Pain of the Past (a Preminger fanfiction)

=8=

Preminger's birthday felt more like a death sentence. He could feel it waiting just around the corner, condemning him as it drew closer. Still, no matter how hard he tried, he could not find a place to stay. Every place was either full or unfriendly.

"I mean, not even a single shelter!" He vented to the woman sitting in the corner, sewing up a pair of old pants. This was the same woman who had greeted him many years before upon his first arrival; Eliza, as he had come to know her.

Time had weathered her much since then. There were now streaks of grey in her curled hair and lines of exhaustion etched into her forehead, but she was still beautiful all the same in a very humble sort of way. Over the years, her kindness had been one of the few comforts of the orphanage that helped the young boy endure.

"I've scoured the highs and lows of this town and there is nothing to be found. Its just poverty everywhere I turn." Preminger let out a weary breath, leaning up against the wall and pressing a hand to his temple. He turned 18 tomorrow, but he felt much older.

"Believe me, you're preaching to the choir." Eliza chimed as she stabbed the worn fabric with thread. "I watched all 3 of my brothers fight the same battle that you' in now."

Preminger looked over at her, "And where did they end up?"

"One of them? Dead. 6 feet under by 19. He got messed up in the wrong crowd, hunger pushed him to thievery."

Preminger let out a bitter breath.

"The other wasn' much better off. They threw him in jail, told us he was caught evading taxes. Truth is I dont think he was making the money to pay for a home, let alone taxes, to begin with."

"They can't possibly be that blind," Preminger fumed, and Eliza raised a thin eyebrow.

"Who?"

"The royal family! The King, the Queen, the Dukes, the Royal Advisors! Are they not sworn to protect this kingdom? And yet it crumbles at their feet at the most civilian level!"

Eliza smiled at him and there was a great sadness in her eyes. She put down her sewing on the floor beside her and moved toward him across the room. The limp in her step had gotten worse over time.

"Preminger, you're a bright boy." She told him gently, reaching up to cup his face with her calloused hand. "I've known that since you first came here. Always reading, always watching, always thinking. You was' never made for this poor-boy life. And you ain't like those brothers of mine."

She was smiling earnestly and Preminger could see there were ghostly tears pooling in her eyes. He swallowed thickly as she continued.

"I had a third brother, and I see him in you. My bother saw what the world expected him to be, and he said no. He said I ain't gonna live no mans life except for my own. I make my fate, no one else gets that privilege for me. And he worked hard and he left. Left this town, found himself a woman and he went and settled down. Things still ain't easy, money still tight, but he's living his own life and ain't nobody doing it for him."

She pressed her lips together in a shaking line, dropping her eyes and fussing with Preminger's shirt collar. When she spoke again, her voice was watery. 

"Don't be like me, boy. Don't get pushed around and lose yourself in the mix. You're your own man tomorrow, decide who that is today."

Preminger looked at her wearily.

"I was born to be a peasant, Eliza."

"Don't matter," she said, and she set her jaw and looked into his eyes with a bright and defiant gaze. "You gotta let go of that man you were born to be. Go chase after the man you want to become."