IP: 90.252.233.57
Posted on July 28, 2017 at 02:05:07 AM by aura
But all that has changed, and now I'm bold.
Aura was early. She sat by Fleur’s bedside, twiddling her scythe, waiting.
The old lady was the last of her family to go, and glad to be on her way out of this world. She’d told Aura so, several times.
“C’est terrible,” she muttered, over and over. “Dame Osseuse, to die before your children is the worst thing in the world. I will see them now.”
She spoke softly, her voice little more than a breath on the still, stale air. There was nothing wrong with Fleur that the doctors could clearly identify; she was just old. In the last half-hour since Aura had arrived, she had defied the nurses’ orders to rest and told Death all about her life. Born in France long ago, married a Dutch man, tried desperately to conceive. After three miscarriages and a stillborn, she and her husband had given up. A year or so later they were blessed with the miracle of a child, whom they both doted on. Their little boy – Marcel – was the apple of his parents’ eye right up until the day of the hit and run. He’d been twenty-five. Fleur had come to Shaman only five years before, after the death of her husband, and had lived a quiet life in the Commune for most of that time. She’d moved to the castle with the flood and had spent much of the last year in and out of hospital. Now her time had finally come.
“My boys will be together, in the next life?” She asked Aura for the thousandth time.
“Maybe,” Aura cautioned her patiently, “maybe not. But we can find them both.”
Fleur sighed and closed her eyes, her breathing slowing. Not long, now.
The peace was shattered by an overly familiar and very loud voice, shouting Aura’s name. Fleur’s eyes flicked open. Aura dropped her scythe to clamp both hands automatically to hear ears; it clattered to the floor and her clothes shifted back to the ones she’d died in. As long as she was touching her scythe, Aura wore the hooded, ice-blue robes of the Reaper; once she left go, she was suddenly wearing her grey tank-top and shorts again. Raising her eyebrows apologetically at Fleur, who looked faintly amused, Aura stood up and went to the door of the hospital wing, which she pushed open tentatively. Poppy had just stomped past, a whirl of anger and coppery red hair. Other, nosey folk had poked their head out of doors along the corridor. Aura stepped outside and shut the hospital door quickly behind her, trying to minimise the noise on the patients.
“Poppy!” She hissed quietly, hoping her daughter would follow by example. “There are people dying in here.”
She pressed a finger to her lips ardently.
A u r a
They thought I was weak, but I am strong; they sold me the world but they were wrong
And now that I'm back, I still belong.
Replies:
- here to relive your darkest moments - By poppy July 30, 2017 at 03:38:57 AM
- we will rise together - By aura August 3, 2017 at 00:32:11 AM
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