Hi, I’m the writer of the blog thistlesroses. This is kind of off, since I have never written anything this long (well, except Siobhan the mirror reflection; that was in parts). Enjoy!
Margaret Macdonald strode down the street, looking very calm and uncaring of her surroundings. She wore a shabby winter coat with rips here and there, which could barely keep the cold out. Under the coat was a blue jumper. Part of her blue-and-white striped scarf had unravelled and the thread sort of flew, blown by the wind. She wore a flowing, long black skirt with a long tail, which she dragged while walking. The pair of lace-up brown boots with heels added a sense of strangeness to her whole look. She let her curly, long red hair cover her back. She looked natural without any makeup put on.
As she arrived at the doorstep, she knocked the door. Then, a young woman, probably in her twenties, showed up. Expecting an old lady, Margaret thought of asking the woman if she was Eileen Crawford, but soon realised that it would be crazy to stay out in the cold just to ask such thing.
“What brings you here?”
“You’re…seeking…help. All right, just get in.”
The woman invited Margaret to her home, and apparently she had known that Margaret had been living in a poor situation through her clothes. So that’s why she was seeking help, she thought.
“Just sit down, dear. I know that a long winter walk can be tiring, even painful, for someone like you.” Though a young one, the woman used the word “dear” to emphasise affection, and what was more amazing, she said it in a sincere way without being condescending.
“So, are you Miss Crawford?” Margaret asked, unsure.
“Yes, I am. But you can call me Eileen,” the woman answered. “And you?”
“Margaret Macdonald. But just call me Margaret.”
“So, Margaret, I know you’re seeking help, and I know just why,” Eileen said, “but I’m afraid I’ll have to ask you some questions about your personal life, like your family, education, and so on.”
“All right. After all, you have to let it all go eventually.”
“Good then, if you think so. Question one: describe your home.”
Then Margaret thought for a while. Would she tell? But then she felt it would be just fine. She described it like this.
“Well, it’s just one room. The wall already have cracks here and there, and the ceiling leaks. I have almost nothing, and so there’s almost nothing there. Just clothes, a bed and other odds and ends.”
“What do you mean ‘I’? Do you live alone?”
“Well, sort of. My father kicked me out of the house and I was forced to live out of there. I think my mother and sisters miss me as I miss them. We haven’t seen each other since long.”
“I see. So, you haven’t seen your family for some time. I know you are not able to pay for school, so where do you get your education? Perhaps some kind of youth community centre?”
“Exactly. Any more questions?”
“I don’t think so. But from this, I can gather bits of information about you. And I think, I can take the conclusion that you live in a poor condition. Am I jumping to conclusions here?”
“No, you don’t.”
“But if you ever need more help, just come here. And about the clothes, why are you wearing a torn coat?”
“I can’t afford a new one. There are too many things I have to pay for and in many cases, I’m broke.”
Eileen then went to get something and came back with a coat.
“This is for you. I have another one for me. I don’t want you to freeze yourself in the winter cold.”
“Thanks. It’s beautiful. What about my torn coat?”
“Just keep it.”
“It’s been nice being here with you. See you later.”
“See you later…too.”
Margaret then walked away to her home. She didn’t feel like going anywhere. All she wanted was to go back and lie down on her bed.
Margaret Macdonald, Eileen Crawford ©thistleandroses