Disclaimer: I do not own the characters that are part of Nathaniel Hawthorne's Scarlet Letter, and nomoney is being made from this. Obviously.
I took a deep breath as I stared at the blank pages before me.
The candles on the desk created enough light for me to see by, but the shadows of the room and my past danced around me. I twirled the feather end of my quill, watching the myriad of colors sparkle in the light as I thought of where to begin.
"Pearl, honey," my husband Dominic called softly, sticking his head in the doorway of the study. "You ready for bed? All the children are asleep."
I looked toward the man I loved and back to the empty pages in front of me. "Thank you Darling, but I'm going to work on this just a while longer."
"Okay, night," Dominic said but not before giving me a small kiss on the cheek and retreating to the bedroom. I decided I wasn't going to dwell on this any longer. I would just write, and I did. I wrote about everything. I first wrote about my fascination with my mother's scarlet letter. Only now do I realize how much that must have tortured her. I remembered never having any friends except the ones in my head. What a burden I must have been running off with the fairies and elves all the time. Sometimes I would pretend I had my own scarlet letter upon my bosom. My obsession seems ridiculous to me today, but what child doesn't imagine when they are young to be like their mother or their father.
People always told me I never had an earthly father, but my mother and I knew differently. I can't help but feel I always knew who he was even when I was but a small girl. Call it a child's instinct if you will. I had always been drawn to him. The day at the Governor's mansion, the night the giant A appeared in the sky, the day in the forest, and of course the day he subtly revealed his sin to the world and passed away.
By now I had pages and pages filled, and I lost all track of things around me. I wasn't even aware of Dominic bringing me a steaming cup of coffee, or the fact that he had fallen asleep on the couch behind me. I just kept on writing about the last memory I had of my earthly father alive.
I can't say I was completely devastated. I know I was a perceptive child, but really I never knew my father. It wasn't till years later that it hit me on exactly what I had lost and truly missed out on. However, I felt worse for my mother. She had been so close to being free of that blasted letter and being with the man she loved, but it had never happened. How she managed to carry on I didn't know, and I still don't.
I put the quill down and drew in a long breath. I took a sip of the stone cold coffee as I surveyed my hour's worth of work. "Oh!" I said in surprise when I realized I had never gotten up to ever get coffee. I turned in my chair to stretch my stiff back and neck. I tiny smile crept to my lips when I saw Dominic sprawled in an awkward position on the couch that was half his size. If I had lost Dominic prematurely as my mother had lost Arthur, I don't think I would have been able to live my life with as much joy as my mother had continued to live hers. I guess our circumstances were a bit different though. I tiptoed silently to Dominic's side and laid a gentle kiss on his cheek. His eyes fluttered open, and when he saw me, he grinned.
"You all finished?" He asked me quietly. I nodded. "Your mother would be proud of you for writing your story. Her story in a way as well."
"She would, wouldn't she?" I sighed while instinctively looking up. "My father would be too."
"Come on," Dominic smiled and took my hand. "Let's get some sleep."