Sometimes...
I told myself that everything would be alright...
Even in the worse of the hardest times...
My name is Elizabeth, daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Pendleton. I was meant to lead a life full of opportunities, but I just reject it. I was just a reckless mare, wishing to go away from the quiet life of mine to cross throught such distant hills and meadows. Ever since that day I left home, I thought for myself I would lead my life on my own; well, until the day I met a wanderer from a faraway land.
His name...
Jonathan, son Mr. and Mrs. Brisby.
Every idea I once had about who could be that gentleman was an opiate, or rather, an abstraction of who he was. Jonathan and I shared of the same 'led a life on the run' thought, always moving from one place to another, never staying any place for too long, like the flow of the stream. From an acquaintance to a friend of mine, I was too young and shy to understand what he felt for me, and what did I felt for him either. But now that I'm older, I realized what we both felt for each other. It was no ordinary love, or anything similar, but I've been fooled to think this way for all this time...
Until now.
"..."
It was something bigger than love itself. And for this same 'something', Jonathan was willing to offered up his body to the grave, dissapear like the ashes blew by the wind, like many of us for the same finality. It took me some time to realize what was this something who took Mr. Brisby away from this world we both shared, and why I had to lead my life on my own since the day he left me and went away. Within time, he won my trust, and so I did of his. Thought he never told the secret of his for me, as his last postmortem memento, before the winter season approached, I received the last gift of his. A piece of red cloth, warm as the lost long touch of his.
"...other..."
I thought this was Jonathan's last memento, his intention left was to say me 'I won't come back, so accept this in return', but once again, how I was fooled. Now I comprehend for what Jonathan fought for... This something that took his life away from this world... Jonathan once told me about humans, and where they live, throught concrete, woods, sand, some of them even living above the sea, in order to secure their safety. Their heritage. How long it took for me to open those eyes of mine and see the truth, there, next to me.
''...mother... ''
Here she comes. There it is; Little Theresa, she's once again hanging on my feet. Look those blue iris on her eyes glancing at me... Adorable, isn't it? At the same day I received that red herring of Jonathan's, she was already able to walk. I still remember her first word: 'red'. Theresa kinda resembles me, and him. Timothy, the youngest one, is there, lying on the crib upstairs. On another look, he resembles more Jonathan than me, alike Martin, the middle child. And there's Auntie Shrew. She ain't aunt of anyone by blood, but she does her work of taking care of when I'm away, collecting the breakfast, lunch and dinner for tomorrow. Sometimes, Martin shouts on her presence, but I know it's not his fault. He has no self control, no way to stop those words to came out of that mouth, but I know he's able to contain it sometimes, for our relief. I know he's truly a descendant of Jonathan, like his siblings, because of the will he struggles to maintain below the reasoning.
Jonathan...
They'll someday understand, it's not too important now. Mr. Brisby...
Yet, sometimes, I still miss you...
Don't worry. Your legacy may be secured...
For now.
"Mother?"
"Yes, Theresa?"
"I can't sleep... mother..."
"You can't sleep?"
"Yes. Mother, can you sing me a lullaby?"
"Yes, Theresa. Now sing with me..."
Rain, rain, rain
Felt down again
Yesterday, yesterday
Rain, rain, rain
Felt down today
The clouds, once again
Were gray, as yesterday