Chapter Nine

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         “The disease which had thus entombed the lady in the maturity of youth, had left, as usual in all maladies of a strictly cataleptical character, the mockery of a faint blush upon the bosom and the face, and that suspiciously lingering smile upon the lip which is so terrible in death.”

                                                                          Chapter Nine

 I woke up the following morning to a grey sky. Light rain pattered against the windows. I wanted to stay in bed and let the hours tick away until it was tomorrow.

            Letty knocked softly at the door. Her knock was hesitant, not her normal firm knock. “My Lady, are you awake?”

            For a moment I wanted to ignore her and roll over onto my side and continue sleeping. “I am,” I called back.

            Letty entered, looking wary. She didn’t meet my eyes. “Would you like me to assist you this morning, my Lady?”

            I sat up and stretched my arms in front of me. Everything ached. Cold rain and the prospect of cold weather outdoors made me shiver.

            Letty and I proceeded with our daily routine: a bath, the combing of my hair, and then the picking out of a dress.

            “The black one today, Letty.”

            Letty smiled sadly and pulled out the single black dress I owned.

            The morning continued in a daze. I attended breakfast with Mr. Kennedy and barely listened to him talking. Normally, I loved to hear his stories and his voice. Not today.

            After breakfast, Mr. Kennedy departed for Roderick’s room. When I entered the main hall, the manservant, Richard, came down the stairs.

            “Is my brother still sick today?” I asked.

            Richard shook his head. “He’s still complaining of a headache. It seems even worse than yesterday.”

            Of course it does, I thought silently to myself.

            I returned to my room to grab a cloak and then made my way outside.

            The rain had slowed down since earlier that morning. I kept the hood of my cloak down, letting the flecks of rain hit my face. After a few minutes, I reached the Usher family graveyard. I stepped past my grandfather’s grave, then between my mother’s and father’s graves towards a small headstone near the rear. I hesitated before sitting on my knees, the muddy, dead grass soaking into my cloak and dress.

            I closed my eyes.

            I’m not sure what I did as I sat in front of that grave. I had long ago stopped praying to a God I felt no longer existed. I suppose I could have reflected on my life, but why bring back the horrors of the past? Life had become a solitary line. It wasn’t like I had multiple directions to move in. The solitary line only chugged slowly forward. I couldn’t go back.

            About the only thing I did as I sat in front of the grave was listen to the rain. I listened as it hit the headstones of the graves around me and I felt it stick to my eyelashes.

            I took a deep breath.

            I’m not sure how long I sat there. It could have only been minutes. It could have been hours.

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