The Letter

Mrs. Dowelry was sipping tea, sitting on her rocking chair in the back porch of her incredibly big mansion. It was early. The sun hadn't risen. But Mrs. Dowelry had been having a nightmare. She didn't used to have nightmares. Oh no, back in the old days, Mrs. Dowelry was so strong that nightmares weren't a part of her dictionary. 

But ever since......no, she couldn't think of it. Ever since an incident, Mrs. Dowelry had been having nightmares every night. This morning, she had awaken, trembling. The shock of what had happened had washed over her again. She lay like that in the dark for who knew how many hours. 

Finally, not knowing half of what she was doing, she slipped out of bed forgetting to wear her slippers and crept out to the kitchen to make a cup of tea. She got lost on her way to the kitchen. The mansion seemed so big when she was the only one there. It was such a happy place before the....... incident. But after that the place became the home of an old lonely woman.

Mrs. Dowelry lay in her rocking chair not touching her tea. She recalled her nightmare. No tears came from the old lady's eyes but her face was chalk white and withdrawn. She lay so still in her chair, she might as well have been paralysed. Thoughts ran through her mind. She couldn't hold back anymore. 

Memories flooded her of her husband's death. How she opened a letter from the army giving her the news. He had been too old. She shouldn't have let him go, but he insisted. Then a year ago, another letter came to her. She didn't recognise the same stamp or handwriting. This time it held the news of her son's death. He had been too young. 

Now she wished she had burned the letter up in the fire.

 Instead, everyday she slept with it.

The bell rang. Mrs. Dowelry didn't hear. It rang again. She slowly shuffled from her seat and went to the door. Then what she saw almost killed her with shock.

'Mother?' came a voice.