Angel of Mercy

Chapter 11

Dedicated to fireflies7 and her amazing book, even though I have no idea where it's going, that makes it way more fun to read!  :)

"Right, so there are lots of activities to choose from, I do ballet and run a cooking club at the closest primary school but you could do hip hop, martial arts, nursing, gardening, mechanical engineering, quantum physics. You just need to pick two from the list"  I practically sang this at Mary, honestly I was surprised that no woodland creature came running out the forest.

Mary scowled at me, eyebrow furrowed, bottom lip pushed out giving the poor piece of paper in front of her a sullen look. She actually bore an uncanny resemblance to a disgruntled five year old. She mumbled something uncomplimentary about me,

" Oh what a lovely thing to say! I've always had the utmost  respect for dogs, I must be off now. Can't be late for work on my first day back" I trilled a goodbye and walked out the (much cleaner) house. 

My father waved goodbye from the window,

I walked down the road, allowing my thought to wonder, What would Mary do? She was required to do at least two activities per week and have a job, but what job could she do? Children almost always followed a parent , mother to daughter, father to son. Sometimes children did choose to do some thing else but it was rare and frowned upon.

Leaves floated in the wind, seeming to reflect my disordered mind as I thought of countless solutions to Mary's plight, my ideas getting steadily more unfeasible as time went on. I almost sighed, but stopped myself with furtive look at the people close by, praying that they hadn't seen my momentary lapse in control of my emotions.

I quickened my pace, following the familiar path down to the prison, the impeccably ordered flower beds hemming me in, allowing no room for deviation in my route. I found myself thinking about the freedom  I had enjoyed with the rebels, the lack of order. I had imposed my own timetable, but if I slept in and was ten minutes late with breakfast no one commented, there were no shocked looks or raised eyebrows. No one told me to 'buck up' or 'get my act together'.  Even the clouds here were in uniform white bundles, as though they had been measured before allowed in to the area.

I shook my head, determined to get rid of such thoughts. I was happy here, safe here. What did freedom matter when I had every thing I needed to survive? 

I came to the old brick prison, the fresh coat of paint masking the age of the building and knocked on the grey door. It silently swung open  revealing  Head Angel, who usered me in, and escorting me to my station. For the rest of the day I walked down the long grey halls, dispensing smiles and glasses water where needed, and answering the carefully worded questions of co-workers about the weather or other bland topics.  I found myself thinking about Mary's terror the day before, how she saw us a murders. I knew this wasn't true, I did, but it still played in my mind throughout the day, making it all the harder to project perfect me to the world, I couldn't turn off the part of me that felt because I was trying to deal with an entirely new emotion....uncertainty.

Julia met me at the end of the day and embraced me in a tight hug, murmuring soft kind words of support. She was the only person to acknowledge my absence, to show pity, sympathy.

To show love.

We walked home, questioning each other, me hiding laughter and smiles, but she didn't.  She wore them as proudly as others wore the uniforms that marked their job, as proudly as she wore her cropped hair and divided skirts. She was proud to stand out and be her own person even if that meant that people avoided her dress shop or crossed the road to avoid this obviously insane woman who laughed in the street.

Sorry for the late update but you got a real taste of Julia in that chapter! The picture is of her dress :)
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