The Weeping Witch

Chapter: Fourteen

I couldn't feel sorry for myself any longer. What had happened between Thomas and I had happened, there was not a thing I -nor any other could do about what had occurred. Thomas had his mind made up. The fates seem to agree, therefore, it is over. I would now have to accept it and move on. Grandmother taught me to be strong, never relying on anyone. It was my decision whether or not I would allow myself to move on, or to wallow in self-pity. And that, is something I will not do. For those who cloud their minds with self-pity and sorrow are ones who will forever live in utter darkness. In the meantime, aye, I would be hurting. However, I would overcome the hurt and in the future it would no longer plague my mind. I would be alright. Despite all that, the thought of never finding love still lingered in my head. I tried to rid myself of the thought, yet, I could not seem to shake it. I was inevitably stuck with it.

   I had tossed and turned all through the night, my mind swimming with anything and everything it could conjure up. Because of the restless sleep, I was now owning up to the consequences. My whole body ached from the lack of sleep. My eyes were swollen from being wide-eyed from dusk till dawn. Yet, alas, there was no lingering in bed to catch up on the rest I had lost. There were things to be done, and remaining in bed was not one of them. Mother would be calling me, or sending Alice to fetch me if I was not arriving downstairs here shortly. So, I quickly gathered any amount of energy I had, and pushed myself out of bed. After a splash of cold water hit my face, I was more awake. Throughout the Spring seasons, the afternoons were always pleasantly warm, however, the mornings were still a bit chilly. And now, when I slipped my nightgown off, the chill hit my body as soon as the gown fell into a puddle around my ankles. Goosebumps covered my skin, sending a shiver up my spine. Moving as quickly as possible, I yanked my tattered, faded dark, blue dress over my head. After I pulled my stockings up to my knees, I felt warmth finally travel through my cold body. I shuttered at the sensation while I slipped my feet into the weathered boots I've worn every day since my feet stopped growing. Then, along came the routine I always hated: putting on my cap. It wasn't so much that I hated wearing it. It was the fact that my unruly curly hair had trouble fitting into the damned thing! As the day progressed it took little to nothing for my hair to free itself from it cover. There were several occurrences where I did not notice, which caused people to gawk and ultimately run their mouths. So naturally, my Father would earn a visit from some of the higher ups in church. It wasn't a pleasant evening at supper time for me. There was a couple times Mother tried to reason, saying that it wasn't my fault, that my hair had a mind of its own. Nevertheless, it failed to work as an excuse. If I were to be completely honest, I quite enjoy to watch many of the holier men bother themselves over such a mundane thing such as hair. At the end of the day, it was something for me to smile about.

   My head jerked towards the door when I heard a shuffle outside it. Quickly shoving a loose curl beneath my cap, I jumped at the door and swung it open. Sure enough, there stood Alice. She then opened her mouth to say something after being startled by my sudden opening the door.

   "I know, I know." I interrupted before she could say anything. "Mother wants me downstairs." I shoved past her.

   I found Mother at her usual stance by the hearth. I reached for the water bucket to perform my usual task of fetching water from the well to boil for the laundry and for cleaning other things. But the moment Mother heard my footsteps, she whirled around.

   "Good morning, Mother." I said quickly, noticing that her face was radiating a sort of disappointment and anger. Yet, I thought it may be far too early for her to have heard anything from the village if I had done something displeasing. Mother rose to her feet and brushed off the ash from her blackened apron.

   "Good morning, Millicent." She took a few steps towards me. "Now, your Father was at the Millers home yesterday -while, I might add you were supposedly helping Rose's mother. Father, however, says he never say you anywhere near their house. Nor Rose. I would appreciate an explanation as to why you were not where you told me you would be."