Status: Complete
Sophie
The Beginning
7
My mother cried as she reread the note from my father, her heart cracking with every word. With angry tears, she clutched it and tossed it into the fireplace. But as the paper’s ashes fell, she cried out and pushed her hands into the flames, dragging the note back out. It caught. It caught onto her dress and the lame rug she was standing on. She pounded her fists against them, sobbing even louder.
“Mama,” I called out. I was very young then, too young to comprehend what was going on. My eyes shone brilliantly with the light of the fire.
“Run, Sophie!” she screamed. The red and yellow flames bit at the bed cover and eagerly ate the yellow fabric.
“M-mama!” I yelled. Something was wrong. The embers sparked as it belched up its bites and flung themselves into the air. My mother screamed as she clasped her hair. For a moment I thought it looked beautiful; like a crown of red and yellow leaves.
“Sophie, run!” she gargled as the blisters formed on her skin. Her pleading eyes looked into my frightened ones and she opened her mouth in a momentary scream. Sweat dripped into my eyes and I brushed them away with a hot hand. As the realization kicked in, I stumbled backwards and screamed painfully as I fell and watched my mother burn before my eyes.
The fire ate so much. I watched as it grasped the walls and pulled them into its endless mouth and pulled at the lovely curtains my mother made for my father. I whimpered as I turned away, tears pouring out of my eyes, and flung the door open. When I made it outside, the walls had eaten its way out of the flat and was gnawing angrily at the wooden beams. Someone was screaming and shouting, “Fire, fire!”
A man looked at me fiercely. “Girl!” he shouted. Frightened, I crawled back and onto my feet. I ran, ran as hard as I could, away from the man and away from the hungry flames. I could see the tendrils reaching out for me, cackling and laughing horribly.
“Hello.” My heart started as I crawled into the confines of a tipped over box. A girl, younger than I, stared at me with unblinking gray eyes and repeated her greeting.
I wiped at my running nose, ignoring the black soot covering everything, and said, “Hello.”
She smiled and held out her hand. “My name’s Elaina.” Out of the pocket of her raggedy brown dress she pulled out a gray handkerchief. “Here,” she said as she pressed it into my hand. I wiped it over my face, staring at her intently. Her face was yellow and sallow and her eyes ringed with black.
“Sophie,” I said to her. She smiled and picked up something beside her. It was a small pile of apple peels.
“Would you like to be my friend?” she asked excitedly. I looked over her dirty face and her mangled braids and said, “Yes.”
I never did find out what my father wrote to us.
-
-
12
The rain poured down in buckets, darkening the already smog-filled skies. Elaina shuddered and pulled her stringy, burgundy shawl tighter around her thin shoulders. It had been so long since we last had a something decently edible. “Look, he’s here,” she whispered to me. I nodded and clenched my fists, drawing up what little hope I had left.
“Sir!” I cried out, fumbling onto my feet and running with ragged gasps towards him. “Sir, please,” I began to beg. I froze as he turned to me, his eyes wide and livid.
“Get away from me beggar child,” he hissed.
I gulped, wincing as my dry throat scratched against itself. “But, Sir, you promised.” He turned away quickly and with long steps made way to his carriage. “Sir,” I pleaded again. In desperation I ran as fast as my shriveled legs would let me, and yet the man still had time to slam the door in my face. “You promised us the money,” I yelled hoarsely at the curtained window, anger coursing through my veins.
I felt a sharp pang on my shoulder and looked up fearfully at the driver; my anger diminishing in mere seconds. “Shoo!” he shouted, waving a solemn cane at me. I tried to grab the door handle, but the driver swung his cane again. I cried out in pain as the heavy wood landed on the crown of my black locks.
“Sophie!” Elaina called out from the other side of the road. She darted forward and I could barely make out her figure running towards me as I groaned and clutched at my head. I blinked and began to stand up when the driver suddenly let out a horrified yell.
Someone was screaming. Someone was screaming and Elaina had fainted onto the gravel road. There was a gallant, chestnut horse beside her and I watched as a barely there wind caught at its mane. I felt arms grip my shoulders and my eyes rolled around as they shook me. “Stop! Stop!” a vacant voice said. Someone was screaming and that someone was me.
-
-
The blue and yellow paisley wall blurred in front of me. I blinked and something hot trailed down my cheek. I pressed the back of my bony, pale hands onto my mouth and paused. Like time had stopped. The dots on my graying blouse melded together and fell into water. I was so tired. I knew I looked old, too. My life had worn me down. “Sophie?” I heard a voice ask, “Are you all right, darling?”
I looked up warily at the warm woman in front of me. She clutched a burgundy shawl to her chest and stared at me worriedly.
“Yes, Ma’am,” I answered. My world tilted back into focus and I stood up. “I’m fine.”
“Here, dear, I think you might like this back,” she said softly. I reached out my arms as she handed me Elaina’s thin shawl.
“Thank you,” I whispered quietly. My throat clenched and my eyes blurred to the point of blindness.
I did not have enough money to buy Elaina a proper gravestone, but I found a plank of wood for her afterwards.
-
-
16
My body shook as I kneeled in front of Miss Walter. “I provide you with clothes and food and this is how you repay me!” she roared.
I suppressed a terrified whimper and choked out, “I-I’m sorry.” I let a small sob out as she raised her broom, handle end, and landed a harsh blow onto my spine. It hurt, oh yes, but I’d already angered her so many times for such trivial reasons that I couldn’t help but think, ‘Haven’t you had your fill, yet?’
“You’re nothing without me!” her shrill voice screamed. I was sure that everyone on the block could feel her insane anger emanating from the house. She grabbed at my hair and pulled me up. I couldn’t help but to involuntarily hiss in pain as my knees and legs banged against the floorboards. “You’re a street whore whose only job in life is to die at the end of it!” She mashed my head against the hard walls and I grunted as I felt blood trickle out of the cut I made on my lip from biting it so hard. “You’re a disgusting bitch that nobody cares about!” I could only cough when she threw me to the floor and lashed at my stomach with her broom. I rolled into a ball and tucked my face into my knees, holding onto the back of my head with shaking fingers.
I used to scream when I first went there, the day after Elaina’s death. But now, she doesn’t deserve them. Miss Walter had a wonderful first impression, but oh, how vicious she could be behind closed curtains.
My eyes opened a bit and my head trembled as I peered out of my turtle hole. Miss Walter had disappeared, along with that dreadful broom of hers. Pity I had to use it every day.
My legs and arms ached as they were released from their unnatural contortion and I moaned softly as I pulled up my skirt. My legs were battered and unbelievably purple. It looked as if I’d been dipped into wine. The puss from previous beatings had exploded and dripped down my legs. With a trembling whimper I crawled into my bed, too tired to even clean myself up.
At least Miss Walter had the decency to close my door on her way out.
-
-
I was leaving that night. I was escaping. I didn’t particularly know where I’d be going, but oh, anything must have been better than that. Even the streets I used to roam with Elaina could be considered heaven to the life I’d been leading then. And if I died, well then, Miss Walter must have been right.
Miss Walter had grown increasingly worried with every passing day that Mr. Lambert from the bank stopped by. She owed them money, and yet she had no valuables she was willing to offer herself. Selfish lady; too selfish to even save her own life. I wanted to leave before she decided to sell me, or worse, my body.
Before I took off into the night, though, I needed money. Unlike Miss Walter, I was very willing to pawn off some jewels to save myself. And that I would do. She’s a very heavy sleeper, Miss Walter. I know, for there had been many times I’d had to creep into her room and wake her for a visitor, only to have the person wait another half-an-hour for her to finally open her eyes.
I leveled my breathing, although my heart beat erratically. With my hand pressed against the wall and my feet expertly shirking the loose floorboard on the fifth step and the very squeaky one on the seventh, I crawled up to her room. I oiled the hinges of her door just the day before after Miss Walter complained of them creaking horribly whenever she entered, so they opened easily and without sound. My heart beat faster as I slowly crawled in, staying close to the ground. I froze as she mumbled and turned over in her extravagant bed. There was a sore spot on the ground in front of the drawer and I dodged it lightly. I glanced at Miss Walter. Luckily, she had moved enough so that her back was to me. With shaky hands I pulled at the bottom dresser drawer and pursed my lips as it stuck a bit. With a few quiet shakes it slid open easily and I reached in, grabbing what I could and stuffing it into my bag. Then, when I thought I had had enough, I closed the drawer and slung the bag onto my back.
As I pulled the door open and shut it behind me, I smiled triumphantly. My hand brushed against something and I held my breath as the ceramic vase fell and smashed onto the ground. Inside the room, I heard Miss Walter shift in her bed.
“Who’s there?”
-
-
My heart pumped as I gasped and edged myself into the alleyway. She was gone now, I was sure of it. I sighed and leaned onto the brick wall, pressing my palm against my chest. The chase, I hate the chase.
My back rubbed against the wall as I slid down and pressed my face against my knees. A small whimper escaped me. Fear or happiness, I am not sure. Sadly, my bag didn’t escape. I was penniless in a world I would have died to escape from before.
“’Ello, there.” I scrambled onto my feet and pushed away from the voice. “No, no, don’t be scared, love.” It was a man, much older than me with graying black hairs and a solitary twinkle in his eyes. “My, my,” he sighed as he looked me over. I shifted uncomfortably. “You must have been through a lot.”
I felt the heat build up behind my eyes and they stung.
“You’re safe now,” he whispered. He stepped towards me, his hunched back swinging. He smiled, showing off crooked yellow pearls. I began to sob as he wrapped his arms around me and patted my back gently.
My mother cried as she reread the note from my father, her heart cracking with every word. With angry tears, she clutched it and tossed it into the fireplace. But as the paper’s ashes fell, she cried out and pushed her hands into the flames, dragging the note back out. It caught. It caught onto her dress and the lame rug she was standing on. She pounded her fists against them, sobbing even louder.
“Mama,” I called out. I was very young then, too young to comprehend what was going on. My eyes shone brilliantly with the light of the fire.
“Run, Sophie!” she screamed. The red and yellow flames bit at the bed cover and eagerly ate the yellow fabric.
“M-mama!” I yelled. Something was wrong. The embers sparked as it belched up its bites and flung themselves into the air. My mother screamed as she clasped her hair. For a moment I thought it looked beautiful; like a crown of red and yellow leaves.
“Sophie, run!” she gargled as the blisters formed on her skin. Her pleading eyes looked into my frightened ones and she opened her mouth in a momentary scream. Sweat dripped into my eyes and I brushed them away with a hot hand. As the realization kicked in, I stumbled backwards and screamed painfully as I fell and watched my mother burn before my eyes.
The fire ate so much. I watched as it grasped the walls and pulled them into its endless mouth and pulled at the lovely curtains my mother made for my father. I whimpered as I turned away, tears pouring out of my eyes, and flung the door open. When I made it outside, the walls had eaten its way out of the flat and was gnawing angrily at the wooden beams. Someone was screaming and shouting, “Fire, fire!”
A man looked at me fiercely. “Girl!” he shouted. Frightened, I crawled back and onto my feet. I ran, ran as hard as I could, away from the man and away from the hungry flames. I could see the tendrils reaching out for me, cackling and laughing horribly.
“Hello.” My heart started as I crawled into the confines of a tipped over box. A girl, younger than I, stared at me with unblinking gray eyes and repeated her greeting.
I wiped at my running nose, ignoring the black soot covering everything, and said, “Hello.”
She smiled and held out her hand. “My name’s Elaina.” Out of the pocket of her raggedy brown dress she pulled out a gray handkerchief. “Here,” she said as she pressed it into my hand. I wiped it over my face, staring at her intently. Her face was yellow and sallow and her eyes ringed with black.
“Sophie,” I said to her. She smiled and picked up something beside her. It was a small pile of apple peels.
“Would you like to be my friend?” she asked excitedly. I looked over her dirty face and her mangled braids and said, “Yes.”
I never did find out what my father wrote to us.
-
-
12
The rain poured down in buckets, darkening the already smog-filled skies. Elaina shuddered and pulled her stringy, burgundy shawl tighter around her thin shoulders. It had been so long since we last had a something decently edible. “Look, he’s here,” she whispered to me. I nodded and clenched my fists, drawing up what little hope I had left.
“Sir!” I cried out, fumbling onto my feet and running with ragged gasps towards him. “Sir, please,” I began to beg. I froze as he turned to me, his eyes wide and livid.
“Get away from me beggar child,” he hissed.
I gulped, wincing as my dry throat scratched against itself. “But, Sir, you promised.” He turned away quickly and with long steps made way to his carriage. “Sir,” I pleaded again. In desperation I ran as fast as my shriveled legs would let me, and yet the man still had time to slam the door in my face. “You promised us the money,” I yelled hoarsely at the curtained window, anger coursing through my veins.
I felt a sharp pang on my shoulder and looked up fearfully at the driver; my anger diminishing in mere seconds. “Shoo!” he shouted, waving a solemn cane at me. I tried to grab the door handle, but the driver swung his cane again. I cried out in pain as the heavy wood landed on the crown of my black locks.
“Sophie!” Elaina called out from the other side of the road. She darted forward and I could barely make out her figure running towards me as I groaned and clutched at my head. I blinked and began to stand up when the driver suddenly let out a horrified yell.
Someone was screaming. Someone was screaming and Elaina had fainted onto the gravel road. There was a gallant, chestnut horse beside her and I watched as a barely there wind caught at its mane. I felt arms grip my shoulders and my eyes rolled around as they shook me. “Stop! Stop!” a vacant voice said. Someone was screaming and that someone was me.
-
-
The blue and yellow paisley wall blurred in front of me. I blinked and something hot trailed down my cheek. I pressed the back of my bony, pale hands onto my mouth and paused. Like time had stopped. The dots on my graying blouse melded together and fell into water. I was so tired. I knew I looked old, too. My life had worn me down. “Sophie?” I heard a voice ask, “Are you all right, darling?”
I looked up warily at the warm woman in front of me. She clutched a burgundy shawl to her chest and stared at me worriedly.
“Yes, Ma’am,” I answered. My world tilted back into focus and I stood up. “I’m fine.”
“Here, dear, I think you might like this back,” she said softly. I reached out my arms as she handed me Elaina’s thin shawl.
“Thank you,” I whispered quietly. My throat clenched and my eyes blurred to the point of blindness.
I did not have enough money to buy Elaina a proper gravestone, but I found a plank of wood for her afterwards.
-
-
16
My body shook as I kneeled in front of Miss Walter. “I provide you with clothes and food and this is how you repay me!” she roared.
I suppressed a terrified whimper and choked out, “I-I’m sorry.” I let a small sob out as she raised her broom, handle end, and landed a harsh blow onto my spine. It hurt, oh yes, but I’d already angered her so many times for such trivial reasons that I couldn’t help but think, ‘Haven’t you had your fill, yet?’
“You’re nothing without me!” her shrill voice screamed. I was sure that everyone on the block could feel her insane anger emanating from the house. She grabbed at my hair and pulled me up. I couldn’t help but to involuntarily hiss in pain as my knees and legs banged against the floorboards. “You’re a street whore whose only job in life is to die at the end of it!” She mashed my head against the hard walls and I grunted as I felt blood trickle out of the cut I made on my lip from biting it so hard. “You’re a disgusting bitch that nobody cares about!” I could only cough when she threw me to the floor and lashed at my stomach with her broom. I rolled into a ball and tucked my face into my knees, holding onto the back of my head with shaking fingers.
I used to scream when I first went there, the day after Elaina’s death. But now, she doesn’t deserve them. Miss Walter had a wonderful first impression, but oh, how vicious she could be behind closed curtains.
My eyes opened a bit and my head trembled as I peered out of my turtle hole. Miss Walter had disappeared, along with that dreadful broom of hers. Pity I had to use it every day.
My legs and arms ached as they were released from their unnatural contortion and I moaned softly as I pulled up my skirt. My legs were battered and unbelievably purple. It looked as if I’d been dipped into wine. The puss from previous beatings had exploded and dripped down my legs. With a trembling whimper I crawled into my bed, too tired to even clean myself up.
At least Miss Walter had the decency to close my door on her way out.
-
-
I was leaving that night. I was escaping. I didn’t particularly know where I’d be going, but oh, anything must have been better than that. Even the streets I used to roam with Elaina could be considered heaven to the life I’d been leading then. And if I died, well then, Miss Walter must have been right.
Miss Walter had grown increasingly worried with every passing day that Mr. Lambert from the bank stopped by. She owed them money, and yet she had no valuables she was willing to offer herself. Selfish lady; too selfish to even save her own life. I wanted to leave before she decided to sell me, or worse, my body.
Before I took off into the night, though, I needed money. Unlike Miss Walter, I was very willing to pawn off some jewels to save myself. And that I would do. She’s a very heavy sleeper, Miss Walter. I know, for there had been many times I’d had to creep into her room and wake her for a visitor, only to have the person wait another half-an-hour for her to finally open her eyes.
I leveled my breathing, although my heart beat erratically. With my hand pressed against the wall and my feet expertly shirking the loose floorboard on the fifth step and the very squeaky one on the seventh, I crawled up to her room. I oiled the hinges of her door just the day before after Miss Walter complained of them creaking horribly whenever she entered, so they opened easily and without sound. My heart beat faster as I slowly crawled in, staying close to the ground. I froze as she mumbled and turned over in her extravagant bed. There was a sore spot on the ground in front of the drawer and I dodged it lightly. I glanced at Miss Walter. Luckily, she had moved enough so that her back was to me. With shaky hands I pulled at the bottom dresser drawer and pursed my lips as it stuck a bit. With a few quiet shakes it slid open easily and I reached in, grabbing what I could and stuffing it into my bag. Then, when I thought I had had enough, I closed the drawer and slung the bag onto my back.
As I pulled the door open and shut it behind me, I smiled triumphantly. My hand brushed against something and I held my breath as the ceramic vase fell and smashed onto the ground. Inside the room, I heard Miss Walter shift in her bed.
“Who’s there?”
-
-
My heart pumped as I gasped and edged myself into the alleyway. She was gone now, I was sure of it. I sighed and leaned onto the brick wall, pressing my palm against my chest. The chase, I hate the chase.
My back rubbed against the wall as I slid down and pressed my face against my knees. A small whimper escaped me. Fear or happiness, I am not sure. Sadly, my bag didn’t escape. I was penniless in a world I would have died to escape from before.
“’Ello, there.” I scrambled onto my feet and pushed away from the voice. “No, no, don’t be scared, love.” It was a man, much older than me with graying black hairs and a solitary twinkle in his eyes. “My, my,” he sighed as he looked me over. I shifted uncomfortably. “You must have been through a lot.”
I felt the heat build up behind my eyes and they stung.
“You’re safe now,” he whispered. He stepped towards me, his hunched back swinging. He smiled, showing off crooked yellow pearls. I began to sob as he wrapped his arms around me and patted my back gently.
♠ ♠ ♠
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