Clusters of Crocus
Purple and gold
Blankets of pansies
The morning dawned wet and slushy. Grey light filtered through Rukia's previously thick curtains, made suddenly weak by the tragedy that struck the house, still as of yet unknown to its sole occupant. She sat up slowly, unconsciously delaying what would certainly be the most unpleasant news of her young life.
"Mother?" She called out.
There was no answer and the house sighed in response, pitying the poor soul.
"Father?" Rukia continued.
The house held its breath, suddenly too overcome to even spare Rukia some of its pity. Rukia began to crawl out of bed when she heard several heavy footsteps on the stair outside her room. They were definitely booted, and provoked in Rukia the singular memory she had of visiting an army demonstration. She pulled the blankets up over her knees and clutched her doll to her chest.
The footsteps just got louder and then they were at her door. A muffled cough was heard, as though the speaker had his hand over his mouth. Then the door handle cracked and a group of men in white uniforms strode in.
The first man seemed to not even see Rukia, his eyes already dulled to the pervasion of death. It was the second man who really noticed her and leapt back onto the toes of his companion with a yelp. The first man spun to reprimand him and in the course of the motion his eyes fell on Rukia, sitting upright and terrified in her crinkled bedsheets.
"My God," he murmured.
Major, there's a girl in here
Do you mean alive?
He approached her and raised a hand, almost as though he intended to discover tangible proof that she was not a figment of his imagination. She saw him coming and scooted towards the other side of the bed but the motion convinced him and he lowered his hand.
"Who are you, child?"
Rukia sat up straighter, and lifted her chin in what she hoped was an imperious manner.
"My name is Rukia Kuchiki. Who are you? Where are my mother and father?"
My name is Mary Lennox
Why has no one come for me?
Where's my Ayah?
I'm afraid there's no one left miss
But where are my mother and father
I'm sorry miss
The third man seemed on the verge of laughing then remembered whose blood had already decorated his hands and turned the shaking motion to a running of his hand through sandy hair. The first man, who was obviously in charge, turned back to Rukia, meeting her eyes straight and even reaching out to brush the tips of her fingers with his own.
"I am so very sorry Miss Kuchiki. We are from the army and have traveled to this house for a investigation of a supposed outbreak of cholera. I am afraid to say it was not as supposed as we had hoped."
Rukia's breath came in short gasps.
"How not-supposed was it?"
The captain lowered his eyes and firmly grasped both of Rukia's tiny hands. He decided to break the news as quickly as possible, hoping Rukia's young brain would take it better that way.
"The outbreak has thoroughly taken over this entire house."
Rukia's hands shook in the captain's so he gripped harder but the shaking spread to the rest of her body and she began to cry, small breaking sobs, with her little mouth hanging ajar and tears screaming down her checks. Her breaths shook in her chest. The captain moved to hug her but she curled in on herself, not expecting or wanting his comfort.
Can it be a dream?
Surely it does seem
Like a frightful dream
How can this be true?
Won't her mother come,
Come wake her up to play
Won't her father say
"Here's a rose for you."
Small shots of pain flew through her body, originating from her heart and pervading all other small extremities, only increasing her painful awareness of how very alive she was and how very dead everyone else seemed to have become.
It was all so unbelievable. That she would never again listen to the cheerful bleat of her Ayah's voice calling from the shadow in between the newly opened curtains, bidding her to wake.
Never again would she hear her mother's oh so girlish squeals as she burst into the room with her decorum left panting behind as she forewent it in favor of showing off a new toy to her only daughter.
Never again see her father's eyes almost disappear in the face of the power of his smile as he knelt to throw her over his shoulder and twirl around the gardens. The world just wouldn't allow it. It couldn't happen.
Her hands rushed up to her face and she dug her nails into her cheeks. The pain got so severe the captain had to pry them away. She let him, the pain much too internalized to be deepened by self injury.
After several moments she looked up the captain, the telltale signs of irreparable emotional damage already blunting her eyes.
"What will I do now?" She asked.
The old man looked painfully down at her, his brows creasing.
"Oh, child, I don't know. I simply don't know."
There's a girl who no one sees
There's a girl who's left alone
There's a heart that beats in silence
For the life she's never known
For the life she's never known
Author's note: This chapter has been quite late in the coming even though it wasn't all that long. I hope you are enjoying this story. Please R&R.