Post by ELLEN ELIZABETH WATSON on Nov 14, 2013 23:41:16 GMT -5
wearing
Weak. She felt weak. It had been two and a half weeks since she lost their child, and she still felt incomplete. The words of their fight still rang in her head, and she couldn't get them out. She knew most of what she had said came from an irrational and angry place, but she still felt guilty for it. She still felt she was responsible for the fight, therefore, holding her responsible for the miscarriage. Lawson would tell her she was delusional for believing it, and that's why she had to get away. And she had: immediately following her recovery.
Ellen hadn't even been home a full day before her mother and father rushed her home to New York City so she could 'properly recover' as her mom had said. If she hadn't felt so broken, she wouldn't have accepted the offer, but she was desperate to get away. Her mother had properly cared for over the two weeks. They had gone shopping together like the old times and watched movies to help her get her mind off of everything that was going on. And her father read from the Lord of the Rings before she went to bed just like when she was a little girl. It was a nostalgia rush, and it made her feel like a child again for the first time in decades.
Reality slowly slipped away from her over the two weeks, and any call or text she received from Lawson or even her children she ignored. Ellen simply couldn't be bothered by it; she couldn't bring herself to think about it. And her mother made it very easy for her. After painfully ignoring the first few calls, her mom offered to take her cell phone away. Against her better judgement, Ellen let her hold onto it. Anything to help her forget.
But soon her fairytale world where she was still mommy and daddy's little girl was not longer something she could hold onto. She had to go home for real no matter how painful it would be. After two long weeks of being away, she finally packed up her belongings, and her mom drove her home. Ellen let out a breath of air before slowly walking up the steps of her house. It looked alien to her, and it certainly didn't look like home to her. After a few moments passed she reached into her purse and took out her house keys. Slowly, she inserted it into the keyhole and turned, the door opening. The tears were already welling up in her eyes. She wiped them before moving inside the door frame, shutting it behind her. The house was dark, and she wasn't even sure if anyone was home.
Her eyes scanned the room and she stared at her beautiful grand piano at the corner of her living room. It had been too long since she played. Playing always used to make her feel better when she was younger. Hopefully, it would do the same for her now. Slowly, she went over to the piano and sat down. She put her fingers to the keys and started playing Chopin's Nocturne in C Sharp Minor. That had been her senior recital piece, and she knew it like the back of her hand. As she played, she let all of her pain and emotion run from her heart to her fingers, and by the time she was finished, she was crying.