[Theatrical Muse] Response
Feb. 18th, 2007 09:59 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
his_sarah_janeDo you believe in ghosts?
The day was sunny and bright and somewhere in the nearby woods, Sarah Jane could hear a sparrow whistle out her song. She hated it. It was a strange feeling for the five years old girl, the burst of anger towards the sparrow. On any other day, she would have been bubbling about with a string of never ending question on the bird’s song.
Today, though. Today, she hated it.
She frowned and tilted her head in the direction of the nose as if glaring at it would make it go away. It didn’t. It should have.
The funeral had been hours earlier, but Sarah Jane had insisted they stay when Aunt Lavinia had wanted to go. After Sarah had come close to throwing a tantrum, cheeks reddening and eyes welling with tears, Lavinia had consented. So here they still stood in front of two tombstones that bared the names of Nigel Collins and Alice Trent Smith, the girl’s beloved parents.
Sarah didn’t fully understand what had happened yet. She remembered the headmistress telling her that there had been an automobile accident and she remembered Aunt Lavinia picking her up from school instead of her mother. She knew that she would be living with her aunt from now on. And she knew, she knew beyond a doubt, that now, her mummy and daddy rested beneath the delicately carved tombstones.
What Sarah Jane didn’t understand was why? She couldn’t conceive any reasonable thought why her parents didn’t want to come back for her. It just wasn’t fair. They were finally coming home from Daddy’s business trip and then they weren’t. That was what Sarah refused to understand.
“Love, we should be going soon,” Lavinia said softly, giving her niece’s hand a small squeeze. “We can come and visit again tomorrow if you’d like.”
But Sarah didn’t want to go. Sarah didn’t want to go if Mummy and Daddy couldn’t come too. She stared at the graves minutes longer without answering, her face scrunched up in confusion. Finally, slowly, she looked up at her aunt.
“Why aren’t they ghosts?” It was silly but she didn’t care. “Cartoons are silly and I like the news lots better but Casper was on telly yes’erday and he’s a ghost. I like Casper. He’s a ghost,” she repeated firmly. “Why aren’t they?”
Sarah watched with wide brown eyes as her aunt kneeled down on the grass to meet her eyes. Lavinia pushed a strand of Sarah’s dark brown hair out of her face and smiled softly. But she could see the tears in her aunt’s eyes as she said, “Oh Sarah Jane.”
It was at that moment, without any explanation, that she decided never to believe in ghosts again. They didn’t exist – they wouldn’t exist – and Mummy and Daddy wouldn’t be coming back. And Sarah Jane would never be watching Casper again.
She began to cry.
Even as an adult, Sarah Jane would never believe in ghosts despite all of the oddities she would see. But on the anniversary of her parents’ deaths, she always wished that she did.
The day was sunny and bright and somewhere in the nearby woods, Sarah Jane could hear a sparrow whistle out her song. She hated it. It was a strange feeling for the five years old girl, the burst of anger towards the sparrow. On any other day, she would have been bubbling about with a string of never ending question on the bird’s song.
Today, though. Today, she hated it.
She frowned and tilted her head in the direction of the nose as if glaring at it would make it go away. It didn’t. It should have.
The funeral had been hours earlier, but Sarah Jane had insisted they stay when Aunt Lavinia had wanted to go. After Sarah had come close to throwing a tantrum, cheeks reddening and eyes welling with tears, Lavinia had consented. So here they still stood in front of two tombstones that bared the names of Nigel Collins and Alice Trent Smith, the girl’s beloved parents.
Sarah didn’t fully understand what had happened yet. She remembered the headmistress telling her that there had been an automobile accident and she remembered Aunt Lavinia picking her up from school instead of her mother. She knew that she would be living with her aunt from now on. And she knew, she knew beyond a doubt, that now, her mummy and daddy rested beneath the delicately carved tombstones.
What Sarah Jane didn’t understand was why? She couldn’t conceive any reasonable thought why her parents didn’t want to come back for her. It just wasn’t fair. They were finally coming home from Daddy’s business trip and then they weren’t. That was what Sarah refused to understand.
“Love, we should be going soon,” Lavinia said softly, giving her niece’s hand a small squeeze. “We can come and visit again tomorrow if you’d like.”
But Sarah didn’t want to go. Sarah didn’t want to go if Mummy and Daddy couldn’t come too. She stared at the graves minutes longer without answering, her face scrunched up in confusion. Finally, slowly, she looked up at her aunt.
“Why aren’t they ghosts?” It was silly but she didn’t care. “Cartoons are silly and I like the news lots better but Casper was on telly yes’erday and he’s a ghost. I like Casper. He’s a ghost,” she repeated firmly. “Why aren’t they?”
Sarah watched with wide brown eyes as her aunt kneeled down on the grass to meet her eyes. Lavinia pushed a strand of Sarah’s dark brown hair out of her face and smiled softly. But she could see the tears in her aunt’s eyes as she said, “Oh Sarah Jane.”
It was at that moment, without any explanation, that she decided never to believe in ghosts again. They didn’t exist – they wouldn’t exist – and Mummy and Daddy wouldn’t be coming back. And Sarah Jane would never be watching Casper again.
She began to cry.
Even as an adult, Sarah Jane would never believe in ghosts despite all of the oddities she would see. But on the anniversary of her parents’ deaths, she always wished that she did.
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Date: 2007-02-18 07:52 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-02-18 08:59 pm (UTC)