Xeranthemum

Chapter One: Aster

Sophia Beatrice Harrington was born on the 27th of September, in the year 1899. She was but a thin child at the time of her birth - underweight at 3 pounds and 6 ounces. Prematurely born. The doctor did not think that she would be able to survive growing up.

But she did.

Beatrice grew up in a broken family. Their father had left when she was seven, leaving her mother and her siblings to take care of each other while he ran off with his mistress. You see, when Bea was born, there had already been trouble between her parents. Bea was an attempt for them to fix everything, and for a while, they were able to.

As much as his father loved his blue-eyed angel, she wasn't enough to make him stay. They weren't divorced: far from it, even. After all, women at the time weren't allowed to divorce their husbands unless their sins included domestic violence, incest, or bestiality in addition to adultery. Women, on the other hand, can be divorced for one adulterous act. It was such an unfair time back then for women, and Mrs. Harrington herself knew it.

However, it wasn't like Beatrice needed him. Compared to the life that she would have witnessed were her father still with them, she would tell everybody that she was pretty lucky. Her life was filled with a family that cared for her, that may have had their tough times - because what family does not? - but still managed to come back with even stronger love for each other. Many people would say that, sadly, they did not have the same.

It was a good thing that the eldest of the Harrington siblings, Jonah, was smart enough to work as an assistant to a professor in his university. It was how he finished his studies and how he was able to get work to provide for his family, the siblings consecutively finishing their studies until it was time for Bea to go to university.

She wanted to make everyone proud, so she went on to study hard, eventually garnering the second place amongst their batch. She'd done it, then. She made her family proud.

But it didn't stop there.

Once she had taken on a job as a stenographer, the youngest of the Harrington siblings used her money to provide for her family, and by that time, one by one, their elder siblings were already going on to date and build their own families. She was the only one left eventually, and she didn't even have a chance to go out with people, try to build her own family with a child of her own before that winter.

Its specifics, however - including the origins of what she calls her curse - was something that Beatrice always wanted to keep herself. She would not share it with anybody, no matter the amount of trust that she held for them. The only ones who know are her family, and rightfully so.

-

She was just about to take another sip of her coffee, but the voice stuck out like a sore thumb in the noises of the room. She froze for a moment, although it was very brief, to collect her thoughts and try to find an immediate way to answer and not be caught. So she put on her best confused face - eyes searching and eyebrows knitting - and went on to ask, "I'm sorry, who?", as if she hadn't heard the name that had come out of the man's lips. She put her book down, putting the bookmark in between the pages before closing it.

"Beatrice Harrington?" the man asked, his brown orbs looking at hers and trying to search for any trace of lies.

"I'm sorry, I don't know the name. You must be mistaken," she said, with a shake of her head. If somebody were to try and dissect her actions now, they would merely think that she was being creeped out by this man mistaking her for another person.

But Agatha wasn't creeped out, not in the slightest. In fact, she was panicking inside. Who was this man and how did he know her? There were only a handful of people that knew about her identity, that knew she was impervious to the effects of aging. Her family was dead, so who was he?

She began to think, her mind wandering through her incessant travels across the country to hide herself. If other people knew her and her story - if the government knew - she would be turned into a lab rat and be experimented on. That was what they did to things they could not understand. And with a government that had many corrupt people who would want this immortality upon themselves, she would rather live a life where nobody truly knew her.

As her mind went on, gears working as it tried to identify him, she heard the man's voice once more, "Well, uh... I'm sorry, then, that I mistook you for somebody else."

"Oh, it's alright," she said, brushing it off. Finally, he was going to leave and she was going to find peace... maybe even plan her next destination.

"I'm really sorry for interrupting you," he apologized once more.

"Don't worry about it," she said with a nod.

"Dad!"

Both Agatha and the old man turned to the direction of the voice. Upon doing so, she noticed a younger man, perhaps the age she appeared to be now, coming their way. He bore a striking resemblance to the man who had been talking to her earlier. He also bore a striking resemblance to an acquaintance she had met many, many years ago.

"There you are," he said before turning to the brunette. "Hi, I'm really sorry if he caused any trouble."

"No, really, it was fine," Aggie replied, shaking her head again. Her mind now running quickly to find out who the older man was, she knew she had to get a name from the son's face.

"I'm Blaine," he introduced before turning to his dad and gesturing to him. "This is my dad, Andy. We're really sorry for the inconvenience. We were just leaving."

She froze in her seat and watched them as they left, heart still as a marble statue. Andy... She knew that name. It was one that held so much meaning long ago, one that reminded her of a past that she would sooner die for than forget.

Perhaps it was her age catching up to her and her memory worsening over time, but she could not believe that she put that face in the very back of her mind where all the other happy thoughts were buried. The face that meant everything to her once upon a time. Perhaps it was just her dealing with her grief, putting other things to mind that she had forgotten who he was. After all, many a people forgot the faces of those they loved if they didn't have any reminder of it. Perhaps it was what was happening to her.

But as soon as that face came to mind again and she was reminded of the happiest days of her life, she lost her focus. Time passed by, and before she knew it, she was once again home with a book she had all day to read, but haven't gotten even a quarter through.

As she turned off her lamp that night, she wished her dog a happy slumber, knowing within herself that she wouldn't be able to find the same after remembering what she did to Andy.

After remembering that, despite how much she loved him, she had to leave him at the altar.