𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐄 ᵖᵉᵃᵏʸ ᵇˡⁱⁿᵈᵉʳˢ

𝟎𝟑, surprises with a cup of tea

III. 1919

TW | sexual assault

Vivian stumbled down the street, clutching her sleeves, pulling them down. She didn't know what time it was but she was sure the sun would rise very soon. She had a sharp headache and she kept leaning to them right causing her to stagger into the wall a few times. She had drunk way too much, and accidentally fallen asleep for an hour or so, which was the reason she was heading to the stables instead of home. It would be hard to make excuses when she could barely form sentences.

She walked around the corner, seeing the yard in the distance. As she walked on, it felt the yard was moving away from her and her vision began to blur. She groaned when she tripped over a curb. She watched her feet as she stumbled along. She was a mess.

She rubbed her eyes, before pulling out her pocket watch, three forty-five. She needed sleep, and a cup of tea, maybe a scone.

She snapped out of her thoughts when she ran her head into the gate, causing her to groan in pain. Vivian rubbed her head, hissing in agony after applying to much pressure. She had rammed her head into the wall near the gate. The crimson colour stained her finger tips, she sighed in annoyance, wanting, desperately, to escape the aftermath of alcohol as well as drugs and now this.

She pushing the gate open and sliding through the gap. She made her way to the stables, tripping over loose materials. She walked through, heading to the back, where no horse resided in. The smell was oddly comforting. She held her coat around herself, as she slid down the wall between the back wall and a bale of hay.

The silence was so loud. Her breathing felt as if it was quickening and it felt as if someone was poking her head constantly. She knew her head wasn't damaged badly or at all, it was just a little blood, a graze. She held her head, to keep it from swaying. She tried to lull herself to sleep, humming a tune that was stuck in her head for as long as she could remember.

"Get off the ground, you'll catch your death"

The voice hissed. It had been weeks since she heard her. She tried to open her eyes to see her or move but her eyes were to sore and her limbs ached. She gave up, "You're one to talk, jumping into the cut an' leaving your family." She whispered back, as she didn't have the will to speak louder.

"You need to take care of yourself, look at the state of you. You need to go home, clean up and sleep in your bed." She spoke to her, quietly, ignoring her statement

"I'm fine right here, with the horses." She whispered softly to her mum, continuing to hum her little tune.

She didn't reply, but she hummed along with Vivian. The woman would visit on occasions, at night, just before she drifted into a deep slumber. Whether she spoke of her youth or told her stories of the Shelby children. Or sing to her as she dozed off. Vivian was sure she was making it all up in her head, but she didn't care. It was comforting.

She thought that one day she would stop visiting, yet after years, she still visited. When she was younger, before the war, she used to stay awake, waiting to see if her mother would come see her but it was only when she least expected, so she stopped waiting and treasured the moments her soft voice would fill the silent room.

"My little dove" she heard before she fell into a dreamless sleep.

It felt as if she slept for two minutes, feeling the need to sleep longer but she had to get up. She knew her brothers were gone to the fair, leaving her behind, assholes. She didn't know the time and feared they'd be back before she was. She doubted they checked on her. One of them would be slowing the lot down, so they wouldn't have time to make sure she was home.