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Sad Fiction

The old woman sighed sorrowfully and then pretended a smile which was broken in the creases that had formed on her old, frail face. Her wide blue eyes with a touch of mascara stared at the sky, the sun was beaming, its rays attacking any viewer however, Mrs. Gray didn't flinch. She stared hard at grey clouds, the sparrows flying by and the vast ocean of blue stretching above her head.

She let our another sigh and brought her lips to sip the coffee, she was warming her palms with. As soon as she took a sip, the hot liquid poured itself down her throat and she could feel the uncomfortable tinkling sensation.

From time to time, she would stare at the woods, beyond her garden and hope to be disturbed not by the press or the journalists but by the common folk who knew nothing of her.

She tentatively took another sip of the boiling coffee and kept it by her armchair. The woman opened her bun of silver and scruffy hair and began soothing her scalp and combing the bundle of strings with her bony fingers.

At last she shut her eyes and focused on a distant voice, she could hear. A blurred image appeared before her, it was a toddler cooing in a tiny yard, his terrified yet sweet screams filled Mrs. Gray's head and soon all the noises around her vanished leaving only the cooing. The woman sensed another very gentle voice of a mother though she couldn't see her, "Being a good boy...who's my baby...Callum, mom is....". Mrs. Gray jolted awoke, Callum, was the name Callum ?

She peered all around her, there was not a house in the distance, had she been dreaming it all. Horrified by the name she had heard, she calmed herself, not closing her eyes again instead frantically searching the surroundings.

With a deep cold uneasy feeling, she lifted herself from the vibrant yellow armchair and rushed inside. Upon reaching the kitchen, she heard herself being called. Perplexed, Mrs. Gray steadied herself and took a moment to realise it was the maid. Cautiously, she tip-toed down towards to door and spied if there were any journalists.

Only after that, did she open the door to see Maria, her new maid. Without a word, the young girl stepped inside and beamed at the old woman.

Mrs. Gray grinned, "Aren't you early today ?".

Maria nodded, "I have a few questions Mrs. Gray or should I say renowned author, Gray Marsh.".

Mrs. Gray frowned, " You have travelled so far no use sending you home again.".

Maria didn't seem to mind. Although, it had only been two days since she had started working, she was stubborn as a mull and had no hesitation or shame about it.

"I'll get you some tea Mrs. Gray .", she offered.

Mrs. Gray immediately shook her head, "I am alright with me coffee. Meet me in the garden if you need anything.".

Maria stayed in the kitchen braiding her long blonde hair giving the woman her time to settle down. After a few minutes, she flocked towards the garden and plopped down beside Mrs. Gray who clapped her hands.

"What do you want with me, Maria ?", she demanded.

Maria promptly replied, "Anwers".

Mrs. Gray inquired, "Answers to what?".

Maria shot up, "Answers to my questions. Now that we have been acquainted, I would like to learn about you as an author, madam.".

Mrs. Gray grunted, "I am no longer writing.".

Maria argued, "But you did once.".

Right before Mrs. Gray could even acknowledge her response, Maria continued, "You were a very celebrated author for writing fairy tale retellings. I grew up reading those. All of them, they were so realistic yet magical. Oh, Mrs. Gray how were you so imaginative?".

Mrs. Gray though to herself for what seemed like hours but Maria remained patient. She then, after 7 sips of her coffee, responded, "You know what Maria, hundreds of reporters have taken my interviews with same question repeated again and again. And I have been lying to them again and again... Now, I must say the truth. Can you keep a secret?".

Maria's eyes grew wider and she crept closer, nodding, "If not me then who can you trust.".

Mrs. Gray cleared her throat, "The retellings were all about my life. I have never imagined them, they are all true except of course the fiction part.".

Maria simultaneously asked, "What do you mean?".

Mrs. Gray ignored the question, "I don't think I can simplify it any further. Think for yourself.".

Maria paused for a moment, playing with her pink frock she stared at the frail lady. "You mean, you married a prince, your son nearly died, you found your mother at a carnival?".

Mrs. Gray chuckled, "Quite the opposite, my dear.".

Maria answered again, "So, you never married a prince, your son died and your mother never came back....". Her interest died down and now she was staring at her hands in her lap.

Mrs. Gray inquired, "Why did you stop ? Come on, we can count all 19 of my tragic losses. How many have we left ?", and with that the mask she had been wearing for decades shattered into pieces and she struggled to hide her tears.

Maria, got to her feet and excused herself, "I'll get you some water, Ma'am.".

The tears had multiplied to an extent to which Mrs. Gray's make-up was all flooded, she wheezed as she choked back the hard feelings, and put on the mask again. However, it wouldn't come one no matter, how hard she tried.

Maria returned and handed her a glass of water, she help the glass for support and took back her seat. For a moment, there was an awkward silence, both of them were lost in their own thoughts.

Gradually, Maria brought herself to speak, "I am truly sorry for our loss, madam.".

(The reader must be wondering why the two had grown so emotional however, if they had known the fairy tales, they would be similarly agonised.)

Mrs. Gray muttered, "It is alright. I am sorry.. sorry.", she took a deep breath.

Maria smiled weakly, "I should go and get the meat for supper.".

Mrs. Gray immediately interrupted, "Maria, you never cook supper.".

Maria hesitated, "Oh! Let me fetch you some water.".

"You already did.", was the sharp response.

Maria blushed red and rummaged through her ideas to find a suitable excuse.

Mrs. Gray managed a smile, "You silly girl. First, you bring up the matter and then you abandon me with the overwhelming thoughts. Sit, let me finish.".

Maria obeyed, glad that Mrs. Gray had smiled.

"When I was young girl, my mother ran away from my abusive father and she never once came back...My husband was a devil, he was involved in all sorts of illegal activities. Never did I spend a ...day... in peace with him. My son...well...you know the rest...".

Maria nodded empathetically.

"I was alone, with no home, no family, no identity of own, my wound had been bleeding for years when I turned to writing. To be honest..you know...I never dreamt or wished to gain fame.. or even publish my work. All I ever wanted was to put a happy ending to all those tragic happenings.".

Maria sighed, "That is beautiful and very moving Mrs. Gray.".

Mrs. Gray shook her head, "much more painful.".

Maria gently put through, "Why are you crying then?".

Mrs. Gray found this to be impertinent and simply stared at her for this rude gesture.

Maria corrected herself, "I mean, you put a happy ending to all your tragedies, then how come?".

A guilty feeling overcame Mrs. Gray who realised the inner truth. She shut her lips tight.

Maria elaborated, "I think you forgot to put the happy endings in your mind and you heart. If you had, you wouldn't be crying. Mrs. Gray. I think you dream everyday about your son, about your mother and about your husband, and...they never go away do they? Have you ever wondered why?."

April 09, 2021 07:42

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