Nightingale

Chapter 28

Fable was scurrying through the night like an injured mouse. She had nowhere to turn but her own home. It was the only safe place now. The trees had become a constant source of anxiety; their black branches looming over her, concealing silent predators. Even as a human, she felt weak and vulnerable. The world knew she was but a small bird with damaged wings – anything could destroy her, and she would have no fight left in her to defend herself. Nature could sense the life force spilling out of her; its horde of marauding eyes stalking her through the darkness. She felt a special kind of fear she had not in a very long time. It was like being a child who is afraid of the dark. She needed to get home as fast as she could, before she descended into madness and let the forest consume her...

Fable had never felt so relieved in all her life as she approached the gate to her dishevelled front yard. The grass was stirring in anticipation; she admired its smooth texture and verdant aroma, coming to the conclusion that it would indeed be a shame to mow it down and sever those perfect blades – each one fighting its own battle for the attention of its golden master. Nobody has the right to a life, thought Fable. "You don't have me yet, Old Mother Faun" she sighed to herself. One more night. One last day. She would spend it with her mother and aunt – the only two people in the universe who truly mattered to her now. Mr Hudson was irrelevant. He had let her down completely. She supposed it wasn't really his fault, but nonetheless, she wished he would have given her a real answer. She just knew he wasn't admitting to something. Somehow, his eyes were betraying his words, rendering them empty and meaningless. It was like he had some preconceived notion of how he might respond to allegations of his emotional misconduct towards her – it was so disingenuous. Fable rolled her eyes at his stupidity. She was no figurative muse of his. He just liked her. Plain and simple. If only he was man enough to admit it, she would not be in this lousy predicament.

With two heavy-handed knocks on the door, Fable heard footsteps and voices sounding from the inside. Her mother eventually opened the door and Fable began to cry as she saw the look of shock on her mother's face. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" she bawled, as her mother ushered her inside.

"Vanessa! Come, quickly! Look at our girl, something's happened to her and she's all bandaged up!" yelled her mother.

Vanessa came hurrying to the door.

"What has happened to you, sweetie?" gasped Vanessa. "Have you been in an accident? Did you go to the hospital?"

"No, no" wept Fable, "It's something else. It's a long story, and I need to tell you everything I've been hiding."

Fable saw her aunt shoot a look at her mother.

"Let's take you to bed first. Vanessa will make you a hot coco."

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Fable thanked her mother as she tucked her into bed, making sure her head was positioned comfortably on the plumped up pillow. The bed felt snug, as if the sheets and duvet were tightly embracing her. She felt loved and cared for. It made her feel guilty. To think she had scorned her family for so long, taking them for granted. She was a terrible daughter.

Vanessa slowly entered the room. She was taking care not to spill the large mug of hot chocolate; the swirl of cream floating, cloud-like, on the surface. Little, pink marshmallows were sprinkled over the top. It looked delicious. "Thank-you, auntie" smiled Fable, graciously receiving the hot drink.

"It's your favourite. Hazelnut flavouring" said Vanessa.

"You have always made the best hot chocolate!" complimented Fable.