I'll Leave You Words

.𝓹𝓻𝓸𝓵𝓸𝓰𝓾𝓮

𝐈'𝐋𝐋 𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒
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𝐓he rain pattered against the window with a harsh thump, the water forced to break its desired formation and spread in a disarray against the glass surface. Judith longed for the substance to touch her skin, for the cold drops to press against her no matter how they made her shiver. It would be cold. She knew that much from the lack of light in the sky due to the gloomy clouds covering its joy. The wind howled in protest, begging for its promised warmth in the coming hours. But the cold was better than nothing as right now all Judith Almeida felt was nothing. 

Her skin was pale, nearly ghostly white against the dark black pigment of her silk dress. Her dark chestnut hair had been carefully pinned back into a bun, the loose strands of it meant to cascade in coiled curls. The skin beneath her eyes had acquired a purple tint in the days leading to the funeral. Sleep never came easy to the young child before but now it was nearly impossible. Her once bright eyes had dulled, the color sinking from a bright honey brown to resemble near perfectly the darkness of her hair. 

Scarlet fever wasn't supposed to be as common in adults. It was a disease mainly targeted toward children and yet somehow when the sickness finally swept its way across the Almeida household, Judith was the only survivor. It wasn't fair, nor was it right. There was nothing more the young girl wanted than her family back; to be held by her mother and chased around by her father. The games and stories she once despised now became the focus of her desires. Just one more minute. That was all she begged for as her sad eyes searched the clouds for some higher being. All she wanted was one more minute but it was a gift no god could grant her. Her parents were already buried and the fresh pile of dirt erupting in the graveyard was only a reminder of that. 

The rain only seemed to fall harder as Judith struggled to blink away her tears. She had already sobbed her throat raw and cried hard enough for the whites of her eyes to turn red, but yet she was nowhere near finished. All she had to do was hold up a strong front a little longer, just until the funeral ended then she could cry all she wished on her way to the orphanage awaiting her arrival. 

There was nobody left to take care of her. No living aunts or uncles, her grandparents had been dead long before she was born, and her housekeeper was much too old to be burdened with another child. The only place left for her to go was the orphanage and maybe then she could find a new home. Though it was unlikely of children her age to ever become rehomed. People only wanted babies and toddlers. Judith was neither. 

A hand suddenly latched onto her shoulder, startling the young girl from the trance the streaks of rain had put her in. Her wet puffy cheeks shun in the little daylight peeking through the cracks in the clouds as her gaze drifted to the clammy hand against her skin. Confusion pulled at her brows as she took in the sight of the elder woman before her. She looked to be dripping in wealth, her black dress made entirely of silk and a matching hat pinned into her hair. She appeared to be much older than her parents and she was no one that Judith recognized. She opened her mouth but then quickly closed it, unsure of what to say at the woman's sunken eyes drawn upon her with the deepest of sympathies. 

"You must be Judith Almeida?" She asked, her voice hoarse against her throat, probably from crying during the funeral. Judith didn't trust her voice after the long hours she'd spent straining it so instead of giving the elder woman a vocal response, she gave her a short nod of confirmation. The sympathetic look on her face appeared to double as she softly rubbed the skin of Judith's shoulder with her thumb. "You must be wondering who I am. I was a friend of your mother's once. She lived in the house across from me, I watched her grow many years old before she met your father and moved here to France." A soft smile hugged the woman's lips at the faint memory. She didn't much like children but the teenage Veronica marked herself forever in her cold heart. "You may call me Aunt March, your mother was always fond of doing so."

Judith looked so much like her mother. The only visible appearance Aunt March could make out that belong to her father was her dark hair and brown eyes. Other than that, she was a near-splitting image of Veronica. "I once promised your mother aid in anything, should she need it. She always was such a stubborn thing and never wanted to trouble me. Even when she needed it most, she never asked for help." Her frown returned to her lips. "I am terribly sorry for your loss, Judith." The young girl pursed her lips to hold back the coming cries building up in her throat. "Tell me, whom will watch over you now?"

Judith hung her head. "N-no one." She softly spoke, afraid if her voice reached the volume above a whisper, it would break entirely. "I have no one."

Aunt March shook her head as she crouched down to be level with the girl. "Nonsense, my dear. You have me." Judith's confused eyes rose up to the woman again. "If you will allow me, that is, I would like to take you back to the United States with me. I will watch over you as my own and I have a brother with children I think you will take much interest in playing with."

A little glimmer of hope twinkled in Judith's eyes and for a moment she forgot entirely why the offer was even presented to her. "You would do such a thing?" She inquired softly.

Aunt March nodded, reaching her hand up from Judith's shoulders to wipe the tears from her cheeks. "I won't leave Veronica's child to grow up in the slums of some old orphanage. That much I can do for her." A faint smile tugged at the corners of Judith's lips as she nodded her head, an answer to the unsaid question. Aunt March returned her smile as she moved her hand to rest in front of her beside her other. "Well then, why don't we depart from this place? Death can leave a terrible stain on the soul if left by it for too long." With her heart heavy, Judith spared one last glance out the window of the building beside the graveyard. For a final time, she took in the sight of fresh dirt before two headstones and climbed down from the bay window to follow her newest guardian.

But little did anyone know that was just the beginning of Judith Almeida's many nightmares.