A Thing of Beauty

Chapter 1

There was only one thing to do - she had to leave...tonight.

She had always planned to leave especially when it became clear that her mother was not improving, but not so soon. At least she wanted some time so say goodbye and arrange to have the cottage looked after while she traveled. But there was no time. A quick glance at her timepiece told her that she had about two hours before sunset. Not much time at all.

They never had much in terms of worldly goods, so there wasn't much for her to pack. She would have to carry everything on the hike, since she couldn't afford to waste what little currency she had on a transport. She changed out of the dress into pants, a shirt and warm coat. Her only pair of good shoes made way for her work boots. She dug out her old school backpack and eyed it with a critical eye.

The canvas fabric was still in good condition. Quickly emptying it of any left over notes and pens, she stuffed it with two pairs of fresh underwear and socks, a clean shirt, a hat, her only pair of gloves and the bare necessities for personal hygiene. Giving her long hair a hard look, she decided to pack a pair of scissors, but not waste any time now to cut it. A quick braid would have to do.

Next she inspected the food stores. Meagre as they were. It was late spring, so there could be some things she could forage along the way. It reminded her that she needed a good knife. It took a moment to find her dad's old hunting knife at the back of the cupboard. It was still sharp. It went into a side pocket of the bag.

Digging around for a suitable bag, other containers would be too heavy, she packed all the dried food she could find. Some things would need water to reconstitute it before it would be edible, but it would last longer than fresh food. A bottle for water would be good. A spoon and bowl was added. She spotted her mother's home made first aid kit. Quickly bagging it before she changed her mind she tested the weight of the bag. Not too heavy.

She stood back and bit her thumb nail trying to figure out what she had forgotten. Fire. The moment she spun around, the sun's last rays fell onto the windowsill.

Time was up. Quickly grabbing matches, a lightweight fibre blanket that could also serve as a rain coat, and the sandwiches she had made for lunch but couldn't stomach before the service. She was ready.

Slowly zipping up the pack, she turned around the kitchen and did a last tour of the cottage. In her mother's bedroom, she ran her hands over the freshly made bed. Despite the odor of the sick that still clung to the air, she inhaled Isabé's favorite jasim based perfume. The tiny amethyst flowers in the predominantly white room, always reminded her of the jasim which grew wild in the country side around the village. The wild flower was difficult to harvest for making perfume, but she recalled the joy that day when Isabé got it right.

A gentle finger traced the bottle on the dressing table before abruptly turning around.

In her own bedroom, she collected the letter to her best friend, written weeks ago, stuffed it in an envelope with the keys. Her mobile had to stay. So did her books and sewing. She would miss those the most.

Besha took a deep breath and looked up at the ceiling to keep the tears from spilling. A breath-like caress infused warmth and love over her cheek. She didn't open her eyes because there was no one.

"Be safe, child," she could have sworn were spoken from her mother's lips.

"I will, Mama," she whispered and swung the pack to her shoulders.

Leaving a light on, she was after all a night owl, she left the house via the backdoor. It was the closest to Sonja's home and faced away from the street.

With slow and vigilant movements Besha stepped out to leave the only place she had ever known.

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