"Do you think it'll last?" I ask in a soft whisper, my yarn-wrapped hands frozen in the air.
"What, dear?" James' mum questioningly replies, never stopping from her flawless movement of yarn work.
"The war," I say, even quieter than before.
A bluejay lands on the windowsill outside, catching my attention with his pestering tweets.
"Harold thinks it shouldn't last much longer. But who's to say, these things we can never know," she smiles sympathetically as I glance away from the bird, "I'm sure James will be fine, dear. He's a strong man."
"I know," I lip smile half-heartedly, closing my eyes in pain of the horrible thought of... "I'm just so scared for him."
"And you have every right to be, Katherine," she soothes, setting down her knitting to rest a reassuring hand on my shoulder.
I grasp her hand, struggling to keep the tears in my eyes. It's hard for me to imagine never seeing James again. That is just something that will forever be surreal to me.
A quick knock at the door snaps both our attentions away from each other, and I hastily run to answer the door. Mother stands, wrapped in her old brown shawl with two letters in her hand, her eyes full of shock as she finds my gaze.
"I came from town," she says quietly, lifting her hand to me, "They told me to bring these to you, Katherine."
I stare blankly at the envelopes; one a normal, white letter, and the other a plain golden color. Taking the letters, I flip them around to find the addresser, but am instantly confused when I see the same letter I sent to James only days ago. The other is from the army.
The army.
"Mum," I choke, disbelief flooding through me, "Mum, what are these?"
She closes her eyes, tears trailing down her cheeks as she covers her mouth and turns away. A quick, abrupt cry from inside forces me to turn around, and James' mother has a hand over her mouth, barely able to stifle another cry.
"What's going on?" I cry, and without realizing what has happened, tears begin to spill over my cheeks as I shout, "Mum what are these!"
"It's not for me to say," she replies through tears.
"No!" I shout, shoving past mum towards the barn as I tear open the golden letter from the army. I throw the envelope on the ground as I unfold the telegram.
Katherine Nicholls
Canterbury, England
July 21st, 1914
We regret to inform you that your husband, Captain James Nicholls, was killed in action, on July 19th, 1914.
My heart stops. Pain racks through my chest as tears spill uncontrollably from my red eyes.
"No!" I scream, ripping the letter to shreds, throwing them in the mud as I run inside the barn. My terrified screams fill the air, frightening the horses as I collapse to the ground, cradling myself in my arms.
Sobs rack my body as I sit helplessly on the barn floor. My head feels heavy, my thoughts jumbling.
"James..." I cry, tears falling into my mouth and rolling off my chin, "James..."
"Katherine-"
"No!" I scream, not caring who it is as I cover my ears like a child, "No! It's not true! It's a lie! It's a lie..."
Comforting hands come to rest on my shoulders, and mother's familiar soothing voice breaks through my barrier. She tries to calm me, to hold my quivering body.
My cheeks sting from the tears that continue to roll over the dry ones, and I can feel the warmth burning throughout my face.
It hurts.
My heart aches with a pain that will never go away.
And I can feel the child inside me crying with the pain of having to come into this world fatherless.
•••
Crickets endlessly chirp outside. A crooked moon shines its light through my window. Trees sway in the light breeze that blows in against the curtains. The faint sound of a horse's sleepy nicker sounds across the yard.
I lay quietly on the bed, my head planted firmly in the tear-stained pillow. My dress is tight, reducing the air that comes into my lungs. But I'm wearing it for James. Just like he asked.
He had so badly wanted me to have this dress. I remember the fuss I put up for it, but he ended up winning in the end. Why had I never worn this dress for him? Why had I never let him see it on me for the last time?
He asked me to wear it. So I'm wearing it.
And I will never take it off again.
A soft knock at the door stirs me in the bed. "Katherine?" mother whispers, "Katherine, dear, are you alright?"
Why she is asking me in the middle of the night, I don't know. I don't care. So I don't answer.
Instead I silently lay, listening for her footsteps to leave the doorway before sitting up and dragging myself to the closet. James' clothes still hang neatly in order; he hadn't any need of them when he left. Reaching out, I take his jacket, sliding my arms into the warm, fur-coated leather.
Everything about him comes back; his smell, his soft touch, his voice.
I cuddle myself in his jacket as I run back to the comfort of the bed.
And I cry.
--
A/N:
GUYS I'M SORRY, OKAY
Wow, I've reached 1.2k reads and that is totally fantastic. Thank you so much guys!
Well, the book is actually almost over. Five more parts left, to be precise. I hoped you guys have enjoyed my writing and I also hope this book has lived up to any expectations. I would hate to disappoint any of you darlings. But anyway, please vote and comment because feedback is greatly appreciated - as are votes! You are really helping me when you do either of those things so please be helpful and, well, do them xD
Thanks lovelies!
- 〽️️iddleAsgard, at your service.
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Surreal
Fanfiction"We regret to inform you that your husband, Captain James Nicholls, was killed in action, on September 19th, 1914." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ And I could feel the child inside me crying with the pain of having to come into this world fatherless.
