A/N Thanks for all the feedback on this. Hope you like the next chapter.
And happy new year!! *grumbles* hope 2004 is better then 2003!
Chapter Four.
Annamaria noticed quickly the amnesty that existed between her parents. It was clear cut, and there for the simplest person to see. She hated the raised voices, her father shaking his hands, his fists. Her mother defending herself, and little Anna of course. So she escaped from the house that fateful Sunday morning.
She hung around with her friends, generally making a nuisance of themselves in the town, being shooed from the bakery where they stole some cakes. Annamaria bit into hers, but as she swallowed the cake, she stopped and watched the others eating hungrily.
"Mama says they are rioting in France 'cause they don't have enough bread. Imagine not having enough of the most simplest thing." She said. She was thoughtful for a twelve year old, and the others scorned her.
"Look Anna, France is a long way away, and we have our own problems 'ere. Why worry bout something that's ne'er gonna effect you?"
So Annamaria ate with the others, and put the starving people of France to the back of her mind. True, it didn't directly effect her, but it seemed to bother her mother. France was where Samara was, she had gone to finishing school there, and for months they had received no letters, or word of her. Harriet was scared that Samara had fallen victim to the blood thirsty mob.
She went back, and her parents were still arguing. She was about to troop up to her room, when the raised voices caught her ears, and she stopped to listen.
"And with an extra mouth to feed, no wonder we're struggling. . ." Tobias yelled.
"What do you mean an extra mouth? Annamaria has been here for twelve years, almost as long as me, you cannot call her an extra mouth!" Harriet screeched.
"She's just your bastard, not my daughter. I won't have nothing to do with her."
"You know what Tobias, I'm glad she isn't yours, I mean imagine growing up with a father like you!" Harriet said.
Tobias was the one who paid for her schooling, her food, her clothes, the one who supported her mother and gave them beds to sleep in, a roof to live under, but he was not her father. She had known that, Harriet had told her. She was a love child. She sighed, and left. She couldn't stand the shouting, the arguing all over her.
There was a crash, and her mother's bewitching scream, the sound of a hard fist against soft skin, the sound of fighting.
"You couldn't even give me my own child!" He yelled, as she carefully closed the front door behind her.
Tears were running down her face, and that afternoon she avoided the others.
Night began to fall on the tear stained girl, the moon was high in the dark evening sky, the stars were scattered, giving off their feeble light as they burned millions of miles away. She stared up at them wistfully, holding out her hand in an attempt to touch one. She could almost lose herself, something she had never managed, in the speckly distance. She sniffed, and pushed herself up from the ground, she'd have to go home, or there would be trouble.
She walked slowly, dragging her feet as they took her closer and closer, hardly managing to bear her weight. She got to the front door and pushed it open, stepping into the dimly lit hallway, then stopped and waited. She was waiting for Harriet's concerned 'where have you been?', or 'is that you Anna?'.
She heard neither, she was greeted by silence. "Mama?" She shouted to the silent house. She got no reply.
And now fear was setting in, she ran through the house, through every room, shouting for Harriet, as the tears ran down her face. And then into the study, she stopped dead, in absolute horror. Her father stood beside a doctor, wearing a black suit, both had grim expressions on their face.
"And this is my daughter, Annamaria."
"Ah, the poor child." The doctor walked from the room, he put his hand on her shoulder for a brief second, squeezed it comfortingly and left.
"What's going on?" Annamaria demanded. "Where's Mama?"
He half smiled at her, but dropped it at once. "Annamaria, your mother is dead."
How he could say it, so calmly, so unattached, she couldn't understand. It was like he was the doctor, and he was telling her, like he hadn't known her. She gasped, her world was collapsing. Harriet was the foundations of the earth, with her gone, it couldn't function, it couldn't work.
She shook her head violently. "NO! No, I don't believe you! I don't believe you! No, you can't take her away from me, you can't." She screamed through gritted angry teeth. She began pummelling him, with her soft fists. He grabbed her arms. "She's with the Lord now."
And now he was the reverend committing her body to the ground,. he was everyone but Tobias, everyone but her husband.
"What have you done with her? Where is she?"
He held firmly to her arms, so her constant struggling was futile. He grimaced. "She was dying, Anna. Dying, and she didn't tell us."
Annamaria shook her head. "No! NO!" She said, almost pleadingly. "Where is she?"
"She's upstairs, in the blue room."
Without another word, Annamaria struggled free, she raced up the stairs, and threw open the door.
Her mother was lying peacefully in the bed, her arms were cold to touch, and her face pale.
Annamaria shook her head, helplessly. She screamed as a hand touched her shoulder.
"She died of a morphine overdose, she killed herself."
If Annamaria had been hurting, that last remark was like a dagger in her heart. She choked back the anger and the pain.
"She didn't kill herself. . ." She spluttered. "I heard you. . .arguing. . .hitting her. . .you killed her. . .you killed her. . ." She cried, the tears flowing down her cheeks, blurring her vision. She kissed Harriet on the cheek. "She'd never leave me." She muttered to herself.
"Annamaria. . ."Tobias began. But stopped, without another word, he turned from the room, and shut the door on his dead wife.
Annamaria sobbed through the night, lying beside her mother in the death room.
Chapter Four.
Annamaria noticed quickly the amnesty that existed between her parents. It was clear cut, and there for the simplest person to see. She hated the raised voices, her father shaking his hands, his fists. Her mother defending herself, and little Anna of course. So she escaped from the house that fateful Sunday morning.
She hung around with her friends, generally making a nuisance of themselves in the town, being shooed from the bakery where they stole some cakes. Annamaria bit into hers, but as she swallowed the cake, she stopped and watched the others eating hungrily.
"Mama says they are rioting in France 'cause they don't have enough bread. Imagine not having enough of the most simplest thing." She said. She was thoughtful for a twelve year old, and the others scorned her.
"Look Anna, France is a long way away, and we have our own problems 'ere. Why worry bout something that's ne'er gonna effect you?"
So Annamaria ate with the others, and put the starving people of France to the back of her mind. True, it didn't directly effect her, but it seemed to bother her mother. France was where Samara was, she had gone to finishing school there, and for months they had received no letters, or word of her. Harriet was scared that Samara had fallen victim to the blood thirsty mob.
She went back, and her parents were still arguing. She was about to troop up to her room, when the raised voices caught her ears, and she stopped to listen.
"And with an extra mouth to feed, no wonder we're struggling. . ." Tobias yelled.
"What do you mean an extra mouth? Annamaria has been here for twelve years, almost as long as me, you cannot call her an extra mouth!" Harriet screeched.
"She's just your bastard, not my daughter. I won't have nothing to do with her."
"You know what Tobias, I'm glad she isn't yours, I mean imagine growing up with a father like you!" Harriet said.
Tobias was the one who paid for her schooling, her food, her clothes, the one who supported her mother and gave them beds to sleep in, a roof to live under, but he was not her father. She had known that, Harriet had told her. She was a love child. She sighed, and left. She couldn't stand the shouting, the arguing all over her.
There was a crash, and her mother's bewitching scream, the sound of a hard fist against soft skin, the sound of fighting.
"You couldn't even give me my own child!" He yelled, as she carefully closed the front door behind her.
Tears were running down her face, and that afternoon she avoided the others.
Night began to fall on the tear stained girl, the moon was high in the dark evening sky, the stars were scattered, giving off their feeble light as they burned millions of miles away. She stared up at them wistfully, holding out her hand in an attempt to touch one. She could almost lose herself, something she had never managed, in the speckly distance. She sniffed, and pushed herself up from the ground, she'd have to go home, or there would be trouble.
She walked slowly, dragging her feet as they took her closer and closer, hardly managing to bear her weight. She got to the front door and pushed it open, stepping into the dimly lit hallway, then stopped and waited. She was waiting for Harriet's concerned 'where have you been?', or 'is that you Anna?'.
She heard neither, she was greeted by silence. "Mama?" She shouted to the silent house. She got no reply.
And now fear was setting in, she ran through the house, through every room, shouting for Harriet, as the tears ran down her face. And then into the study, she stopped dead, in absolute horror. Her father stood beside a doctor, wearing a black suit, both had grim expressions on their face.
"And this is my daughter, Annamaria."
"Ah, the poor child." The doctor walked from the room, he put his hand on her shoulder for a brief second, squeezed it comfortingly and left.
"What's going on?" Annamaria demanded. "Where's Mama?"
He half smiled at her, but dropped it at once. "Annamaria, your mother is dead."
How he could say it, so calmly, so unattached, she couldn't understand. It was like he was the doctor, and he was telling her, like he hadn't known her. She gasped, her world was collapsing. Harriet was the foundations of the earth, with her gone, it couldn't function, it couldn't work.
She shook her head violently. "NO! No, I don't believe you! I don't believe you! No, you can't take her away from me, you can't." She screamed through gritted angry teeth. She began pummelling him, with her soft fists. He grabbed her arms. "She's with the Lord now."
And now he was the reverend committing her body to the ground,. he was everyone but Tobias, everyone but her husband.
"What have you done with her? Where is she?"
He held firmly to her arms, so her constant struggling was futile. He grimaced. "She was dying, Anna. Dying, and she didn't tell us."
Annamaria shook her head. "No! NO!" She said, almost pleadingly. "Where is she?"
"She's upstairs, in the blue room."
Without another word, Annamaria struggled free, she raced up the stairs, and threw open the door.
Her mother was lying peacefully in the bed, her arms were cold to touch, and her face pale.
Annamaria shook her head, helplessly. She screamed as a hand touched her shoulder.
"She died of a morphine overdose, she killed herself."
If Annamaria had been hurting, that last remark was like a dagger in her heart. She choked back the anger and the pain.
"She didn't kill herself. . ." She spluttered. "I heard you. . .arguing. . .hitting her. . .you killed her. . .you killed her. . ." She cried, the tears flowing down her cheeks, blurring her vision. She kissed Harriet on the cheek. "She'd never leave me." She muttered to herself.
"Annamaria. . ."Tobias began. But stopped, without another word, he turned from the room, and shut the door on his dead wife.
Annamaria sobbed through the night, lying beside her mother in the death room.