The Necronomicon

Chapter Forty Six

Their embrace was tight and warm. It had been too long.

Audrey watched Eleanor's face — the pure luminosity of it, how her smile truly reached her eyes. She had brought Meredith to her. She had made her happy again. "Alive." Eleanor breathed, and the word practically shone. Meredith hugged her tighter, encircling her arms around Eleanor's body with force.

"I'm here." Meredith said, and Eleanor gripped her tighter, pulling her closer.

"I know. And I'm glad." Eleanor gazed into Meredith's young, glowing eyes. "Don't ever leave me again. I was wrong to have —"

"Eleanor. It's okay, really — it is. We just won't split up now. Ever." Meredith said. "But, Eleanor, I didn't just come here for your guidance, though I greatly need it. I want — need — to ask you some questions, find out some truths."

Alfred leaned in closer to the pair. "Meredith, she's still getting accustomed to you here, breathing..."

"She's still — to quote the phrase Alfred used — getting accustomed to you being supposedly dead."

Meredith looked at her stepmother with stars burning brightly in her eyes. "Sorry, Eleanor — this must be terribly overwhelming."

"What is it, Meredith?" Eleanor took her hands and squeezed them. "I'll tell you everything you want to know."

"Eleanor," Meredith began. "I need to know about the revolution. How did it all start — and don't leave out any details."

Eleanor took a deep breath, rocking backwards and forwards on her heels. "It all began when I was a young girl. And when I say young, I don't mean teenage years — I mean when I was around six years old. I had not lived in this place for long — I did not know much at all. It was at this age that I saw the old woman fall down."

For many, it would not have been a big deal — but for me... one might call it an awakening. It really did change my life forever. We — by we I mean my family and I — were out, and we were going shopping for dinner, so we went to the marketplace. For the first part of the trip, we strolled around buying different produce, mainly fruit. We bought such a variety — apples and oranges and mangoes and pineapples. It was once we'd gathered them, and were carrying them that my father said we needed to get lamb shanks. He kept repeating it — "We need to get the lamb shanks! We need to get the lamb shanks!" I don't remember why we required them. Maybe he wanted to make some type of stew, I don't know.

For the next half of the day we went to look for the meat. My parents were looking in one of the stores — I went on alone, singing to myself. I often went off by myself while we were shopping; my parents were always talking about something adult, something I couldn't participate in. Thus I amused myself, usually playing games or imagining things in my head. As I walked on, I noticed that there was an Elder up ahead, bartering with a shopkeeper. Beside him, an older woman was waiting patiently to begin bargaining as well. The seller denied The Elder something, and he spat at the retailer. The woman beside him took a step to the side to give way to The Elder as he walked past. As The Elder walked past, he shoved the woman to the floor.

Nobody went to help her — I stood there, completely shocked. Her legs had buckled, and there was dirt smudged into her wrinkles. She struggled to stand, her frail arms crumbling underneath her own weight. It was then that I moved forward, to help her — and when she was standing, her old, crinkled eyes met mine and she said, heartfelt, "Thank you for helping me, child."

I watched her hobble away, grey studding her legs. It made me wonder something: Why did The Elder push her over — when it wasn't even her fault? This was the first incident that made me question society. Why did The Elder think it was okay to push her over? And above all, why did nobody do anything about it?