The Note

Conformed

"No. You don't . . ." Mother puckered her lips. Then she turned to Nanny. Nanny turned and left. Tora watched the door close behind Nanny in amazement. Her watcher had finally left.

Mother sat down, stealing back Tora's attention. She didn't say a word though, and worry began gnawing at Tora's insides.

Then she heard footsteps and turned to her right to watch the door open. Nanny stepped in with one of Tora's chambermaids.

Mother stood, graceful once more.

"You have prepared your soul?"

The woman was old, with short grey hair under her maid's cap. She was thin under her worn black gown and wrinkles lined her face. Tora studied the woman's shaking hands and worried eyes. She watched in confusion as the Chambermaid nodded to Mother. 

"Good. Continue."

The woman turned to Nanny, who was leaning down and pulling up her skirt. Questions pounced to Tora's brain when she saw Nanny pull out a large engraved knife from a sheath around her leg.

The woman was jerking with spasms when she accepted the knife. Tora dashed over to her maid.

"What are you doing? Are you okay?" Concern for the woman was pummeling Tora, but the woman didn't glance at her.

Tora reached out and pulled at the woman's skirt, demanding attention. Curiosity played through her as she got a good look at the knife. It's handle was white and the blade a pretty silver with swirling lines on it's center.

When Tora glanced back up, the woman's face was pale and sweaty. Tora opened her mouth to express her concern again, but then the woman raised the knife.

"Stand back child. Now."

But Tora was too invested in the maid to listen to her mother. The woman was mumbling something now. Tora couldn't understand her though and leaned closer.

Hands wrapped firmly around Tora's forearms and jerked her back. She gasped and looked up to see Nanny.

A soft yelp stole back her attention. The maid stood trembling as she stared serenely at the ceiling. She clutched the knife. . . The knife in her chest.

Something dark began seeping into her black dress.

Her eyes began to droop and then her legs gave out. The thump as her body hit the ground pushed Tora back into clarity. Adrenaline spiked and she jerked out of Nanny's hands. When she reached the woman she knelt beside her. A soft floral perfume rose to her nose.

"Hello? Hey. . ." She didn't even know her name.

"Leave her child. She's gone." Mothers voice intoned. "She's with Death now."

Tora felt a chill of truth at her mother's words. Something wasn't right with the woman. Her body still lay before Tora. . . The woman's eyes were foggy. Her chest didn't move. When Tora moved the woman's hand she couldn't help but snatch it back from the stiff fingers.

"You are so special child, that to leave these walls you too, would be lost."

Mother's voice echoed past Tora. Her eyes began to blur as her pulse sped up. Blood raced down each limb in strong jabs. A pounding beat her down. . . down. . .

Tora let herself be pulled to the floor. Let the darkness seep over her mind. . .

"Wake up child!"

Tora inhaled sharply and jerked up. She sat on the ground. Her eyes pulled wide and she sucked in deep gulps of air. The pair of hands came back and hauled her to her feet. Then she stood alone again.

Her mother walked before her blank form and caressed her head.

"Don't worry. I keep my special things safe." Her mother's cold fingers curved around Tora's chin. "However, I can't do that with you like this." The fingers dropped away.

Tora looked up, fear pinching her eyes.

"Like what?" She gasped.

"Don't worry child. I'll fix you."

Fix me?

Tora watcher Mother's consoling face smooth. Her features were still. Clay. Tora's palms grew clammy as she twisted them together.

"Take her back." 

Dread was an understatement to what stabbed into Tora's chest.

Nanny's hand slid like a vice over hers and she was pulled away, her steps stilted and numb.

Is this really happening. . . ?

Tora glanced back. Mother's glacial eyes watched her until Nanny closed the door. 

Yes. . .

After another few weeks in the shed with only darkness and a mute Nanny, Tora conformed.

When her mother sat her down to fresh berries and a bright smile again, Tora was ready for the question. She sat still, hands in lap, as she waited for her mother to speak. 

"Child. Why can you not leave these grounds?"

"Because I'm special."

She stared at the wall behind Mother as she nodded.

"Why?" Mother said kindly.

"Because I'm special. I'm yours." Tora droned back.

Mother's limp lips plastered into a smile. She rose and walked over to pull Tora into a hug. 

"Yes child. You've learned well."

She had. She'd learned to fear Mother more than the thought of living with unanswered questions.