Count Cain Fan Fiction ❯ Sunday's Solomon Grandy ❯ Monday ( Chapter 1 )

Sunday’s Solomon Grandy By Kaji no Tenshi   Chapter One    Monday                  The room was dark, with only one window to let light through. Thin clothes were placed over the small window as curtains, preventing even more light from coming through. Beside the window was a wooden worktable. Many things cluttered the small surface including beads and fabrics of all sorts. In the dark corner of the room sat a figure. She was still in the darkness, her hands clutching something. After what seems like a long while, the figure moved. Slowly, she placed her chair nearer to the worktable and an object on the table. The light reflected off the blonde-coloured hair of the figure. It was a young lady. She looked pale and sickly. Her body was thin and her clothes were not of the best quality and condition. After placing the object on the table, she searched for something else on the same surface. Soon, she found a bottle. Twisting the cap opened, she shook out few pills and swallowed them dry. Her breathing which was heavy before became lighter and more relaxed. She took hold of the object once more. It was an unfinished doll. She took a wig from the table and gently placed it on the doll’s head. Then, she took some fabrics and a needle and began sewing clothes for the naked doll. She took her time for it was all she did all day. Each day was no different. She made her dolls in her own bedroom which was also her workroom. Her parents have died, leaving her all alone. Using the only skill she knew, she made dolls to earn money for her own living, but it was barely enough.               When she looked up again from her work, she had completed her doll of the day and the sun has nearly gone down completely. She got up hurriedly and threw on a cloak along with a hat and a veil overtop. Entering the kitchen of her little house, she checked the amount of food available for dinner. Frowning, she saw that she did not have much other than a few tomatoes and some herbs. She went back to her room and took her bottle of pills with her before heading out the backdoor towards her garden. She has to pick some vegetables before the sky becomes fully dark. As she bent down to check on the available amount of ripe fruits hanging off the plants, she heard a rustle in the forest behind her. Swiftly, she turned around, only to see a man tumble out of the forest. She gasped when she realized that he was covered in blood. Blood dripped down his face from the gash on his head and there were several gashes on his body as well. She ran to him as he collapsed on to the ground. He was unconscious, his hand clutched on to something. She noted that his clothes were made of a much better fabric than hers and that there was a cross-like cut on his hand, still dripping of blood. She bit her bottom lip as she wondered what to do. She was not strong enough to bring the man back to her house, but neither could she call of the village’s men to help her, for they would only consider her a woman with no honour, bring a stranger into her house.               Hastily, she gathered some vegetables from the garden, more than she would have eaten, but she would need them for the injured man. She frowned. She would have preferred some meat but she does not have the money to go to the butcher. Perhaps later, when she has sold some of her dolls, with any luck. She paced herself back to the kitchen and put down whatever she has picked. She could not do things too hurriedly all the time. Then she went back outside to the garden to tend to the man. She took the half-broken wheelbarrow from its resting place in the garden and rolled it near the man. It was her mother’s, used to bring vegetables outside of the house to sell before she died. Bending down, she dragged the man on to the wheelbarrow. It was hard for her as the man was heavy and she didn’t want to injure him anymore. First, she lifted his upper body on to the wheelbarrow, then his lower body, his feet dangling a few centimetres from the ground. Then she started to move the wheelbarrow. It made the trip easier, but still hard. The path was not smooth nor the man any lighter. She had to stop twice to calm her heart which was racing so hard it made it hard for her to breathe. Finally, she got to the door of her house. It was lucky for her that her house has only one floor. She took a pill from her bottle and ate before she continued her task. There was no way she could bring the wheelbarrow in the house so she had to drag the man across the floor. It was better than dragging him outside the house though. After yet another few rests, she managed to drag him on to the bed of her deceased parents.               Getting strips of white fabrics to act as bandage and a basin full of water, she began to tend the man’s wounds. First was the gash on his head. The blood has started to dry, so she delicately cleaned the wound and wrapped his head with the fabric. Then came the gashes on his body. She blushed furiously as she knew what was to happen. She would have to undress the man. Her hands trembled as she took the top of the man off his body and could only stare at his nakedness. Her blush rose and made her feel uncomfortable as she remembered what she was supposed to do. She quickly cleaned and wrapped his wounds. She reminded herself to pick some medicinal herbs to dress his wounds later on. She didn’t dare take of the man’s pants so she just rolled them up and treated whatever she saw. She believed there were no other wounds or she hoped so. Covering the man with a thin blanket, she left the room to cook herself, and the man if he awakes, dinner.                She made a thin vegetable broth, knowing she won’t be able to eat much after all that blood. She had a weak heart after all. Also, the man won’t be able to eat something that rich after being hurt either. So broth was good enough. She stirred the broth mindlessly as she thought about the man. He had stumbled across her garden, or rather the forest behind the garden, out of no where. His clothes have been an obvious proof that the man was from a totally different class from her. How he got hurt was a mystery to her. Perhaps it was an attack from his enemies or even bandits? What kind of man was he? She had been so concentrated at cleaning his wounds and not get distracted by nakedness that she didn’t really get a look at him. She blamed it on all the blood. She has always wondered how life was different for people so rich. She has watched rich people buy her dolls for their children, but she could see that the parents were clearly disgusted by her clothes and looks, but only tolerated her because their child had taken a liking to her dolls. It was even possible for them to throw out her doll once they got home, in promise of another better one for their child. In a way, she was upset at the possibility but at the same time, she was glad at least someone bought the doll and gave her money for her survival. At least her dolls were cherished by others other than herself before they were thrown away. With her mind wandering away, she nearly realized her burnt her broth. She immediately took the pot away from the fire and threw in some salt for taste. After the pot had cooled down a bit, she kept the broth warm after pouring some for herself. Bringing the bowl and a spoon with her, she decided she will eat beside the man, just in case he awakens.               Almost robotically, she spooned herself the broth, still wondering about the man. It has been a while since something has sparked her interest so. After finishing her broth, she took her first good look at the man. Even though his eyes were closed, she could tell the man was a handsome one. His dark brown hair fell on to the pillow, looking so silky and well-treated, unlike her own which was dry and ill-treated. His hair should reach just above his nape, a regular length for any man. His nose was tall and his lips made a firm line, even in his sleep. She realized his face was drenched in sweat, his cheeks covered with a faint blush of redness. She touched his forehead gingerly, only to find him burning up. She stood up, knocking down the chair she was sitting on, and rushed to get some medicinal herbs, for both his fever and for his wounds. If they are not treated properly, it would only make things even worse. She was thankful for her mother for planting herb plants in the garden when she still lived as well as teaching her about them. Now, she can use the herbs to save a life.               She worked all night, dressing his wounds and bringing his fever. She was twisting out extra water from a cloth when she heard a moan from the man. She hurried over to the bed. She noticed the flickering of his eyelids and the movement in his hands. She wiped the man’s sweat off his face, waiting for him to fully wake. She was still wiping sweat away when the man fully opened his eyes. His voice croaked when he opened his mouth to speak. Quickly, she grabbed the cup of water on the dresser of the room. She helped the man get up and slowly, the man drank the water, thankful for the liquid that soothed his dehydrated throat. She patted the man’s back when he choked, but immediately took back her hand when she realized he was still topless.               “You took care of me?” asked the man. His voice was still a bit hoarse, but better than before. He eyed blushing girl. She was no older than sixteen, but her pale face and petite size made her look a bit younger. By the looks of her, he could be sure that she was sick, very sick.               “Yes, sir,” she whispered.            &nb sp;  “Where is this place?”                “This is some remote village, sir. We do not have a name, but you are slightly far from the city, sir. You had tumbled out of the forest behind my garden...and I took you in, sir.” Her voice has gotten a bit louder, slowly gaining courage to speak to the man.             &nb sp; The man frowned. “Forest? Oh yes…there were some burglars, bandits I believe, they attacked me and…well, I suppose I ended up here then.”            & nbsp;  “Please, sir. You must get some rest first. Your fever has just gone away but you should rest to make sure it won’t come back. We shall talk about this tomorrow and figure out some way to get you home, sir. I do not mean to order you sir, but you should rest,” she said firmly.                “May I know your name first? I need to know the name of the one who’s taking care of me.”            &nb sp;  “My name is of no importance, sir.”            &n bsp;  “Just tell me,” ordered the man, annoyed.               “It’s Lucy, sir. My name is Lucy.”            & nbsp;  The man smiled a bit, satisfied at the answer. “Very well, Lucy. I shall talk to you in the morning then, I suppose.”           &nbs p;   Lucy nodded. “Yes, sir. I’ll be beside you until you wake up once more. If you need anything, I’ll get it for you, if I can provide it that is.”            &nb sp;  Nodding, the man gradually lied back down on the bed and promptly fell asleep. Lucy sat on the chair, glancing at the man now and then. Her mind was still filled with thoughts and questions about the man, but she was tired. Slowly, she drifted off to sleep.     /  /  / E N D  C H A P T E R  O N E \ \ \   Author’s Note: This chapter is short, as will the rest of chapters be. At first, the chapter title was only supposed to relate to the rhyme in the prologue. I was thinking it does not necessarily have to be Monday, but only in a sense, how things were related in time sense to the rhyme, but then I realized that Kaori Yuki actually mentioned Monday in her story, so the chapter titles are actually represent the day the chapter is revolved around. Am I making any sense? Just thought I’d point that out. Hopefully, you guys enjoyed this chapter and I want reviews! So press that little purple button on the left bottom corner of the window, okay? I don’t care if you got only one word to say or a whole essay full of criticism for me, just review!