Post by Emma on Apr 4, 2008 19:13:58 GMT -5
"Are you Emma Christelle?" A young boy asked, spotting the fragile woman in the streets. She stared at the child for a second, then nodded. "Here you go!" He chirped, shoving a clean envelope into her hands before running off. Emma watched him leave with a confused expression on her face before looking at the address. There was none written.
With no chair to sit on or a home to go to, she opened it only to see a rough sketch of herself a year ago fall out of the envelope.
My Emma,
There is so much I must tell you and want to ask. Your father has seen you among the girls at the Opera House, but has kept it a secret from me til now. He drew me a picture of you. You have grown to be so beautiful, Emma. Your father was so proud, saying you and he have the same eye color. He passed away one year ago, he was quite ill.
How are you, sweetie? Do you remember how I used to call you my mockingbird, and how your father called you a princess? You were quite popular back then, though only for a short while. How quickly the world had rejected your talents. I know you were, and still are, upset.
Darling, we may have a misunderstanding. Father said you looked quite serious and unhappy, and thought we were dead. He said you had nobody to talk to. Was it our abandoning of you that led to your demeanor? We did not leave you for death, yet it was our fear you would die had we not given you up. Those were poor, desperate times.
I have remarried a month ago, Emma. I am now married to the president of a popular company among Europe, and he does wish to meet you. Next week we are planning to visit. Please do not push your own mother away.
Love,
Mom
Ripping a small part of the letter that wasn't written on, Emma wrote her response.
Mother~
I still love you, and look up to you. But please don't visit, or write to me again. There is nothing wrong with me, I am glad you and dad gave me up. Don't feel sorry for me. I am happy the way I am; by myself.
Emma
Miles and miles away, a beautiful woman opened up a dirty envelope to reveal Emma's messy handwriting. Her gentle hazel eyes filled with tears as a handsome man in a black suit comforted her.
With no chair to sit on or a home to go to, she opened it only to see a rough sketch of herself a year ago fall out of the envelope.
My Emma,
There is so much I must tell you and want to ask. Your father has seen you among the girls at the Opera House, but has kept it a secret from me til now. He drew me a picture of you. You have grown to be so beautiful, Emma. Your father was so proud, saying you and he have the same eye color. He passed away one year ago, he was quite ill.
How are you, sweetie? Do you remember how I used to call you my mockingbird, and how your father called you a princess? You were quite popular back then, though only for a short while. How quickly the world had rejected your talents. I know you were, and still are, upset.
Darling, we may have a misunderstanding. Father said you looked quite serious and unhappy, and thought we were dead. He said you had nobody to talk to. Was it our abandoning of you that led to your demeanor? We did not leave you for death, yet it was our fear you would die had we not given you up. Those were poor, desperate times.
I have remarried a month ago, Emma. I am now married to the president of a popular company among Europe, and he does wish to meet you. Next week we are planning to visit. Please do not push your own mother away.
Love,
Mom
Ripping a small part of the letter that wasn't written on, Emma wrote her response.
Mother~
I still love you, and look up to you. But please don't visit, or write to me again. There is nothing wrong with me, I am glad you and dad gave me up. Don't feel sorry for me. I am happy the way I am; by myself.
Emma
Miles and miles away, a beautiful woman opened up a dirty envelope to reveal Emma's messy handwriting. Her gentle hazel eyes filled with tears as a handsome man in a black suit comforted her.