Letters to Marie

Chapter 12- Letter Seventeen and Eighteen

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1/5/2013

Marie's P.O.V.

The feeling of his lips on my cheek, his breath on my neck, his height, oh his height. My letter writer is taller than me which is a good thing although most people are, I like tall guys. Goodness, his voice it's not a London accent I haven't been many other places besides London and a few other places but I can't pick out just where this accent is from. A horn honking in the distance pushes me back to realize I’m standing outside in the middle of winter in only a towel holding the most recent letter. 

"Marie, what are you doing?" Rose's voice echoes through the streets from the door as I push her slightly back inside and into her room. If you don't talk to her when she wakes up in the night she won’t fully wake up and will go back to sleep rather quickly. I place her back in her bed and gently kiss her head before scurrying back to my bedroom my feet hitting the warm rug on my floor.

My eyes are getting a little heavy so my feet decide before my mind that I need to go get dressed, and then go to sleep. The tiny feet that hold up my body take me to my filled closet and over to the obsessively organized Pj's, scanning through what I wanted my eyes lock on my favorite dressing gown I own and slipping it over the messy bun placed strategically on top of my head so none of my hair would get wet while I was in the bath. My eyes get heavy as midnight rolls around and I jump into bed. 

1/6/2013

Fresh sheets rub over my soft legs and my body sinks into the mattress making my body go numb and letting my mind wander playing the past event time and time again until falling asleep. Before I knew it I was out like a light and sleeping in until noon. 

Why hasn't Rose woken yet? My mind thinks up bad things and soon I'm sprung up out of bed pulling at the hem of my night gown to make sure it's at appropriate length and run off to her room. Her room is still dark and she is still asleep her little eyes closed and her blanket cuddled up to her face but it's odd she has slept this long. Suddenly a loud dry cough comes from her throat, the cough continues then she quiets down. Step by step my feet quietly make their way over to her side and I place my right hand on her forehead to find that it's very warm. 

The only thing I can think to do is wake her up, so I pick her up in my arms gently and rock her back and forth until her little eyes pop open. Immediately she starts to wine and that's not like her at all so I take her to the bathroom and reach for the thermometer out of the medicine cabinet. 

"Rose sit here." I place her on the side of the bathtub and take the cap off the thermometer and push the stray hair away from Rose's face.

"Open up and you'll need to leave this in your mouth until it beeps okay?" She groans in return and nods her head a bit up and down as I take a seat next to her and pull her up onto my lap letting her head rest against my shoulder as the tip of the thermometer slips underneath her tongue and she closes her lips around it.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

Anxious fingers pull the thermometer from her lips and my eyes scan the numbers to see she has a fever of 39.4 degrees Celsius. Quickly I remember from shows I watched what to do at home to get her fever down so I take her into the kitchen to see if she will eat or drink first. 

"Here Rose drink this." I hand her, her favorite pink cup filled with cold water and she begins to sip on it as I pull an ice lollie from the freezer and cut the top of the wrapper off so she can eat it. Rose nibbles on the ice lollie until its half gone before making a gagging noise and vomiting it up back in the sink.