and wondered what lay ahead of her in Clayton County and thoughts of her cousin Ashley filled her head. Melanie could only remember her cousin vaguely. He would use to pull her hair and run-away when she would turn around to see who the culprit was. Lost in her thoughts Melanie failed to hear the first bang that shook the house, but when a second came, Melanie was stood up alert and listened again to see if another would come. 2 minutes later that second came and Melanie could trace the thuds too her brother's room. Somewhat curious as to what her brother could possibly be doing, Melanie tiptoed to the door of her brother's room. As she opened the door, another thud came and Melanie's eyes came to rest on the site of her brother smothering a pillow on the floor. At first she gasped with shock, but then giggled remembering that all her brother's thoughts had rested upon these last couple of weeks was "licking those damn Yankee's." Charles got to his feet in haste and stepped in front of the pillow in a feeble attempt to conceal the truth from his little sister. But noticing her amusement at the situation relaxed and grinned. Melanie stifled her laughter and in mock astonishment exclaimed, "And how old are you Mr Hamilton?" At this they collapsed with laughter.
That evening the two Kin and their Aunt Pitty Pat sat at the small dinning room table that could just fit four. Aunt Pitty, spoke of trivialities such some Atlanta Belle's new beau or the how in her day she had been quite a catch. Melanie's mind drifted from the conversation at hand to a fairyland, Twelve Oaks. Her thoughts had nagged away at her and she had become more and more nervous. She felt a hand rest upon hers and she looked up to see her brother's eyes full of concern. She smiled in thanks for his worry, and gave a slight smile to let him know that he needn't be concerned for her.
Charles Hamilton had always been extremely fond of his sister and loved her dearly. Although 2 years older than Melanie she was the closest thing he had to a mother. Her sweetness and generosity had been apparent from a very early age. Loosing her was the last thing that he wanted, whether it were to the boy next door or a beloved cousin. He too remembered his time at Twelve Oaks, Ashley had been the centre of his world then and still was in away although the idea of war and victory for the south was afloat more often. He and His cousin Wilkes had been partners in crime in those days. Melanie and India would sit near the willow tree not too far from the house with there dolls and would attempt to have a civilized tea party, would be the victims of endless plat pulling silly jokes. Honey would waddle around trying to keep up with the two boys giggling and making funny noises. Once Ashley had taken one of India's dolls and he and Charles had made silly voices and they had all laughed.
Charles looked back on those years with a fond wistful look. He'd missed his cousin greatly in those long years they'd been apart. However those same years had watched Melanie Hamilton turn from the mousy pigtailed little girl she'd once been into the epitome of woman hood. He would indeed miss his sister greatly but he could think of no one better to look after her.
Melanie confused with her own thoughts decided to retire early this evening and after bidding her Aunt and brother goodnight, she found herself alone in the quiet of her bedroom again. She wandered aimlessly around the small bedroom picking up random objects as she went and turning them over in her hands, until her hand came to rest on what it had subconsciously been looking for. It had come to rest upon a small leather bound book. She picked it up and turned it over in her hand so she could look at the front of the volume, the letter M sewn in with a child's unsteady hand. She slid the pressed for-get-me-not that India had given her on the last day of their last visit and laid it on her dressing table. She opened the small book, and some loose pages slid to the floor. Melanie glanced at them and decided that she would pick them up later. She flicked through the childish writings that half the small book contained when her eyes eventually came to rest on her familiar lines . she whispered the first line to herself, "Let me not to the marriage of true minds." For the rest of the evening her thoughts rested on the inconsistent words of the Bard and the soft rolling cotton fields of Twelve Oaks, until sleep overcame her and she fell asleep on the window seat.
To be continued.
Sal