THE MOON WILL SING. ⸺ ❝ Sing for the damage that we've done, and for the worse things that we'll do. ❞
IN WHICH Cecile Drewitt has always been a spectator of her own life, but now it's her turn to go on stage and play the part.
OR
IN WHICH she i...
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THE FIRST TIME FATE CAME FOR ME it was in the form of a letter.
It had been rather surprising, in the sense that the day started out in a particularly uneventful and usual fashion.
Like everyday, the House was quiet. Like every day I woke up exactly seven minutes before dawn. Like everyday, I got out of bed from the left side. Like every day, it took me thirty four minutes to get dressed and ready for the day.
Like most days, I had counted two hundred and twenty seven steps separating my bed from my chair in the dining hall. Some days, I counted more, others less, but the number barely ever changed. However that day it had been the same and I was quite pleased (I had always particularly liked the days it was the same. It felt like good luck).
I was not entirely sure why I counted, but I liked it. Rory sometimes said that I was a creature of habit, and I found myself agreeing with her for once. Besides, I had always thought that there was comfort and company in the numbers that distracted me from the loneliness of life within these cold walls.
Lonely was not the right word to describe Drewitt Manor. Most times, it could have seemed as if nobody lived in this place- this was only partially true. In my books, living─ truly living─ would mean joy.
Saying we lived in Drewitt Manor would imply all sorts of delirious scenes─ our family together on Christmas Day sharing a warm meal together, our father's deep laugh echoing on the walls. I imagined my sister and I racing each other through the halls, our mother scolding us halfheartedly, an amused smile on her lips. All those images flashed before my eyes, like one of those muggle movies Rory rambled about.
I shook my head to forget them- lies, made up, insidious illusions. I wasn't to feel grief for what never was. There was no love before and there certainly was none now.
