The sky was crying so hard and the ground was soaked with tears. A booted leg stepped in a puddle of water in front of a rusty gate which leads to once a magnificent manor but now nothing more than a half-ruined building. By the look of it; dead trees, overgrown hedges, flower beds that looked more like weed beds, ivy-covered walls, broken windows which were blackened with dust and half-fallen roof, no one would have thought anyone could live there. The only evidence of life was the smoke coming out from the half-broken chimney.
She looked at the piece of paper on her hand which read, "Number Eleven, High Street, Brighton, England," and at the gold address plate on the gate. Even though the plate was now a bit discolored, the markings on it could be seen. Yes, the address was right!
She pushed the gate slowly and the gate opened with a loud screech. Then she walked along the moss-covered stone path which leads to the front door and knocked on the door. No one answered, but she could hear someone's shouts from inside.
"Haven't I told you before?"
"What did you think? That I would appreciate you as a hero?"
"You'll understand what you have done when you suffer the same pain."
Before hearing anything else, she hurriedly knocked on the door again; this time as loudly as she could. The shouting stopped and footsteps started coming towards the door. A stern-looking thin woman with a pale face, a thin mouth that almost looked like a straight line, a pointy nose, and grey eyes, answered the door. She opened the door halfway and said, "What do you want?"
"Oh, good evening! I'm Emily Brown. Is Mrs. Dankworth here?"
"That's me. What do you want?"
"I phoned you yesterday..."
"I remember. Come inside," said Mrs. Dankworth putting on a fake smile and motioning Emily to come inside.
The inside was dark with flickering dim lights; shadows cast scary images on the floor and walls, and the smell of dust was prominent. Mrs. Dankworth shut the door behind them and motioned Emily to follow her. They went past the living room, round a corner, along a corridor, and finally into a room that looked like an office room. When they were passing the living room, Emily saw a boy of about eleven years old standing in a corner, who might have been the person Mrs. Dankworth was shouting at. There was something wrong with his expression. Was it scare? She wasn't certain.
Mrs. Dankworth walked towards a table and sat on the chair on one side of it and said, "Take a seat," pointing towards a chair on the other side.
Emily sat down and Mrs. Dankworth entered into the conversation.
"Do you possess any proof?"
"Yes," Emily nodded and produced a letter. "I knew Viviana's father, George, from college and we were really good friends. Soon after college, I fled to America, and later I heard that George married a woman named Melina Loughty and that they simply vanished soon after the marriage. I tried contacting them, but it turned out to be just a waste of time, so I gave up. After twelve years which is two weeks ago, a man who called himself a ministry worker appeared at my door with the news of George's and Melina's death and gave me this letter. He told me they sent Viviana to Bluebird Home in London. So I came back to England. When I went to the Bluebird Home, they told me they transferred Viviana here because of some unusual behavior."
"Why did George want you as Viviana's godmother?"
Emily looked away from Mrs. Dankworth for a while and said in a low voice, "I don't know."
"Okay then, you can take away Viviana."
"I need to talk to her first"
"I want to know whether she likes to come with me or not."
"We don't care about their opinion here."
"But I do."
"Fine. Come with me.”
Mrs. Dankworth leads Emily out of the office room, further along the corridor, up the stairs, and stopped in front of the first door they encountered. Then she knocked on the door three times and said, "There's a visitor for you."
Before leaving, she turned back to Emily and said, "One more thing, keep in mind that children here are not normal!"
After Mrs. Dankworth left, Emily slowly turned the knob and opened the door. A girl with messy jet-black hair was sitting on the bed facing away from her looking through the window.
"May I come in?"
The girl turned, smiled, and nodded. So Emily went inside and sat down on a chair facing the girl who had black eyes and a very pleasant smile. They stared at each other for a long time. Viviana reminded Emily a lot of History. It was Viviana who broke the silence.
"Oh, the locket."
Emily removed the locket from her neck and handed it over to Viviana.
"This suits you better."
Viviana opened the locket.
"I knew your father."
"This is more than just a locket for you. Isn't it?" said Viviana handing over the locket back to Emily.
Emily could feel tears gathering in her eyes, so she looked away trying her best not to let the tears run down and after some time, she could find her voice back.
"You look a lot like your father."
"But, Mrs. Dankworth says I'm my mother."
"Do you like to come with me? I know I won't be able to be your family, but I can try. I'm not forcing you. You can decide. Take your time. I'm not in a hurry either."
"When are we going?"
"Today? But only if you like..."
"Just give me ten minutes. I don't have many things to pack."
After about half an hour Emily and Viviana were outside the gate with a small bag that contained all of Viviana's belongings. Now the rain had stopped, but the ground was still wet. Emily looked at the small girl and took her small hand.
She could feel the tear, she tried to contain so hard roll down her cheek and fall to the ground and she knew, a tiny drop of tear was nothing to the ground that withstand a huge rain!