Love is in the Wind Pt. 1

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Monroe was glad when the weekend came around. She didn't have to be polite when she didn't want to or eat when her stomach disagreed. Her crying wasn't limited to a bathroom stall and her anger was dispensed in a timely fashion. Though her mother resided in the house for those two days, she never left her bedroom before one o'clock and was always in bed by seven. Monroe spent most of her time in the backyard, lying down and ripping up grass blades or sleeping by the fire pit. They were two ships passing in the night, only it was day and they saw each other. It was just easier to ignore.

On Sunday morning, Deborah knocked on Monroe's bedroom door before cracking it open. "Will you go today?" she would ask her daughter, who often slept with the covers covering her whole body head to toe.

Monroe would mumble out a semi-coherent 'no' and wish sleep would claim her once more, but wishes never really came to fruition did they? And what use were dreams when they all ended the same way?

He mother would softly shut the door, tired of being angry at her daughter for denying God, would shuffle down the stairs in her flats and then drive alone to that place with the big cross in the front.

Eventually, Monroe would tire of breathing in hot carbon dioxide and would leave her bed. She opted for a glass of water for breakfast, remembering how her father would make banana pancakes every Sunday morning before church. They'd maintained that tradition for as long as she was alive; it felt wrong to eat something else, so she ate nothing at all. She took the glass outside, sitting on her front steps.

The Boston air began to feel crisp, a cool, late September wind cracking her cheeks and fingertips in soft bouts. She shivered, but as the days grew on in this seasoned city, Monroe felt as though nothing quite understood her like the cold. It made her still with frozen blood and shivering limbs, leaving her to wonder if that was what the lifelessness of death felt like. Then a chilling breeze would slap her alert, reminding her that she was still alive, that her nerves still tingled and that death should not be dwelled upon--ever.

Coming to that conclusion, the curly-haired girl stood and padded her way back inside to the relative warmth of the Boston house. The winds grew heavier and more vicious, whistling by windows and causing the house to creak in erie ways. For a brief moment, Monroe wondered if her father was speaking to her, punishing her for the way she punished her mother, God, and herself. He lashed out on this house, wanting to reach her, shake her, tell her to eat some breakfast and go to church. She felt so conflicted. How could she want to respect her father's memory and recent passing but completely disregard it at the same time.

The notions left her head spinning and her feet pacing the downstairs tile for what felt like hours. The wind grew loud and urgent, pressing her, warning her that time was running out. But what was at the end? What happened when the timer reached its last second?

The creaking sounded out of control, and Monroe quite literally had to block her ears off from the noise. Was this it? Was she finally losing it? Just as she was about to voice her turmoil and scream for the din to end, the wind settled into a low whistle, the creaking stopped, and after a brief moment of silence, she heard the soft pitter-patter of rain.

***

Deborah Lancey walked through the front door at around one to find her daughter curled up asleep on the couch. Upon drifting closer, she heard Monroe's stomach cry pains of hunger that twisted Deborah's heart. Sitting on the arm of the chair, she watched her daughter sleep and made a wish.

Her husband had always tried getting Deborah to believe in those things--dreams and wishes--but she was never much of a dreamer--only religious. However, it was hard for her to ignore that dropping to her knees every Sunday without her daughter by her side wasn't manifesting the healing she constantly prayed for. So she finally made a wish. She wished to be granted the power to restore a person.

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⏰ Last updated: Jul 16, 2018 ⏰

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