The two grievous days that followed seemed like an eternity. Stepping outside of the manor for the last time, there was an empty void that swept over me and lingered eerily. We all packed what little belongings we were able to — excluding my own — and loaded a small hay cart. With Mother unable to walk long distances, we placed her comfortably within the nest of hay in the back of the cart.
Violet, unable to bear looking at her, finally broke the uneasy silence after regarding Father with a distressful gaze. “Father,” she requested sharply, “I would like for Jasmine to keep watch over Mother while we travel. It is not often they spend time together these days, after all.”
He raised a thin brow at her request then finally nodded; however, it was obvious in his eyes that I was the least of his worries. After waving us off dismissively to get situated in the cart, he went to the barn to gather the two remaining horses we owned.
Before the drought, we kept six horses, along with three cows, eight goats, seven chickens and three pigs. We were regrettably forced to either sell the other animals for food money, or slaughter them for our own food; however, Father was adamant about keeping at least two horses in case of an emergency.
I frowned at Violet for her sudden outburst once we were alone and said flatly, “That was unnecessary.”
She licked her lips in thought then met my glaring eyes. “Was it?” she contested. “I think you are deliberately distancing yourself from her and I don't like it. She is our mother and she needs us more than ever.”
“I am not ‘distancing myself’ from her,” I protested with narrowed eyes. “While I hold no objections to wanting to spend the last days with her, I do not want my memories of Mother to be tinged with the despair and suffering that currently afflicts her.”
Violet silently regarded my words in disbelief. Without further argument, she shrugged and reluctantly climbed in the back of the cart to sit at Mother's side.
Death was an uncomfortable feeling that Violet tried to embrace, unlike myself. I knew it would not be long before Mother would submit to the Eternal Sleep; it was eminent in her eyes, her body and all our failed efforts. Those few pleasant memories of seeing Mother's healthy, smiling face all those months ago were now replaced with a corpse-like image of the woman I used to love and adore.
We set out early in the morning before the sun had a chance to rise above the distant birch forests along the rolling hills of the countryside. I looked back at the stone-inlaid structure of the manor with sad eyes, not knowing if I would ever return here again. Part of me wanted to stay in this familiar place I had considered a sanctuary all my life; yet, another part of me felt adventurous and curious of what the rest of the world had to offer.
Violet sat beside me, gazing blankly at the manor. “This is a mistake …” I heard her mutter under her breath.
Not bothering to respond to her quiet musings, I averted my attention to Father, who worked silently to secure the two horses to the front of the cart.
The animals were thin and greatly malnourished, with their lower ribs visible beneath their tanned bellies. With much of their strength already depleted, they staggered about weakly. I had my doubts about them getting us very far and I shared the same pain I saw in Father's eyes as he watched his beloved animals suffer almost as much as Mother.
When he finished, he made one final check of the cart before grabbing the reins and standing alongside the animals. “All right, let's be off.” His voice was choked with pain.
Violet watched as Father handled the horses and walked beside them, guiding the weakened animals down the dirt path.
Resting atop the tarps which covered our packed items, I stared blankly towards Mother in silence.
Periwinkle remained curled in my lap, purring contentedly despite the air being tense and heavy with despair. His warmth was inviting — a pleasant change from death's whispers.
I soon found myself afraid to look away from Mother's comatose form. Through my peripheral vision, I knew the world around me was changing once we set off but I hesitated in looking up at the new scenery. The familiar scents of the farms left the air and a cool, refreshing scent of the birch forests filled my lungs.
Once we were farther along in our journey, the clear skies were soon replaced by the tops of the tall birches and my eyes finally lifted. We had entered those forests I had always only seen from the manor.
The eerie, white birches, seemingly devoid of life, were resilient from the passing winds that whistled through their frail branches. As we traveled deeper into this dreary, uninviting place, it seemed as though the warm colors of autumn were practically non-existent. The air grew colder once the grey clouds began dotting the skies and the quiet sounds of the country were replaced with the echoing howls of predators from above and beyond.
I looked down the path left behind us and could no longer see the entrance to the forest. The dirt path had stretched beyond what my own eyes could see, disappearing into a tree-lined portal of blackness. Looking forward, I saw more of the same, which caused me to momentarily lose my immediate sense of direction. Noting the many footprints of previous travelers that were easily visible in the patches of dirt, however, indicated that this was, indeed, a well-traveled road. Patches of the grey skies above could be seen despite the mass of treetops that filtered out most of the morning sunlight, leaving the area in a blanket of shadows.
The horses trudged along the road, their combined efforts enabling them to pull the heavy cart with little effort thus far, though the road itself we traveled upon was far from smooth.
Violet managed to sprawl out comfortably against the back of the cart and fall asleep from the bumpy ride.
I gazed at her enviously as she appeared in such a peaceful state whilst she slept. With dire thoughts and feelings swarming through my mind, sleep was the last thing I wanted. Even as I turned back towards Mother and gazed upon her grievously, my attempts to get the slightest bit of sleep were futile. I missed my home and my old life.
I had lost track of the time. Before I knew it, we finally exited the forest and were on a more open road of hilly, rocky terrain. Off to the east through the mesh of trees that lined the road, the view of a large lake could be seen. Sparkles of sunlight reflected off the water in a serene gesture. The skies were slowly waning from the dismal, grey afternoon, to the vibrant, autumn hues of dusk. Most of the trees around here still had their leaves, all mottled with autumn's signature colors. The inviting atmosphere here was reminiscent of the country. The air was not as crisp, nor was it tinged with death as I recalled so vividly upon leaving the manor.
My eyes continued drifting off at the new change in scenery again and I felt my mind wander into a meditative state. It was only when I felt the cart's abrupt stop that I regained my composure. I heard Father's distressing voice — which consisted of a long string of curses — and Violet's calm voice trying to make the best out of the situation. I averted my attention towards the front of the cart and watched as Father examined one of the collapsed horses. The other was on the verge of following suit as it whinnied weakly in distress. As I gradually stood up from the cart to further assess the situation, Violet turned her head towards me and shook it gently.
“There is nothing you can do right now, Sister,” she reassured. “Please, sit down and let Father handle it.”
I opened my mouth to speak in protest, but, instead, promptly closed it and sat back down. My attention returned to Mother, who appeared to be in the same, comatose condition as she had remained in since we left home. Truthfully, she could have been dead by now and I wouldn't have known. While I embraced death's spirit, I was not ready to look upon its face so soon. If she was dead, I wanted to make myself believe that she wasn't. Taking her cold, skeletal hand, I rubbed it gently.
“There is so much death …” I whispered absently, my eyes staring through Mother's frail, comatose form.
Violet appeared disturbed by my words and hastily looked away. Perhaps she was attempting to find peace within herself again.
Father unhitched one of the horses from the cart and for several minutes, heaved and pushed the animal's large, twitching corpse off the road as best he could. Sweat beaded over his forehead and devastation was eminent in his eyes as he worked tirelessly; however, he didn't allow the feeling to linger for too long. Once he had finished tending to the animals, he took his place beside the last-standing horse.
“One of the horses has died from exhaustion,” he informed us in a shaky voice, his head lowered. “The corpse will be food for the scavengers now, I suppose. It will not be long before we will all be forced to walk on our own.”
Violet's eyes wavered at his statement. “But, what about Mother?!” she exclaimed. “She cannot walk! What are we going to do?!”
After a brief pause, he looked back to my sister reassuringly. “We go as far as we can, then carry her, if need be,” he replied. “She will survive one way or another — I will see to that.” Afterwards, he returned his attention to the road and resumed the journey by attempting to guide the remaining horse along as carefully as he could.
Leaning back, I stared up at the dimming skies, watching the wisps of clouds roll by and listening to the quiet sounds of nature all around me. We had barely traveled ten miles through the course of the day and I already wondered what the night would soon bring. The world beyond the manor was frightening and tinged with death, and yet, it was masked with a certain, unmistakable beauty, which kept me intrigued.