Tomorrow is Thanksgiving. I thank God for my blessings, but Jeremy weighs heavily on my mind. After Derek dragged me home that fateful full moon in September, I snuck out to the cornfields again. I don’t know why, but I needed Jeremy’s shirt. A part of me hoped he’d be waiting for me. He wasn’t.
Every night since then, I’ve held Jeremy’s shirt and prayed for his safety. I don’t know if I pray for his body or his soul. I fear he died for me, but I hope he lives in spite of me. Between his fate and mine, I can’t shake the blue fog that chokes my spirit.
“Ellie, you okay? You’ve been scrubbing the same area for ten minutes now.”
“I’m fine, Mama.”
I feel like the girl in a story Mama told me as a child. Her sisters were jealous of her and made her scrub floors while they made fools of themselves to win the affections of the most handsome and powerful man in the compound. They vied to become his seventh and final bride, but he chose Cinderella. I don’t understand. I want to be first and last: the only one; not Derek’s fifth.
A loud knock on the door startles me. Mama too; she drops her spoon on the stove.
I wonder if the policeman is back. Early this morning, he asked Mama lots of questions, including my age and if I was married. Mama guided him away before I could tell him I was promised.
Mama opens the door.
“We need to talk.” Derek grabs Mama’s elbow.
I don’t move.
She pulls free. “We’re okay.”
“I got rid of him for now. If there’s no wedding, your secret’s out.”
Mama looks over her shoulder at me and I snap my gaze down to my scrub brush.
She steps on the porch and closes the door behind her, but I already heard enough. Mama’s in trouble. I need an idea that will save us both.
This is the seventh part of Ellie’s story and we’ve jumped ahead by about a month and a half. I appreciate everyone who has been following this story- thank you! If you didn’t catch the previous parts, check out the links below. Each one is less than 333 words, so it won’t take long to catch up!
BLUE (adjective): a : low in spirits : melancholy; b : marked by low spirits : depressing <a blue funk> <things looked blue>.
If you want to try your hand at the challenge, you can find the complete guidelines on the Trifecta site by clicking the tricycle picture.
P.S. It is purely coincidence that this word happens to fit in well with the storyline. However, I have made a note to check with the Trifecta editors to see if bribes are accepted. You know, for future reference 🙂
(Only kidding, of course!)