"Timeless" - Narnian Autumn Writing Challenge - Oneshot Collection

"Still Here, Still Waiting"

Word count: 629

Prompt: Golden

Notes:

• Edith, Alan, Timothy, Robert, Mr. Jackle and Mrs. Jackle are all OC's created by StorySnippets SaharaCastine and myself

°

Golden light shivered atop her mahogany desk and swelled on the piece of paper that lay folded open in her hands.

The golden light illuminated the bland, black writing of the letter. Filled up the corners of the room.

It looked so pretty.

And she hated it.

This was no moment for anything to be pretty or beautiful or happy. Or anything.

Edith wished she had never opened that letter. She wished she had never read it. It was better to not know.

For a week, she'd been living with this news, hiding it away; no one else needed to know, no one else cared to know.

Inside the letter were disturbing words, words she wanted to forget- unread.

Her brother, her safety, Alan, was killed while fighting off in the war.

And what disturbed her the most was that the last thing she said- screamed at him were rude remarks.

An argument had happened between them before Alan left for war.

She never thought he would die. He was too strong, too willing, too capable. Too safe.

He couldn't die; he was her brother.

But he did. The war didn't care if you had family, it just took and took and took until you were left with nothing.

Even if she wanted to forget; in her hands, the letter signified the truth each time she reopened it.

Dead.

The letter was wet now, from her tears, the ink began to bleed and trickle slowly off the paper, down onto her black shoes, staining them with dampness.

Big girls didn't cry- yet here she was, at twelve years old, bawling. What a stupid thing to do.

But, no one had questioned if she was okay, even if she had seemed distant.
Which she supposed was good, she did that to herself, she didn't want anyone to know, she wanted them to think of her as tough- even if it was a lie.

She had not told her cousins Timothy or Robert, nor her aunt or her uncle, she figured someday they'd learn of the news.

For now, no one else knew, and that was good.

As she shoved the letter down onto her desk, watching it crinkle, the light shimmered and reflected on the golden seal of the envelope. Her stomach hurt.

She felt so guilty, like she killed him- even though she knew she hadn't.

She shouldn't have been so angry with him before he left, what if Alan had died thinking she didn't love him? What if he had hated her when he left this world? Never could she know.

And because of all this, she feared she would never have peace again. Only tormenting and torture; that nobody knew of.

Quietly, Edith turned off her lamp and watched as the gold sheen melted and faded into the gloaming shadows of the nighttime.

Then, a few minutes later, the darkness seemed too much, and, she tiptoed out of bed, scurried to her desk, pulled down the line on her lamp, and watched as the light ate up the dark.

Even though it made the room look cozy and warm and happy, Edith much preferred it to the total darkness in which her fears became bigger than they were.

Like the fear that Alan might've hated her. But... he'd said once "I'll always love you, Edith. No matter what you do or say to me. You're my sister, my special little sister. And I love you so much."

Still, the doubt edged into her mind, and the hurt resurfaced into now silent sobs.

She wanted someone to hold her.

Back in her bed, toasty and numb, she remembered her small amount of money; she would use that to buy a frame for her brother's picture.

A golden frame.