The moonlight shone through the pale cotton drapes in soft thin rays, and the glow landed across the deep oak dresser you stood in front of. The mirror balanced in the middle, reflected the beams of light, letting the moon dance against the walls like a kaleidoscope. But the twinkle coming from your left hand grasped your attention better than any light show against the plain painted walls ever could. For it not only drew your eyes but your heart as well.
Feeling your knees begin to bend slowly, you take a seat in the chair beside the small table. And looking down at your left hand, the glittering band around your ring finger felt heavy. The small but real diamond in the center of the gold band, looked like something out of a fairytale as the moonlight made it shimmer. But despite its beauty, it made your heart ache for the person who had slipped it onto your finger so many years ago.
There was a moment this morning, and every morning it had seemed like lately, that a part of you began pondering the idea of taking it off. For the band that once graced your finger with a light and magical sensation, now burned like an brand wrapped around your flesh.
Maybe it was the memories wrapped into that small golden band that made it sting so harshly or perhaps it was the realization of your reality. The reality that you were most likely never going to see the person who gifted it to you again.
Whatever the real reason behind the burn, you felt weighed down by the tiny piece of jewelry. And no matter how much you wished you could wear it for the rest of time, you questioned if the pain was worth it.
"Momma?" A soft knock at your open bedroom door makes your head snap up, your eyes ripped away from the glittering stone on your finger.
"What's wrong baby? Why aren't you in bed?" You ask softly, as you watch your young daughter shuffle into your room.
Her tanned skin was covered by that of loose light pink pajamas, and her small hands clutched tightly to the stuffed animal she carried protectively in her arms. It was the first stuffed animal she revived as a baby, one her father had picked all by himself just for her. And as if she could feel the sentiment of that day, she carried that stuffed dog everywhere.
"The new people," She murmured softly as she walked closer towards you. Sleep trailed in her voice but it mixed with the familiar accent she had begun to grow into.
"What about them honey?" You ask, as she met you by your dresser.
"I think one of 'em's lost momma." She tells you and her small voice still made your heart melt, even as her words struck you with uncertainty.
"Why do you say that?"
"Cause one of 'em is outside, and he don't look like he knows where he's goin." Sometimes her voice and the way she spoke reminded you a little too much of her father, as the sting of his memory flashed in your head at her accent. But recovering quickly, you send your daughter a warm smile.
"I'll go see, if you go on back to your room. Alright?"
She nodded her head and you watched her toddle off towards her own bedroom as you walked hesitantly down the staircase.
The house was quiet at night, unlike the places you had called home for in the past. It didn't echo with the calls of nature or shake with the rustling of trees. You didn't have to sleep with one eye open, on guard for the dead. And although it was unnerving in the very beginning, Alexandria was your home now.
And today, as news swept the community of Aaron's find, you heard the slight hesitance. You could feel it as many gathered to meet the new comers, those who had been out in the wild for far too long. But to you, all you saw was an offering of sanctuary to those who needed it most.
