The Girl and the Window

Chapter 1~ Tea and Torment

Light streams through the cracks in the spaces between the curtains as one of the women awakens with a start; it is the woman with dark hair.

Her entire being is soaked with sweat and she shakes violently from the dream she remembers vividly, only it wasn't much of a dream but rather a flashback; either way, it was still in her head, but that didn't stop her body from reacting greatly to the experience, again. Her stomach felt weak, and that was the cue for her to get up and get to the bathroom. She throws the covers aside and moves swiftly from the four-poster bed towards the place where she can relieve herself.

She hunches over and vomits into the toilet for the third time that week, and it was only Monday; she was just glad she made it again. She wrapped her arms around herself as she shivered from the usual shock of getting sick and her sweat getting cooled by the morning air that flowed through an open window.

Mary would be expecting her to come down anytime now. She would need to freshen up first.

The tall woman took a slightly warmed shower and got dressed in her normal dark attire; her shower could not have been the temperature she would have preferred because the blonde told her warm showers weren't healthy, therefore, she was forbidden from turning the knob past six o'clock clockwise (the shower knob started at twelve). Once, the woman had moved the knob to at least nine o'clock so she could truly feel the warmth of the water, and somehow Mary knew right after she emerged from the shower. It was not a pleasant experience... not that she ever really had a good one.

The tall, pale woman dries her hair and heads down the stairs towards the kitchen to face her malicious partner. Mary is no where to be found, and instantly the woman feels a deep dread.

Since Mary is usually the one to instruct her to do things- wait, who was she kidding? Mary was always the one to instruct her to do things- she is unsure of what to do. She could practically feel Mary's eyes boring into her being from some unknown place, waiting, ready for her to make a mistake, which she would gladly punish her for.

Her eyes travel the room, looking for any sign of her threat, but there is nothing to see. She knows she can't stand around and do nothing; it would make Mary lose precious time. Either way, the woman with dark hair could not win at Mary's guessing game.

The pale woman, who looked rather ghastly from the morning's first events, decided to make tea. Her hand shook quite noticeably as she filled the kettle with water. The water could be heard splashing against the walls of the pot, and then the kettle itself rattling the metal burner grates. She placed it down firmly, and her arm felt weakened from the little water that was in it. She ignited the gas stove and went right to getting the necessary things that Mary would want in her drink: honey, cinnamon, and of course the tea bag... She was able to get those items out just fine, but it was when she reached for the cups did she find herself in a predicament.

She wanted to get the beautiful cups they bought years and years ago to get Mary in a happy mood because she always seemed to get cheerful while drinking tea, especially from one of those cups. They were in the top cabinet over the counter where the sink was, but that was not much of a problem since she was rather tall. Her delicate fingers opened the cabinet with more confidence than when she was filling the kettle. She had just touched the saucer of the intricately designed cup when a voice pierced the silent early morning air.

"What are you doing?" Mary asked shrilly. The woman removed her hand from the cup, clearly confused.

"What do you mean?" She asked quietly.

"Those cups are only to be used during special occasions, and this morning is not one of those," She says curtly. The fragile woman tries to explain to her that she only wanted to make her happy with the lovely decorated cups, but Mary cut in to say, "I heard you shaking that kettle so much I thought you were about to bring on an earthquake. Do you really believe I would allow you to handle those cups with that sort of lack of self-control?"

The woman closes the door to the cabinet softly, and turns off the kettle as it starts to whistle without a word. She looks down as she asks if she still wanted her to get a cup for her.

"Your flimsy hands will drop it, no doubt. I do not want to deal with a broken cup, even if it is not as pristine as the ones you were initially reaching for," Mary says a little snobbishly.

The blonde with sharp features pushes past the thin woman to reach a regular cup from the cabinet. She pours herself the hot beverage, not before slipping the tea bag into the cup, and dips her spoon in the honey, reemerging it and twisting the small strand at the end to help it from dripping onto the counter. She swirls the spoon around as the golden substance slides off gradually because of the high temperature. She then taps a small amount of cinnamon into the dark steaming cup, and stirs the remaining ingredients together, creating her favorite heterogeneous drink.

The blonde moves across the room and leans against the wall as she surveys the woman with the dark hair and deep chocolate eyes that remind her of those that prey have: wide and innocent, although, she is hardly capable of using such judgement since the woman's eyes are downcast and her head is lowered. The woman breathes in sharply as she feels the hard gaze of the blonde's hazel eyes penetrating her being. She folds her arms and grasps her elbows tightly to show her discomfort. Mary watches her for a moment more before leaving the room silently.

The woman with dark hair lifts her head at the moment when the shorter woman disappears into the other room. She lets out an inaudible sigh and removes her hands from her elbows, which turn red from where she grasped them. Her body relaxes slightly, but her mind doesn't. Who knows what Mary will do next?

It's been years since they moved in together, but the woman was still unpredictable at times. One slight miscalculation could make the whole house come crashing down. Although today, she appeared to be in a better mood than usual.

The tall, dark beauty decided to go to Mary, tiptoeing as she made her way to their small sitting room. There was a fireplace, but it could hardly hold a log, often making one of them cut it in half so it could fit. A few paintings hung on the walls, displaying lovely scenes of nature-they had been left in the house when they got it, and Mary kept them reluctantly for Tina. They did contrast greatly with the dark colored walls.

"You appear to be in a pleasant mood this morning," Tina dares herself to say. She settles herself down in the only remaining armchair, resting her hands on the edges of each armrest, almost like a queen.

Mary doesn't take the hidden challenge in her words, and instead sips the tea she made herself. She places it on a miniature side table on her left, and thinks for a moment before speaking.

"We will be going somewhere today. Together. But not in the way you believe," Mary says slowly, each word taunting Tina, making her heart beat faster; she instinctively sits up straighter.

"I have discussed it before: you know the tests we have conducted throughout the years, and what we were missing- something to help with the Youth Project. An element missing, making complete success nearly impossible without it," Mary continues. Tina feels her heart pound within her chest as she anticipates what her next words are, but she cannot stop herself from asking what they need to obtain.

"A child. An infant no older than seven months or so. That is what we need, and you're going to help me steal it."