Threading the Wrong Needle | Twilight [2]

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Estelle weeps all the harder, clinging tight as she loses all sense of composure. She struggled, in vain, to compose some sort of speech or plan that you tempt them into remaining at her side, to compel them to understand that she is not suited, is not capable of withstanding the pain of their departure, of living alone, but their were none that she would be able to persuade her mother to understand when she held a human existence in a higher regard than that of her current lifestyle. 

She knew that Marion did not regret turning into what she was, she did not regret the second opportunity at life, but she kew that she regret not living out her years as a human. 

Already, Estelle has grown older in years than her mother was when turned. A few months only, but still older, still full of life and opportunity, as her maman would say. 

"I cannot make you as I am, daughter," Marion whispers. "Do not ask such a thing from me." 

It felt as though hours passed while she was held by her mother, letting her cry until she could produce tears no longer. Left in bed to rest, tucked into her blankets, Marion left with eyes dark when Estelle rested on the cusp of sleep. The girl knew she would be gone for at least an hours time. 

Estelle paced the halls, her room, the home entire. She counted the minutes, considered the options. She knew that her uncle would be hiding from her with friends somewhere in the village. He was vulnerable to her tears, weak to her requests and pleas. 

He would be within earshot, she was sure. He was never truly so far as to leave her in their home alone, and if her timing was correct then her mother would be nearby. 

It took much more consideration, much more careful thought before she decided rather stoically on what to do. 

Estelle tipped her candle to the floor and set fire to their home.

For three days Estelle burned in a blur of agony she could hardly remember. 

When she woke on a bed too soft and clothing that scratched at her skin but did not annoy, Estelle thought there was a type of silence around her that was quite wrong. The smell if the air was stuffy, make clung around her. 

She could hear chatter outside, could hear children playing in the distance. They were not close, enough that it was clear. If they were then she truly would have been disappointed in the description her uncle had given her of the range. 

Sitting up the room blurred with perfect detail from the speed. Estelle froze once more to settle herself, swallowing thickly around the burning sensation in her throat. 

They were not in their home , that much was clear. It was all a different style, a different decor with a new smell that did not remind her of home. There would have been no hone for them to stay in regardless. Not since Estelle was apparently successful in burning it to the ground. 

"Estelle?" the voice is the oldest one that draws memory, a sound she could never forget. Maman. 

"You made it," she breathes, launching herself across the room to embrace the woman with such ferocity. 

"Of course, I would make it. My little bird, I am so sorry. I do not know what happened," Marion says, voice thin and seeming forced. "You understand what has happened?" 

"I am a vampire. I died in a fire," Estelle says. "A candle had fallen." 

Marion does not reply for a moment. Steps outside the door prickle against her senses. A hand smooths through her hair. 

"It is your uncle," maman explains, "How do you know it was a candle?" 

The burn in her throat prods angrily at her attention but all Estelle can focus on is her mother. There was trepidation in her gaze, worry and concern. The shadow of a memory twinkles in her mind. 

The argument would not best long ago that her maman would not suspect the decision behind her daughters action, but the grief that lay their let Estelle know that her mother would not want to hear the truth all the same. 

Estelle would be with her mother always. Estelle would do anything make sure she stayed happy. There was no heavy thought behind the lie she created. 

"I saw it, maman. I must have knocked it when I got up for a drink of water. I could not make it out of the house." 

Marion, all her grace, pretends to accept it as truth for both of their sakes and nods, eyes falling closed in an attempt to banish the welling tears in her red eyes. "I am sorry, my little bird. I had to change you. I could not exist knowing that was your terrible end." 

Estelle smiles. "I want this, maman. I do not weep for a lost life. It is no regret to have this eternity with my family to see every and all things." 

Her mother pretends not to hear the confession, nodding once more as she holds her daughter for a moment longer. 

"Come. Let us feed you, Estelle. It will soothe the burn. We can decide later with Hugo where we shall reside after all this." 

Accepting easily, Estelle follows her mother towards her new existence. 

***

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2024-02-11