"Who the hell are you?"
Daisy turned around to face the little girl behind her. The girl looked up at her with blue eyes through her messy brown bangs, scrunching her nose up as she inspected daisy Mae.
The girl looked maybe 8 years old, tall for her age. She wasn't dressed like a typical little girl, and the mud already on her overalls suggested she didn't live like one either. Daisy looked, confused, down at the child, and was silent for a moment.
"I'm daisy Mae"
The girl looked closer at daisy
"Daisy Mae from where?"
"South Carolina"
The girls face shifted also into slight confusion now.
"Well....why're you here?"
Daisy smiled softly
"I wanted a change in scenery"
The little girl looked around her and then back at daisy, as if judging her tastes.
"Well I think you'd better probably leave. Nothin much EVER happens here"
"Oh, no worries, I like small towns. And who are you sweetheart"
"I'm scout finch, I'm 8" she proudly declared
"8? Why, you're gettin' big aren't you then?"
"Yes ma'am, I am." She smiled
Scout rubbed the toe of her shoe into the dirt.
"Do you have any kids I can play with?" She asked
Daisy frowned a bit and shook her head
"Aw, I'm sorry honey unfortunately...no, just me."
"Ain't you lonely?"
Daisy smiled, her smile holding a twinge of pain.
"I can be"
"Yea...." Said scout, burrowing the toe of her shoe deeper
"Me too"
"But-"
The girl began to talk, but was promptly cut off by Calpurnia calling her home for lunch.
"Scout! Come on, supper time!"
Scout hesitated, looking at daisy and then back towards her house. She opened her mouth to continue but decided she best not ignore calpurnias calling, and ran off.
-daisys pov-
I settled under a tree with my cross-stitching hoop and supplies, enjoying the cool shade it provided me. As I leaned back against the tree and began my stitching, I couldn't get the little girl out of my mind.
I loved kids, I knew that. She was a cutie, maybe it was just because I haven't seen a child in so long, but she was something special. Something told me that, that she was a little different, and I felt almost as if I wanted to protect that in a way.
I don't know, it all dosent make sense, I don't doubt it's because I'm not understanding something, I rarely do. But, I felt like I wanted to preserve that uniqueness I felt she had, before the world could take it away from her. Something about children, I thought, was so bittersweet.
They're so innocent, and so beautiful, but I get a knot in my throat, and a pang of nausea when I think of what might change for them.
I know I shouldn't compare anymore, and I'm sure it's stupid to apply my life experiences to children I don't know, but when I look at a sweet child, say, 4? I can't unsee my own self.
My father was a drunk, but how was I to know then, I had my mother, so he never played any part in my life. He didn't have to keep me alive, so he never really came around.
I know now that without a doubt he treated my mama awful, but again, how was I to know then what happened behind closed doors. So, I see a little child and think of me, so innocent, so happy.
And now I know what would become of that darling child. I can feel my chest tightening as I think these things, and my eyes begin to sting. She didn't deserve this.
Maybe, maybe I deserved this, but she didn't deserve to become me. She deserved to grow up, to grow up and be a real woman. A woman with a family, with knowledge. A beautiful, normal woman.
With children, a loving husband, a grandmother for her children, a home, and fond memories of her life. I would have never wished this upon a child.
And it breaks my heart to look at myself and think that I was once a child with not a care in the world, a child who could have been something great.
But I crushed those chances. I couldn't help but feel like somehow I had let my younger self down by turning out how I did. I know I can't fix the past, but it hurts to remember that child, and know all the pain she has to feel, and all the hurt she will forever have.
I can't change that, but I only wish I was able to tell her that I'm sorry.
YOU ARE READING
sweet tea. -tkam
Fanfictionshe was like sunshine for the south, softer than butter and sweeter than sweet tea. she was kindhearted and compassionate, a young woman whose heart was bigger than anything else, even sometimes bigger than her logic. but one thing she adored most a...
