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Rated: E · Fiction · Emotional · #1336971
Short draft about a mother and daughter that I needed to get out of my head
The wind stung and froze my face and bare feet but I paid no mind, my biggest concern was getting home and not waking anyone. After what seemed like hours I reached my home, a safe haven. I made my way through the break in the old rotting fence and up the snow covered path. My hands trembling as I unlocked the front door. Quickly I controlled the sobs that I didn't realize were escaping my lips.
My feet and clothes left wet puddles on the floor as I made my way towards the staircase, and for once I was thank-full that I came from a family of heavy sleepers. I grabbed the worn railing and just about collapsed then and there in relief that I was home. Suddenly I heard a light flick on overhead and the soft patter of feet, looking up I saw my Mother standing on the empty landing. Her soft grey hair hung over her shoulders and a frown was fixed into her face, skin that even in the dead of winter was the color of honey at the bottom of a jar.
"I...There..." I started but couldn't finished without risking going into hysterical crying, but before I had the chance my Mother was at my side and leading me through the dark house, towards the kitchen. As soon as she had me seated in front of the rustic wood stove I tried to speak again. Instead she shushed me and scurried around the dark kitchen with the grace I always longed to have.
"You seemed to have gotten into quite a scrape again, haven't you?" Kneeling in front of me she applied some kind of salve to my split lip and pressure to my black-eye. "Taking lessons from your younger sister, Francesca, are we?"
We sat there in silence as my cuts and bruises were attended to.It was becoming unbearable, the truth searing my tongue, like my rash words tended to do when I didn't speak them. A lump settled in my throat and tears pricked my eyes, threatening to spill over and form streams down my face.
"He hit me" The words escaped my lips before I could swallow them and bury them in the back of my mind like all the others. Frantic and hysterical sobs and crying followed. I buried my face in my hands as the warm tears trickled down my face and mixed with dry blood.
"I know, I've known all along." Her voice was gentle as she revealed the one thing that I had hidden from the world, even my own twin brother, who was more than flesh and blood. The one thing that I had swallowed and had been eating a gaping, piercing hole in my stomache and had begun to work on my heart.
Her arms wrapped around me tightly, sturdy and strong like the old apple tree that sat in our yard. That tree was ageless,tall, gnarled and twisted, even the fiercest and coldest snow-storm couldn't destroy it. My Mother reminded me of that tree, sturdy and unmoveable. I buried my face into her chest, she smelled sweetly of rosemary and lemon verbena.
"Roberta, my swan child." She stroked my hair and held me tightly as I continued to sob. "Finnuala, my swan daughter." she whispered the my name ever so lightly, the name barely audible. It wasn't the name that the world knew me by, Roberta, it was the name that only my family new. It was my secret name, almost forbidden to be spoken outloud.
As she began to hum a wordless lullaby, one that all of knew but never really remebered, I realized something. It was something I never realized before, that I needed my Mother, and I needed her more than anything in the world. All the years of being the one child who never looked for sympathy or attention from my Mother, allowing my brother to be the sensitive one. Years of running around with no need of anyone but my twin and my imaginary friends.

(not done)
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