Colonel Seeders' Mail Order Bride, Hank

13 Michelle

Michelle:

Michelle bit her tongue to stop the tears as Hawk spoke about his mother. For ten years he had to live thinking that he was broken and then to have the additional knowledge that his own mother did not want him added onto all the heartache, and yet he still got up each morning with a smile on his face and went about his day, feeding himself when his father went to work, entertaining himself when his own uncles couldn't come around to speak to him.

And here she lay feeling sorry for herself.

Right that second she decided to step it up and be a mother to the little boy, even if Hank got rid of her when Hawk no longer needed her.

But then as she wanted to leave, someone whispered to her. Softly at first, telling her what she needed to do, and then louder with more urgency, like it depended on her life.

She pressed her hands over her ears to block it out, though it didn't help. It got louder, until her legs gave way.

Suddenly, Hawk's voice shouted in her head.

"Leave my mother alone!"

A hand closed over her shoulders. Too small to be Hank's and Hawk could not move his fingers that far from his palms.

"Get out of her head!" he shouted again. His breath warm against her cheek.

A force slammed into her chest, sending her backwards, as a second force fulled back from behind. Then she lay staring up at the ceiling.

"Mom?"

"Michelle!" Hank shouted, shaking her shoulders.

Someone had dragged her through a desert. She blinked to get rid of the sudden grit in her eyes, swallowed, or tried to, but nothing helped.

A cold glass pressed against her lips and then icy water trickled into her mouth. She reached up to bring it back to her mouth, sitting up at the same time.

"Wow, take it easy," Hank said, placing his hand behind her head to help her. "You just knocked your head really hard."

She gulped down the water and held the cold glass against her eyes, first one and then the other. "Feels more like I just got blasted by a sandstorm. What the hell just happened?"

"Someone was in your head, but I kind of forced her out. I don't know how. I didn't know I could do that. And I didn't mean to hurt you," Hawk said.

"And you still think that you are broken? You are amazing and I am very glad that I agreed to come here. If you didn't help me, I probably would have done something really stupid right now."

Hawk kneeled down and leaned against her, so she wrapped an arm around him. "I couldn't hear what she said to you, but I didn't like how it felt. It looked like she was hurting you."

"Only because I was fighting it. I mean, who would want to go stab themselves in the stomach when they have a wedding to get to." She hugged him tighter and then pulled herself up using Hank's shoulder. "And... You didn't hurt me. I fell over and hit my head. I'll probably grow a lump back there, but it will go away. For now, I think we should do as your father said and get dressed."

Without waiting for either of them to speak, she walked to her bathroom and turned on the shower.

Her head ached more than she let on and when her wet hair pulled at the lump forming on her head, she wanted to go lay in the special medical bed for five minutes. Her fear of having her mind invaded again, kept her in the shower for a few more minutes, before she went through the bag of grooming tools that Hank bought for her.

Using small tube-like sponges, or that's how she thought of the weird hair curlers, she wrapped her hair around them and then placed the helmet that came with it onto her head. She waited the required five minutes and then removed all of it, to let her dry spiralled curls drape down her back to her hips.

She played around with a few of the gadets, like a hair removal roll-on that wasn't a roll-on at all. The little ball on the front vaporised all the hair it touched. The hand sized hair remover went straight into her bag for emergencies, along with a small hand cream that helped her nails grow. Another square box with a hole in the fornt instructed her to insert her fingers to grow and colour her nails, which had been chewed down to the skin underneath. After using it, she vowed never to chew on her nails again. No way would she put herself through the pain of growing her nails again.

Almost an hour later, she stood in front of a full length mirror, dressed in a white fur dress. Someone had taken extra special care to brush out all the strands and embroider the neck-line and hem. In her moccasins and matchng fur coat, she almost remembled an Apatchy woman, preparing to be wed to her...

"That is exactly what you are doing, you idiot," she scolded her reflection.

"Mom, Dad says you have to wear a coat. It's snowing outside."

A grin spread over her face as she glanced at the window, and then she ran to pull the curtains back. How long had it been since she saw and felt real snow?

She rushed out of her room, ignoring Hawk's gasp, and rushed down the stairs to the front door where Hank stood gaping like a fish.

"Is it really snowing?" she asked as she pulled open the front door.

Without a care about her hair, she rushed out into the cold and turned her face up to the heavens. The softest, coldest flakes drifted down and melted on her heated skin. She cupped her hands and tried to catch some of them as they blew around in the wind.

Her grin spread bigger when both Hank and Hawk ran out to help her catch the evasive flakes.