A/N: Aha! I made it! A one-shot about Mary (briefly mentioned in Breaking Dawn). Written when listening to Satellite Heart by Anya Marina. Such a good song! I highly recommend listening to it.
-
I stared up at the black sky, dotted with sparkling stars. No moon was to be seen which made the night fairly dark. There was only a small amount of relief from the overwhelming color--millions of jewels bursting with friendly light.
But the night was cold, and I shivered into my cloak. I must not let myself get distracted further. Collecting myself, I proceeded on along the cobbled streets, only once stopping to allow a scurrying cat past. Its yellow orbs looked back at me curiously; by then I was long gone.
My fingers were clenched around the letter rather tightly, frozen and numb. Its contents remained unknown to me. I had to keep myself from reading it--I was rather curious. Luckily for me, I was a disciplined girl, used to obeying orders.
My breath hung in the air, visible only now in the bitter weather. Suddenly, a sweet melody started playing from the house to my left. Cautiously, I walked over to the open window, half-hiding my body behind the wall.
The scene before me was beautiful. A Christmas tree was perfectly decorated in shiny balls and tinsel. A woman on a piano gracefully weaved her fingers, her eyes staring at the music before her. By the tree, her mother sat knitting in a red armchair, while a man who appeared to be her father sat opposite to her, reading the newspaper. It was truly a perfect picture.
Then the man caught my eye sternly. I felt my cheeks flush red, and made no time in hurrying along again. I scolded myself. So much for refusing to get sidetracked, I scoffed.
My dark hair hung around me like a curtain, viewing me from sight. I wondered what people would think of me? It was past curfew, but then again, Mother had insisted I take this letter to her dear friend Mrs. Edith Williams, who lived on the other side of town. It was already a far way away from our cozy little house, why make the journey even more unpleasant? Perhaps I thought that if I procrastinated, then I wouldn't have to do it. I looked down in my hand. No, the annoying piece of paper was still there. For the umpteenth time, I walked at a brisk pace towards my destination.
Finally! The glow of candles in the windowsill greeted me--a signature sign of Mrs. Williams. She was a widow, and preferred the light and warmth that naturally came with the simple wax and wicks. The cold nipped my cheeks as I knocked at the door. "Mrs. Williams, it's me, Mary!"
A petite old lady greeted the door. "Ah, Mary, how nice it is to see you. Come in, come in!" she ushered me, closing the door. Her small home was filled with the scent of fresh pine and vanilla. I breathed in the scent, so different from the icy air I had inhaled so much of on the way. I sat down on a plump, round sofa which I sank into.
Without talking, I handed her the letter. Her watery eyes scanned it once with a little frown. When she saw I was carefully watching and assessing her reaction, she changed it without further ado. "So your mother has fallen ill?" She made a disapproving sound in the back of her throat. "Honestly, the poor thing pushes herself too hard. Well, give her my best, and remind her about the tea party on Sunday!" Just as she had greeted me, she swept me out the door. My eyebrows knitted together.
I wished that I had read the letter now. What had made her whisk me out the door like that? Usually my mother's friends were very hospitable.
In all the confusion, something more troubling rose to the surface.
I hadn't known Mother was sick.