Origins- Sequel to "Nothing Personal"

Family Affairs

Bright golden rays slipped passed her curtains, seeping into Madison's room, almost touching the edge of her feet as the sun slowly rose over the orange hued horizon. She felt the warmth of the magnified rays on her face, prompting her to lift her eye lids, momentarily blinded by the sun's glare until her dark blue eyes could adjust to the new setting. Slowly she rose, throwing off the heavy covers off her scarcely covered body, unveiling bare legs and stretched tank top.

After a quick brush through of her hair with her fingers, she pulled her banes out of her face and behind her ear, avoiding the mirror across from her bed, eyes set upon her closet, but halfway across the room though her eyes caught a shift, a sliver of reflecting light that snagged her attention. She snapped towards the mirror where her reflection glared back at her with a haunting gaze. She swore she saw a piece of her mother almost covering her own glassy image, sharing the same waving, blackened hair and smooth, round face void of any gentleness Madison had recalled.

This isn't your mother, Madison reminded herself, steering her gaze away. That's you. That's all you.

Something compelled her to break out of the safe confinement of her room early that morning. Despite the strict orders from her (rather young and 'inexperienced,' but that was purely her speculation and personal not professional opinion) doctor, she made an effort to escape the safety of her warm room. Madison dressed warmly but modestly in jeans and a light grey cotton zip-up. Her disheveled hair was tied back into a large, airy bun and hidden by her large hood as she crept out into the doorway, passing by Tabitha's room quickly and hurried down the stairs like a ghost.

After a quick note claiming she was going to a walk, as the risk of running concerned her parents, she slipped through the back door rather than front door, passing through the fence gate almost immediately and into the side yard, treading over the neighbor's yard as she routed over to the sidewalk.

Lonesome and tired, Madison's pace was slow and casual as she passed the many grand houses of her block. Eventually the houses got smaller, as did the yards, and she found herself on a similar road from her childhood.

She peered down the street, faintly seeing the outline of the plot of land her old house rested upon. All she could see now was the small but steep incline of the hill the cut-out steps used to be on. The air was chilly and cool and she felt her own breath materialize in front of her before disappearing into the low but sturdy current. With a reassuring sigh, she stepped forward bravely, allowing her shoes to tap faintly on the concrete without being noticed by the sleeping occupants of Dartford Street.

She approached the property cautiously, ascending up the small grassy slope firmly, aware of the slippery morning dew lacing the grass –despite its dead appearance. She swallowed a sour mouthful of saliva nervously as she looked down upon the charred remains of wood that used to be the walls of her home. She couldn't believe it. She couldn't connect the thin, brittle stick under her foot used to be the bright blue black of wood that used to shape her house. It was a harsh reminder and bitter tears began to swell in her eyes as the picture in her mind was shattered by the crunch of smoldered wood under her foot. She walked forward into what she had thought had been the kitchen, at the very front of the house.

It was nothing but dirt and sot now, but she found little things scattered among the debris. Most of it had be either confiscated by police, water down by the occasional rain storm, or stolen by vandals. She could shards of glass from her mother's antique glass jars scattered around, somewhat melted, faded and dirtied. She reached down and scrubbed at the fragile material with a tender thumb, noticing the intricate blue spiral pattern running through the top. It reminded her of her mom's jam collection, compacted into so many glass china jars with so many colors and prints. Her kitchen was almost like a kaleidoscope with all the different glass wear Aubrey had collected over the years.