The People of Dewbrook

Chapter Twenty-Three

"The Lord had taught us to love our neighbour," Caroline began in an attempt at explanation but soon realised that she should have chosen a better beginning when Mildred's eyes turned into dark, burning pits of judgment.

"You do not care about the teachings of the Lord, except those that serve to benefit you!" Mildred screamed again, trying her best not to break into tears. "You make my heart burn with a hatred that I know is of your ilk, but your hypocrisy leaves me helpless! I am kind and miserable, whereas you are malicious and joyful! I hate you and everything you stand for!"

"I am miserable in a way you could never imagine," Caroline whispered, her sadness making it hard for her to speak.

"Where is your misery?!" Mildred screamed yet again, feeling the growing strain of her lungs. "Show it to me, if you claim to have it!"

Caroline swallowed, wishing not to have mentioned her misery when the image of the gallows appeared in her head more clearly than anything before her. Then, whether as a blessing or a curse, Stephen marched into the room with a glower, stepping right between the two of them. Disapprovingly, he tilted his head from one to the other every few seconds before deciding to break the uncomfortable silence, eventually deciding to tower over his wife before asking her the fateful question:

"Mildred, what is the reason for all this hollering? I demand that you explain it to me immediately."

Mildred shivered. "Well, my beloved husband, the truth is that she appeared at my door sullenly and claimed to have accepted the teachings of Jesus Christ, which is obviously not true, and when I began insulting her over her glaringly evident dishonesty, she began acting as though she were the victim here, and her supposedly getting married to Harold came into the conversation, which is the gravest insult she could have said to me. I apologise for my screaming, but I sincerely believe that I was in the right."

"You will never talk to my lover that way again!" he yelled at her before hitting her in the face with all the force inside of him, only realising what he had done a little while later when Caroline became dejected and Mildred let out a cry of horror.

"You did it," Mildred said solemnly. "You really did. You are not who you used to be anymore."

The three of them stared at each other with fright for what seemed like an eternity, not being able to decide who was going to leave the room first. In the end, no one did, for there was much to be resolved. With a deep sigh, he began the conversation again, tormented by a question he had almost forgotten but could not ignore, yearning nervously for an answer:

"Caroline, why did my wife say that you told her that you are marrying Harold?"

"Because I am," Caroline said defeatedly, hoping that she would get to explain herself fully, but he too started screaming before she could say anything else.

"He is a villain worse than I! Because this must be the truth, I will confront him with haste and make him regret that he was ever born! I knew that there had to be a reason why he kept you with him for an entire year now! Generosity, he said! The only generosity he had ever hoped for was that which flows from a woman's breast! But you torture me so as well, having fulfilled his advances! Congratulations! I hope that you are happy with him!"

As he broke into tears, she came behind him and patted him on the shoulder. "There are no villains in this story, Stephen, at least not anymore. I will live a life of abstinence with Harold, you will return yourself to the right path with the help of your wife, and no one will suffer ever again. Is that not the best ending one could hope for?"

"I cannot stay here any longer," Mildred said, shaking her head and storming out of the residence, her soul overwhelmed with sadness, anger and confusion, heeding no one's words.

In a couple of minutes, Mildred arrived at the front door of the Wells family manor. While knocking every few seconds and waiting for a response, she noticed that the night had begun to rise in all its dark and wretched glory. The various pretty shades that the fading sun left behind were being replaced by an utter blackness that contained no clouds nor stars, only the full moon that shone overhead like the light of Death. A murder of crows flew swiftly above the roof, cackling in voices that were in themselves of doom. A harsh wind blew shortly at the withered black branches of the eerily thin trees, bringing a chill to her spine. This haunting sight drove her mad amidst her seemingly neverending waiting, thus she began to bang on the door and shout, knowing that Harold had to notice her if he were there. And he did.

"What is going on, Mildred?" he asked her the moment he opened the door, raising an eyebrow.

"Is it true that you are marrying Caroline?" she asked, causing him to gasp.

"How did you know-" he began, earning him a vigorous slap in the face.

"That is what you get for being a lecher!" she shouted, her face turning red.

"I can explain," he said, raising his hands in the air. "Caroline said to me that she had had a terrible vision and that she wants to start anew with me, and she seemed genuine enough, so I accepted her proposal, but I can see why it seems dishonest. I am sorry."

She smiled brightly at him. "I understand it now. That is all I came here for. Goodnight, my friend."

"Goodnight," he greeted her back, but she did not hear him because she had vanished quickly, leaving him to stare in her direction and wonder what was going on in her disturbed head.

Little did either of them know that they had been eavesdropped on. A pair of emerald eyes had been staring at them attentively from the bushes during their whole conversation, belonging to none other than Fanny Lovelace. At the precise moment Mildred had arrived, she had approached the bushes, walking to the manor to confess her love for Harold at last. Upon noticing that they were busy with a conversation, she retreated, not wanting to interfere, believing that it would be a normal conversation. 

Clearly, it was far from that, so far that it made her blood boil with a rage she never could have imagined. Her life had become nothing but an empty void, emptied by that greedy, self-serving, murderous woman by the name of Caroline Proust, acting as venom in the place of friendship. She supposed that such a person could not express better friendship if she wanted to, but then it was her own fault that she had ever been friends with her in the first place. Eternally cursing herself for her folly, she marched off the Wells territory, eagerly planning the occasion during which she would show her former friend what was what.