"You scared or somthin'?"
Mary don't look at me- but I turn to 'er an' watch as another tear fall. She seem to be starin' at the moon through my window- watchin' it though it jus' a sliver. It can barely be seen as a moon- lookin' mo' an' mo' like a star, one of these days it'll jus' disappear. It usually come back- but maybe it won't this time. I always worried 'bout that- cause we can do nothin' to make it come back- we jus' gotta trust that the moon'll return. What if it don't?
Mary seem hypnotized by it, not movin' cept her eyes dashin' cross the sky. Perhaps she see mother up there, perhaps she talk to 'er too.
"Mary," I ask 'gain, "You scared?"
She shakes 'er head, "Not really."
There ain't never been a time when Mary come inta my room jus' to see me. We ain't close, bonded sisters, not really. She only come here when she gotta nightmare - or she scared an' can't go to daddy nor Miss. Lizabeth. I 'er third choice, but when I scared she ain't even on the list.
"You sure?"
"No," she whsipers, turnin' 'er body to me, "No I ain't."
"Well what wron'?" I grab 'er hand, an' squeeze- offerin' 'er protection from whatever haunts 'er mind. It nice to help someone else out fo' a change- an' not jus' think 'bout how crazy I am.
"I dunno, I jus' confused is all. 'Bout Mista Smith... an' Miss. Lizabeth."
"Miss. Lizabeth?"
She closes 'er eyes, willin' away anotha tear. She don't open them fo' a little while, takin' real big breaths an' stealin' 'er hand back.
"Yeah, but it nothin'," she finally says, lyin'. I don't push 'er though- she don't gotta tell me if she don't wanna. Maybe Miss. Lizabeth finally crackin' down on 'er- an' not lettin' her do whatever.
"Okay. Well what 'bout Mista Smith? You don't like 'em?"
"No," she says with no thought at all.
"Oh- me neither. He real gross."
"I think he like you," she taunts- the mood suddenly gettin' all ligh'.
"I do to. Did you see how lon' 'is lips stayed on my hand? It felt real disgustin'- It took everythin' I 'ad not to jump an' run away," I say. It would be the perfect time to brin' up wha' he said to me- but with Mary laughin' fo' the first time in a while- I can't brin' myself to say it.
Mary don't look at me- but I turn to 'er an' watch as another tear fall. She seem to be starin' at the moon through my window- watchin' it though it jus' a sliver. It can barely be seen as a moon- lookin' mo' an' mo' like a star, one of these days it'll jus' disappear. It usually come back- but maybe it won't this time. I always worried 'bout that- cause we can do nothin' to make it come back- we jus' gotta trust that the moon'll return. What if it don't?
Mary seem hypnotized by it, not movin' cept her eyes dashin' cross the sky. Perhaps she see mother up there, perhaps she talk to 'er too.
"Mary," I ask 'gain, "You scared?"
She shakes 'er head, "Not really."
There ain't never been a time when Mary come inta my room jus' to see me. We ain't close, bonded sisters, not really. She only come here when she gotta nightmare - or she scared an' can't go to daddy nor Miss. Lizabeth. I 'er third choice, but when I scared she ain't even on the list.
"You sure?"
"No," she whsipers, turnin' 'er body to me, "No I ain't."
"Well what wron'?" I grab 'er hand, an' squeeze- offerin' 'er protection from whatever haunts 'er mind. It nice to help someone else out fo' a change- an' not jus' think 'bout how crazy I am.
"I dunno, I jus' confused is all. 'Bout Mista Smith... an' Miss. Lizabeth."
"Miss. Lizabeth?"
She closes 'er eyes, willin' away anotha tear. She don't open them fo' a little while, takin' real big breaths an' stealin' 'er hand back.
"Yeah, but it nothin'," she finally says, lyin'. I don't push 'er though- she don't gotta tell me if she don't wanna. Maybe Miss. Lizabeth finally crackin' down on 'er- an' not lettin' her do whatever.
"Okay. Well what 'bout Mista Smith? You don't like 'em?"
"No," she says with no thought at all.
"Oh- me neither. He real gross."
"I think he like you," she taunts- the mood suddenly gettin' all ligh'.
"I do to. Did you see how lon' 'is lips stayed on my hand? It felt real disgustin'- It took everythin' I 'ad not to jump an' run away," I say. It would be the perfect time to brin' up wha' he said to me- but with Mary laughin' fo' the first time in a while- I can't brin' myself to say it.
