e lucevan le stelle
anna gray was dead on paper, thanks to people's laziness.
in 1924, anna bernard was suppose to go to Birmingham with her guardian, attend grace burgess' wedding and leave the city. easy and uncomplicated ― the reality however was...
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Anna has never hurt anyone.
Not even as a chid or a teenager when life threw nothing but stones at her. She always took it all in very gracefully ― boiling in pain on the inside ― but remaining unbothered on the outside. She didn't hurt the people who beat her, locked her into small spaces. She never said back when someone yelled at her or insulted her. There's been many times when she could've hurt those people ― no one would ever blame her ― but she never did.
Anna was staring at Father Hughes still and cold eyes. There was no light or life in his grey eyes. His body was limp, its heaviness starting to bother Anna as he was still on top of her. But Anna couldn't move. She was too afraid to move.
When she had stabbed Father Hughes, time had stopped around her. There had been nothing but her, the broken piece of glass she had used as a weapon and Father Hughes. Now there was only her, the broken piece of glass was now covered in dark red liquid and though Father Hughes' body was there, his soul was not.
He was dead.
And there was so much blood.
Blood floated from his dying body, covering Anna's torso.
There was still ache and pain around her neck where Father Hughes' fingers had been but that wasn't why she couldn't breath now. The man's heavy body pressed her closer and closer to the cold floor underneath like she was falling through it. Annal lifted her one arm up ― the one which was not holding the blood covered glass ― and tried to move Father Hughes from her. But her own body felt like a stranger to her. She didn't know how to use her muscles and move the man away.
Nothing felt real.
There was soft humming in her ears and she could hear someone calling her name but she couldn't see anyone. She couldn't recognize to whom the voice belonged to. She didn't see anyone either ― Father Hughes' body was blocking the view to anyone or anything. She closed her eyes as there was no reason for her to look for the source of the voice ― maybe she was just hearing things.
She was in a state of panic.
Her breathing got heavier and heavier. No air got into her lungs or out. She imagined this must be what drowning feels like. She thought she was drowning. Like imaginary water was filling her lungs and there was nothing she could do about it.
Maybe she wasn't the alive but the one dead. Maybe Father Hughes had managed to strangle her. But that didn't explain the blood. Or maybe he had stabbed her. That would explain the blood which was covering her too. It could be her blood.
Her eyes were still closed but for the first time in a very long time, her mind was wide-open. Perhaps she was really dying ― she could remember things she has never remembered before. The times she and her good friend Erica had ran around the streets of Stafford. She has never before recalled a friend called Erica, let along a friend. But she had one. Then Erica had died. She was beaten to death by her foster father.
