estdeus_innobis | Jan. 7th, 2011

Jan. 7th, 2011

mistresswanda.livejournal.com

Saturday, March 16th

***********!
***********!
***********!

The imp wakes me out of a light sleep, all but trying to burst out through my skin. Being half awake, it takes me a moment to put two and two together. Oh, I wasn't expecting Kent, but with the way she's reacting, he's about the house somewhere.

Drag myself out of bed and throw on my robe. Not up here, not in the bathroom or guest room. Must be the kitchen. He has been rather insistent that I keep eating. Getting down the stairs is a strain, and by the time I do, she is no longer thrashing about wildly. Now I am just annoyed, for if I woke up for nothing...

Well. Not for nothing. Obviously he was here. That has to be the biggest gift box I've ever seen. Wonder what he dropped off that needs a box that big? I lean over and pluck the card from the top.

"To Wanda: as requested. Item in condition in which it was found."

Requested? I don't think there was anything left that I asked f----

Realization hits me like a kick to the stomach. I don't want to move the lid, I don't, and oh god please let me be wrong! My hand reaches out, shaking wildly, and I just lift the lid a little, just to peek...

I keep the scream in, lock it in my throat. I will not scream, for if I do I won't stop. I drop to my knees, pain shooting through them as I connect with the tile, and through my center, for a contracton slams into me hard. No, not now, not today. Not today.

"Miss Wanda, what's wrong?" In my horror, I never heard Romana come in. "Go, run, get the doctor, then get the Sheriff. Get them here now." I hear myself say, but my voice sounds so far away. "Miss Wanda, whats in the---" "GO NOW!!!" I suppose the panic in my voice with the way I look must've been enough to get her moving.

Once alone again, I look back to the box, and move the lid away. Oh Derek, oh my sweet boy..." I sob, reaching in to touch his face, what's still not damaged. "I promise, I promise I will find who did this to you, and I'll make them pay for killing---"

His lidless eye swivels to look at me. My already overshocked mind registers he's not dead, he's still alive and how could anyone have lived through all---

The world decides, mercifully, to go black.

(closed)

mistresswanda.livejournal.com

nansekam.livejournal.com

Saturday, March 13th, late evening; the Zuabi farm

Went down to Oakridge on Thursday night for the nikah. Rashida didn't want to go, and there's no law that she has to, as long as two witnesses go in her place. My sister's not the sort of person you'd think wouldn't want to be present at her own wedding ceremony, but there you go. There's no imam in Excolo, but there is one in Oakridge, so I went there and signed the contract for her. Felt like the least I could do, really. Travelled back here with Taslim and the rest of the Zuabis yesterday, and the party was today. Mum and Dad went all out - big feast, invited all the neighbours. Dad said he was happy to buy Rashida a dress, but she said she'd wear Mum's. Mum was touched, of course, and Rashida looked lovely today, but I can't help feeling she did it cos it meant she didn't really need to think about it. I worry about her. Taslim's alright, he's not as much of a dick as he was as a teenager, but he's still not clever. If Rashida had to marry one of our cousins I wish it'd been Umayr, he's a sensible bloke, but Umayr's been married for ten years, so that's no use.

At least Taslim's strong and fit. He'll be useful on the farm. Mum and Dad are looking frail these days. Mum especially. I know she's ill. Know she's seen the doctor. She brushes it all off, says she's fine, but I think she's in pain a lot of the time. I think she's dying. Think the doctor told her there's nothing that can be done, not for what she's got. Wish she'd talk to me. Wish she'd realise that she doesn't have to carry things alone, that I'm not a kid now. I don't need protecting. But maybe it makes her feel stronger to bear it alone. If it gives her courage to still be the strong one, then I won't stop her.

Lie back on the bed. Party's going on still downstairs, but I've given up for the night now. It's nice, being in my old bedroom, even if later on there'll be a bunch of other relatives crammed in here with me. My nephew Abdullah's asleep curled up like a dog at the end of the bed. He even twitches a bit in his sleep as he dreams, blanket tucked round him. Sweet kid, and I feel a painful sort of tenderness for a minute. Family, eh? Always feel guilty when I come back here. But I've got two families now, and I know where my duty lies. Still. It's hard.

[Closed]