You Found Me || Dearly Departed
The shop was silent for the night, Mr. Hendrickson must have already closed it up. It was almost earie at how quiet it was and it was moments like this, she missed her kids running around the place. Willow and Lily had already moved on with their lives, having no time to come around anymore. Jackson was off at school, leaving her all alone by her little lonesome. There were time raising the kids, she wished for the silence, but now that she had it, there wasn’t anything that she wouldn’t give to hear the small feet patter against the floors. Clara had thought a few times to find someone to love, but there was a feeling in her gut that her husband was still alive, that he was out there looking for her, and it was what kept her pinned to the window, glancing out waiting for him to return to her open arms.
As her blue eyes peered down below to the world changing around her, her mind didn’t fully grasp what was happening. To her it was the end of the Revolutionary War, the country brand new and still celebrating the years of battle for freedom turning out just like how they hoped for. While she may have been born in England herself, she was raised in the new country, fell in love here, got married here and raised her children here. She was just as American as the family living across the street from her and she couldn’t wait until her husband to come home so she could kiss him like her solider deserved. The poor girl was delusional and lost in her mind not understanding that she died over 200 years ago.
This was a cold night, not that she couldn’t feel it anymore, something she should have clued in on years ago, and it was silent. Yet there was a tug that this wasn’t just a normal night…that something was going to happen. The redhead was looking out the window when she heard it, someone breaking in. Scared and alone, she hide underneath her bed, still small enough to fit in it, hoping that whoever was breaking in would take what they wanted and leave. Sure the shop made some money, had some left over from her father when he finally passed, but they weren’t technically rich. In her mind she had no reason for them to break in, so she waited, eyes closed hoping that whoever was here wouldn’t find her under the bed, hiding like the mouse she found in her clothes last week. She named it Timothy and he was now living in her clothes permanently. Minutes passed, turned into hours and yet there was no sign of them leaving, gathering her courage she climbed out from under her bed, and grabbed his father’s shotgun, and cradling it to her like her husband had taught her how to. Taking a deep breath she took the first step to scare off this intruder, she didn’t have to wander far to find him at all. In fact all she had to do was turn around.
There in her bed was a man with dark brown hair, green eyes closed as he slept and small snores drifting from a mouth she knew better than her own. A gasp fell from her lips, the gun slipping from her grip from the shock creating a loud sound as it hit the ground. For a moment the girl was silent and then, as if she couldn’t believe it, she muttered one single word. “Jack.”
