𝐎𝐇 𝐎𝐏𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐀 ; lord tewkesbury

XIX.

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There was something about the light that shined through the window, coating the walls and every living thing that lay in its path. It was aureate, shimmering amongst the statues as if it took precedence over them, to somehow prove that it was here before they were ever a thought in someone's mind.

Despite the golden gem that was bestowed upon the land, the home remained cold, almost callous, without an ounce of solace to its name. Perhaps that's what he felt all along, that's why he left in the first place all those years ago. You can only tread water so long until your body eventually gives out.

I waited, still, watching everything play out in front of my eyes, and for the first time I felt oblivious. Even after all this time my ignorance got the best of me, and I couldn't decide how to feel around this area, where life was sucked away from the Earth. And I thought about me, and I thought about him, and how I never gathered enough courage so there could be an us.

Agony and anguish became common words that flew across my mind, and what reason did I have exactly? I couldn't help but sabotage every chance that was handed to me, and the curse continued to hold true even as I became an adult.

When my father announced his wife bore a child, it was one of the first time's I felt like I could actually be apart of something. The doe-eyed, fair skinned, bairn who could barely balance on her two stubby feet made me feel limpid.

Her life would be much more grand than mine ever was, and not in a matter of wealth or stability, but in the fact that she could always find who she was. And I would always be there to help her when she became lost, even though I was still seeking for myself.

But for the time being she was innocent, pure and joyful, the only thing she was afraid of was the night's storms that would wake her from her slumber. Meeting her made me reminiscent of the time where I was once innocent, if I ever was at all, because being born in the wake of grief leaves no one sinless.

While I was away, I met a family called the Addingtons. It consisted of a mother, her five young children, and her husband who was off in the Army that I never had the chance of meeting. They were poor, it was apparent as soon as I saw their cottage on the bend of the hill.

During the winter a sickness fell on the house, taking every single one of the children under its hold, collectively targeting each one. Playing a game of Russian Roulette with children being the main victims. The older ones fell ill but ended up making it through the night, but the youngest children suffered.

I learned quickly about scarlet fever, how it spread between children at the speed of light. It was in that house under the apprentice of Dr. Browning that made me realize that all I wanted to do was help people. When we ended up leaving each child had recovered, even the baby who wasn't given much hope in the beginning. But each one of them lived, and I had something to do with it.

Traveling to the Tewksbury's estate was mostly helping Caterina's sanity, ever since I arrived home she couldn't go a moment without mentioning Tewksbury. It was either him or Enola, and believe me, I preferred to hear about Enola way more than my past tragedy.

The door opened, Caterina was next to my side, her pinky locked within mine as we took in the view in front of us. There the boy stood, his eyes wide, I could see him stiffen. It almost wasn't real, him I mean, like it was only some vision that I've had in the past.

For what felt like forever no one moved – or even breathed for that matter. Only I could watch him, how he looked the exact same as when I last saw him, except he looked more despairing now than when I left.