Journalistic chapt. 38

Chapter Thirty-Eight:

The smell was what had gotten to her. The choking, toxic scent from the mines made her cough and feel like death had gripped her throat. Millions of times she'd tried to reassure herself that'd her body would grow accustom to the harsh air, but millions of times she'd only proved herself wrong. The days were hot, the only retreat coming from the large lake that had seated itself next to the town. Every time she walked into the streets, she felt the overcrowding as people walked elbow-to-elbow in an attempt to maneuver through the streets and get to their place of work, or their homes.

Every day she hated it. It wore on her nerves until there was almost nothing left.

Just like y'r m'thr, ol' crazy Ann!

She shook her head in an attempt to release the thought. The sun had just set over the horizon, and she heard Sam walking about the home, his familiar footsteps providing the only comfort to her uneasy heart. He'd been talking for weeks about a sort of rescue misson for Vera, taking her back to this city.

"Boy, she'll be in for a shock." The young woman explained to only herself, a palm pressed against her cheek.

"Rose?" A voice called, and the knock on the door made Rosie sit up straight.

"I'm here." It pained her to hear the exhaustion that had laced her own voice as she stood from the chair and brushed off her skirt, smoothing the wrinkles. "Come in."

Sam entered with his normal grin and dapper spirit; shirt tucked in, vest smooth, and not a hair out of place, usual Sam before work. "Mom said you didn't get any breakfast." He explained, "It's still set out there for you-"

"Is it true?" Rose asked, "Sam, are you completely serious."

He looked confused, "Yes, there really is breakfast for y-"

"No, you moron, about leaving." Rosie interjected, rolling her eyes and crossing her arms across her chest.

"Completely serious." Sam explained, a proud grin across his countenance at the thought.

"I'm coming."

"I never said you couldn't."

Rose nodded, her fingers trembling with anticipation, "I'll be down for breakfast in a few moments." She said.

He looked at her quizzically for a moment, observing her shaking and casting it aside, "I'll be at work, I'm leaving now."

"Goodbye." Rose said, her voice just a wisp of air as Sam turned from the doorframe and left. She stood and closed the door with a smile before looking out the window from the chair she'd deemed as her own.

It was true, they were leaving. She'd see him again. Trembling hands reached under the collar of her dress and pulled out a locket of cheap, tarnished metal. The hinge opened with resistance, not willing to go without a fight. Inside, the young girl looked beaming as she was held by a solemn couple. The other side of the locket was Doctor Mason himself, looking dignified as ever. It was the only reminder, the only material proof she had that she still belonged somewhere, to a family, to somebody. The only argument that she wasn't born to this world a drifter, only made one.

Her fingers caressed the photographs. A newspaper article came to mind. A girl walking on the streets of a town made lonely for her by the face of death. An overheard conversation that sent her into fits.

FATHER AND MOTHER DEAD, LEAVE GIRL ORPHAN

"Poor girl"

"Heard her mother hide them in the house, uncle had to find them before she made the girl sick too."

"Ann Mason? What a deranged woman, let's hope for the doctor's sake that it doesn't run in the family."

"STOP IT!"

The locket closed with a snap and she held it in her fist until the knuckles turned white. She shoved it back in her dress, hiding the chain, before hurrying downstairs to get the breakfast she had missed.

Yes, she'd go, she'd go and rescue Vera. There was nothing she had left to lose.