Mara lifted her head from her books at the creak. She acutely listened to the sound of tiny feet plopping down the hall. They seemed to pause at her door a moment as if hesitant.
She's testing to see if I'm genuinely asleep, Mara mused and curled her lip up. She straightened her back in the chair, still listening. She heard the footsteps begin again after a moment.
Mara heard them move off somewhere down the hall. It wasn't long after she heard the distinct sound of the kitchen door open. Its' door gave a groan as it turned out. It closed.
Mara snorted.
And where does she think she's going this early? Mara thought, amused. She pushed herself off her desk. Long legs carried her over to the window. She quit there and crossed her arms over her chest. Just in time to see the small figure of a child cross the lawn.
She looks like a hobgoblin in that dress, Mara noted, looking on. She then laughed. Her joke amused her. As she chuckled, she watched Sy disappear out of view.
Mara turned back to the room. Her laughter was dying out. She felt her eyes draw to the fire. It had burned down to the only glowing embers. She had, again, forgotten to break away from her books to feed it.
"It's about time I bought her a new dress," Mara spoke distantly. It seemed such a short time ago that she had purchased the last one. And now it was in patches and threadbare.
Little girls grow up so quickly, Mara mused, slightly taken aback. She slowly pulled her eyes from the fireplace. Then, reluctantly, she moved to lift her hands. She had the urge to look away. It was hard to see what was happening to her. But she knew she had to.
It was essential to stay on top of her condition, less an incident be born from neglect.
Mara felt not surprised by what she saw. Age spots now dotted her skin. And was it her, or was the very skin on her hands thinning? The skin was no longer plump and pink but sunken down between her bones and pale. They only splashed with the color of her veins mounting upward against the shriveled tissue.
Mara closed her hands into loose fists. They dropped down to her sides. Some part of her felt a whimper come up like a soft cry at its injustice. But Mara refused to be bothered by her admittance.
She had come to terms long ago with what it meant to do this. This was the cost. Mara could not fake being a victim of it. This was her choice, after all.
Another year, Mara thought with resignation. She began to count out the years ahead of her. How much time was left? And what all could still be done during it.
Mara looked back to peer out across the lawn. Sy was long gone. But she couldn't help the urge to still look out for her. Mara crossed her arms. She shook her head dismissively. Then she laughed at herself.
Look at me, worrying like a mother hen. But where did Sy learn to be so independent all of a sudden? It doesn't feel like yesterday that she had her pink little fingers curled around mine. Looking up at me with those big trusting eyes-
Mara stopped her reminiscing as a more rational idea came up. At it, she felt her mood sour. Her full lips frowned. Mara moved a hand to her hip expectantly.
She better not be rummaging in that junkyard again. Or else I'll flog her for it. Mara thought gruffly. She had warned the girl before on multiple occasions.
Why does she not listen to me? Mara felt vexed. She could not understand the child's stubbornness.
She turned away from the window. Her spidery legs carried her past the desk and chair. She headed directly for the door out. Mara thought it best to get a head start on the day's memorable festivities.