Ailment of the Heart.
Mildred woke up in a daze. A slight headache that brewed at thought.
Fatigued from the midnight tussle through frightening dreams, terrified from the effects that her nightmare had brought.
Petrified with regret, of the brutal onslaught.
Left to cry in her bed, ashamed of her morals; for this was not what she’d been taught.
As sweat cascades her face, she slowly emerges from the panic.
Now able to reason with her sanity, the paranormal slumber seems less frantic.
She glances out the window with sights of hope at eye.
Perhaps to spot an image of heavenly scriptures, to denote a sign from the sky.
Though not a bird in miles, not a chant nor melody.
Not a ray of sun to shine it’s light. Just the absence of joy and prosperity.
For all her life, she had been encased with resentment. For her parents had passed, and all other family was nonexistent.
She felt absent and often empty; destined to live in turmoil.
Abandoned to mourn in sorrow alone, so to cope; she engaged in education.
A study that kept her busy. Motivated and steadily occupied.
She excelled in all that which is literature.
For through these words in books; are where her feelings could hide.
Sheltered by a title. Caressed by a complex plot, embedded within the moral.
Was a lesson, by her; that she’d been taught.
For the exact reason she hid, the purpose of the evasion of others.
Trapped inside; was that of a kid.
A helpless child, who lost her mother.
Her father, her family; this made her frail.
Distant from Love’s oversight of encouragement; The motivation of love, to her. Had failed.
Mildred sighs, as she now comes to realize.
That for all that she had burrowed inside, was the hardships of pain; that she would have kept till she died.
But “that’s not who I am”, Mildred said as she stood.
“I am a person who’s persevered. One who has, have, and should.
I have earned the right to smile, to be happy, even though alone.
An accomplished scholar and the heir to my family’s throne.”
She turns towards a photo, an image of that once when.
She kept it beneath her bedroom lamp, for years; since she was ten.
And for the first time in years. She laid eyes upon her parents.
Her mother: so calm and sweet with grace in her eyes, with skin so radiant as the sun kissed her cheeks.
Her father: Stern, though gentle to care. She remembered he used to sing her a song, when her nightmares made her weep; in despair.
A tear trickled down so slow upon her face, then for that brief a moment; Mildred finally accepted fate.
As she laid upon her bed with her family snug in arms, she embraced the delicacy that is love. And in an instance as the wind blew away her tear; she had finally felt loved.
Farewell, Mildred. Goodbye my dear…
- Henry A. Johnson
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