short sorcery stories

The Glass boy

My family owned one of the large farms outside of Atlanta. It was a place to live. I didn't always agree with my father's way of running it, but one should never question a father. My mother, father, sister, and I are together. In a small cottage at the edge of the green before the plantation started was the home of my sister's governess. She was mine before her; Lady Tucker lived there with her family. I don't remember being close to the family as a child. Lady Tucker's eldest was a daughter three years my younger. She had two more daughters before finally having a son. By the time he was old enough to play in the yard, I was learning my father's business, and he was ten years younger. As is always the circumstance when being in such close proximity, I came to know the family.

The three girls were all so different from one another. The youngest Kit was a silly girl. She was loud and flirted with all the young men at community engagements when she was introduced into society. While the young men played along, enjoying themselves, I'm sure none would take her as a bride until she acted like one. The middle sister was named Elowin; she was an accomplished woman. Well-practiced on the piano and violin, she also spoke French and sang. People stopped to listen to Elowin play every time she touched the keys. She was now fifteen and engaged to a well-off gentleman of the north. He came down on business and fell for the sweet charm of her.

The eldest was strangely the forgotten sister. She faded into the background in all aspects of her family. First, not being a son, then not being as beautiful or talented as Elowin, and still not being as silly and fun as Kit. Men didn't chase her. In fact, most thought Elowin was the eldest of two. Because Cypress, while being out in society, never enjoyed the engagements and stayed home while her sisters went out. When she did leave, she found a way to disappear from the crowd and sneak outside, away from all the business. This made her the most foolish of the sisters as she was the most likely to die an old maid. My own sister was a small thing, but eight. As for myself and the Tucker sisters went out, I could hear her complain about her wish to go. When we would return, she lived for Kit's descriptions of the lively affairs. They were constantly embellished for her sake.

Several days before writing this down, the most horrible of events occurred. The son of Lady Tucker, Franklin, became ill, and soon after that, a carriage came onto our property and roaded up to their home. My family was busy with our everyday activities. In the early morning, before breakfast when we heard the gunshots. I ran to the window in time to see men, guns drawn, break into the Tucker's home. As I ran for the door, I heard the girls' screams. My father joined me as we investigated our guns at the ready, but we were too late. 

The carriage was speeding away. Mister Tucker was lying dead on the ground in front of the home with Lady Tucker weeping, holding on to him. She was getting covered in his blood. The three girls were kneeling in the dirt. Cypress held her sisters close, turning their heads away and whispering words of goodwill. Their brother was nowhere to be seen. Cypress, unfortunately, kept her eye very consistent on her father. Then they went to the path the carriage took out. As I stared, my sister came running from the house. Mother chased her, trying to keep her inside and away from all this. I caught her, swung her into my arms, and faced her away from this spectacle before she knew what it was.

"William," My Mother says, gripping my shoulder for support. "take your sister and the girls up to the manor while we handle this." I turned to Cypress, carefully keeping my sister from the ghastly sight. I'm sure she would have nightmares even now without fully taking it in. Cypress dragged her own sisters, following me to my home. 

We waited in the parlor; I shut all the doors to their first to keep everyone in. Secondly, so that they would not be exposed to anything going on outside. The parlor faced the other side of the property. Looking out these windows, you could almost shake off what happened as a bad dream. Kit and my sister Sophia sat quietly in a corner, pretending to cross-stitch. Elowin Played the piano poorly for the first time in her life. Cypress was sitting on the window sill pretending to read but staring at the sky.